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#simon Riley imagine
chaosandmarigolds · 3 days
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“You don’t like it.”
You give your husband an exasperated laugh as you stammer for your words, standing in the garage as you look at the motorcycle sitting where the car would normally be. You motion to it with a few stammers and back to him, “I-just-it-kin-eh-I-I-I think it’s um… great.”
Simon narrows his eyes to you, “Lair.”
“No! It’s hot! If I was twenty one I’d be all over you,” you nodded, and then walk down the stairs, “But we’re not, and we have three kids and I drive a minivan for god sake- I jus think you’re going through a midlife crisis.”
“Nuh huh.”
“You did not just ‘Nuh-huh’ me.”
Simon scratches his head as he looks at the bike, then to you, you had a point. “ight.”
You look over the bike and bite back a smile, “I would be open to…one ride though.”
(Me write quality romance and flirting psssh wrong page pookie. That’s all <3)
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joonieskinks · 6 hours
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I’m just imagining Simon who happens to stumble upon your roommate ad. And of course he thinks he’d be a perfect candidate. He’s clean, minimal and of course, gone most of the time. He’d still pay, he’s good mannered, quiet- he would absolutely be good for this pretty girl whose profile picture on his phone he can’t stop looking at.
He just wants you to be comfortable with someone like him, with someone who looks like him- but when he meets you, all those fears go out the window. You’re kind, so warm and open to him. You’re receptive and he’s so unnerved by it. You’re not what he was expecting at all, but he’s so in love with you right from the get go.
It makes leaving for missions so much harder. Especially on nights like tonight when you’ve made dinner for two, you’re looking absolutely gorgeous in your pajamas, you’re smiling sweetly at him. Bloody hell, the things he would do to you if had the chance-
It doesn’t really click with him until this moment that he actually can do something about it. In his head, he’s conjured you up to be so out of reach and untouchable. But that’s not true at all, it’s just a fear that he’ll overstep. However at this point, the night before he goes, it feels now or never. He supposes he can always move out if it doesn’t work, he’s just got to know.
“Simon? You okay?” You ask gently, taking your apron off and hanging it back up on the pantry door.
He gets up from the table and heads straight for you. You stand there in shock as he removes his mask, he takes your hips into his grasp and pins you against the door.
His forehead meets yours and he closes his eyes, inhaling your scent and enjoying this moment being so close to you. Your hands automatically latch onto this shirt, toying with the fabric, eyes moving to admire his face, his lips.
“…want you.” Simon murmurs out, his mind is reeling and he wants needs to feel you on him, to have you at least for tonight. At least to try. He just needs you to reciprocate, show him some kind of sign you want this too.
“Please”. You beg and just like that he springs into action. His lips latching onto yours, he’s shoving his leg between your own and you’re writhing against him and the door. Your hands in his blonde hair, exploring his chest, you go until you run out of air. He’s digging his thumbs into your hips, cherishing this moment and heavens above - you feel so good on his body, better than he could have fathomed.
Simon ends up making quick work, bringing you to your bedroom where he lays you down, his body on top of yours. Grinding into you, his mouth never leaving yours, your neck, your breasts. He then moves to take off your clothes, making his way down your body. Gently removing your panties and kissing your inner thighs, the scruff of his slight beard making your skin tingle.
He laps at your folds, his tongue circling your bud, his fingers deep within you. You cum around him and he’s in awe at the sight, your back arching in pleasure. You glance down at him and he’s smirking, it makes him feel good to know you’re all his.
“You’ve got me all night, love. There will be plenty more of this when I get back.”
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vhsgoghs · 6 hours
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mask (Simon Riley one shot)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader
Summary: you see him without a mask for first time note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes. ★ masterlist here
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She remembered that it was a Friday due to fatigue. She had worked late and had helped Price with some things that didn't specifically concern her, but she wasn't planning leaving him alone.
When returned to her room, she was exhausted; her eyes narrowed as she tried to walk without bumping into anything. For some unknown reason, her body was hurting more than usual lately, she had been trying to sleep at her usual time and not disturb her sleeping schedule, but nothing seemed to work.
The hallways were dark, but she could always see in the dark the small stickers she had put on her door to differentiate it from the others. It sounded stupid for an adult and a soldier, but she liked it and, after high school, she hadn't let any comments get to her too much. Plus, it had worked to avoid getting the wrong room in her first days there.
However, that night her mind didn't seem to work and the stickers on her door were not completely visible, so she ended up entering the wrong room.
She frowned when noticed that everything was dark; she always left a small light on, otherwise she would end up bumping into something.
She then realized it: when her arm reached out to search for the switch and the lights finally came on: she saw that it wasn't her room.
Her gaze drifted towards the bed, her eyes narrowed in confusion as she didn't recognize the person who owned the room, until her mind began to work and she realized… it was Simon. It was Simon without his mask.
"I'm sorry!" She gasped in surprise and her body pushed itself out, slamming the door shut.
There was a strange feeling in her chest. It was the first time she had seen Simon without a mask, he had never acted as if wearing it depended on his life, but it was… weird.
She had once asked Soap the reason for using it, he had only responded that it was to protect his identity and emphasized the words "from the enemies, not from us", however, (Y/N) had never seen his real face, it caused her curiosity, but it wasn't something that stole her sleep.
Her mind had begun to wander and she hadn't noticed that she had stood there, in the middle of the hallway, without saying a word, until she realized the door open again. Simon's face appeared in front of her; he was frowning slightly in confusion, he looked sleepy, but strangely he didn't look… upset.
(Y/N) sighed, trying not to look into his eyes too much, he didn't have his mask, it didn't look like he wanted to go back to his room to cover his face either, he looked totally normal, maybe it was just her who gave it too much importance.
"I'm sorry," she murmured once more.
"You had the wrong room." She nodded and remained silent, waiting for something that would indicate he was upset, but he seemed calm.
She always thought that Soap had told her that because he was used to living with him, she had not arrived at the base for a long time, but she worked well with everyone, since there were not many people and thought that she had not gained his trust yet to see his real face.
"Yes, I'm leaving now." She nodded and began to walk the few steps that separate her from her room, but she had barely taken a few steps when his voice stopped her.
"Wait." She turned again to look at him. The light coming from his room managed to illuminate part of the hallway. "Did it bother you to see me?"
(Y/N) giggled and shook her head, trying to relax. Maybe it was just her exaggerating, it was strange talking to Simon without his mask, she hadn't even started calling him Simon until a couple of weeks ago. To her, he was always Lieutenant or just Ghost.
"No, it's just… It's the first time I've seen you… like this." She wanted to punch her face because of how stupid it sounded, she felt even worse when Simon raised one of his eyebrows, he felt offended? She hoped not.
"Sleepy?"
"Without mask." She rolled her eyes, as if it weren't obvious and Simon laughed, which made her feel more relaxed.
Silence reigned between them for a few seconds. (Y/N) looked at her hands a little nervous, as if she were waiting for some order from him to be able to leave, even if she wasn't on duty and didn't need his permission to leave.
"I was not hiding." Simon understood it, more than one person thought that he was simply afraid to show his face. It had never been like that, it was stupid.
"I know… You're not ugly," she murmured the last words just to herself, but it was night, everything was silent and he could hear her perfectly.
"I know." Simon smiled. It's not that he was self-centered, but himself knew that he wasn't ugly.
The girl laughed again and felt her shoulders relax. She felt calmer, although there was still something strange in her chest, which she couldn't put her name to.
"I have to go to sleep." she pointed behind her, as a sign that she was going to her room, which was a few steps away.
Simon just nodded. There was something that made him want to stop her, but he didn't, he just sighed and watched as the girl turned around to take the few steps that separated her from the door of her room.
He didn't move until the sound of the door closing echoed through the empty hallway.
(Y/N) confirmed what Soap had said a few days later: Simon wasn't hiding his identity from them. It had been the first step towards seeing his face more often, she liked to see him that way; she felt that her mind saw him as a completely real person and not just a soldier that she had to obey.
And since that night, something felt different in her chest every time she saw him without his mask.
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petalheartz · 1 day
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currently working on a Ghost x F!reader fic called “Pouring Drinks, Serving Hearts” ( lame I know)
where reader’s a bartender and there are always some men trying to flirt with her before she meets Ghost at the club/pub she works at and he defends her from some creeps :33
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You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”
He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”
“I want a big mac.”
He groans louder. 
“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”
He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”
You almost tear up. 
When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”
You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”
He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 
He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 
“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”
“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”
“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 
“Do ya think he’ll like me?”
“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”
He chuckles, “Love you too.”
He leans down, kissing your belly. 
“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”
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certifiedyapperx · 24 days
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imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.
but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”
immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”
the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”
id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,
“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”
everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.
“hello? si?”
he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.
“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”
though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.
“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”
ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”
and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.
he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.
and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.
and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.
“i love you so fuckin’ much.”
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suguann · 2 months
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When you first introduce him, Simon instantly knows that he hates your now ex-boyfriend—especially after he broke up with you only two months into the relationship, and the reason behind it sets his teeth on edge.
You’re perfect and so sweet; how could he—
“He broke up with me because…I um…Do I really have to say it? It’s embarrassing.” 
He bumps his knee into yours because he really fucking sucks at saying the right thing when the moment calls for it. “You don’t have to say anything.”
With a huff, you get a little flustered and glance down into your glass of beer, brows furrowed. “I couldn’t make him fit.” 
It’s so soft, but he hears it as if you’d shouted it across the bar.
The only thought he can think of is that your ex-boyfriend is an idiot once he has your back pressed up against his chest and trembling thighs spread over top of his. Three of his thick fingers already work deep inside of you, filling the room with filthy squelching sounds and your breathy moans.
His thumb carefully drags over your clit, loving how you twitch in his arms. “See? Someone just needed to stretch your little pussy properly, huh?”
“Mhm.” You nod, pressing yourself further into him, thighs butterflying open. “It feels so good.”
“You’re so loose and wet. I bet my cock would slip right in.”
Your walls clench and flutter around him, and it takes everything in him not to toss you onto the bed and fuck you into his sheets. “Simon, can you fuck me? Please?” 
It’s hard to deny you when you ask so sweetly, but he can’t give you what you want—not yet. You whine when he pulls one of his fingers out, but it cuts off into a surprised squeak when he grabs your smaller hand to bring it between your thighs. 
“Put one of your fingers inside your pussy.”
You turn your head to look up at him, kiss-bitten lips pulled into a pout. “But—”
“Come on, love, be good for me.” Teeth nip your jaw as a warning. “I know you can be so good for me.”
Slowly, you ease your finger in beside his with little pants of his name. His cock jumps against your back as he watches your cunt open up to suck in the intrusion—it makes his stomach twist. Simon traps your finger between his and curls them alongside his inside you, tearing a sharp cry from your chest.
“You’re so gorgeous.” His words are raw, rumbling somewhere deep within his chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. So full. Better than your boyfriend ever could.”
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Masterlist
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Simon Riley was a man who hardly praised anyone. As a man of few words, a simple nod was all he’d give to anyone who managed to impress him.
At first, you were no different. Even when it came to sex, the most you’d ever get from Simon was a soft smile, or the occasional grunt and groan that he let fall from his lips.
That was, until one night, when Simon was balls deep inside of you, a simple “good girl” escaped from his lips. He didn’t miss the way your pussy tightened around him, the soft mewl that fell from your pretty little lips at his words.
“You like that, huh? You like being called a good girl?” Simon teased, stilling his cock inside of you. He watched with a grin as your eyes fluttered open, your bottom lip pouting out slightly.
“Simon.” You begged, tightening your hold on his shoulders. “Please.”
“You do, don’t you?” Simon cooed, sliding his cock out of you painstakingly slow. “Are you my good girl?”
You gave a lazy nod, causing your lover to chuckle softly. You felt a kiss pressed to your temple, as Simon’s cock rammed back into your tight hole once more.
“My good fucking girl, always taking me so well.” Simon chanted, relishing in the way your walls squeezed around him yet again. “This pretty little cunt was made just for me.”
It was as if that night had awoken something within him, and the soft praises continued to fall from his lips from then on. Simon found that he fucking loved to praise you, his pretty girl.
After all, you were his good girl, and you deserved to be treated as such.
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dixonsgirl93 · 4 months
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You take out your little tin of Vaseline, taking a small amount on your finger and bringing it to your lips. You feel Simon Riley’s large presence walk up to you. He leans one hand against the wall. He’s standing so close you could almost see his pupils expand a little when you looked up into them.
Your heart racing, you hold his gaze and rub your finger over your lips. Dip into the tin, back onto your lips. You rub your lips together.
“Can I have some?” Ghost’s gruff voice rumbles from beneath his mask.
“You want lip balm?” You ask, somewhat incredulous. He didn’t seem like the type.
He merely nods, never talking his eyes off yours.
“Okay.” You say, the word sounding more like a question. He lifts his mask just above his mouth. You go to hand over the tin. His hand comes out but instead of taking the tin, they find your chin, gently gripping you and pulling you closer. His lips land on yours, firm but a lot gentler than you were expecting.
He pulls back, rubbing his lips together. You blush furiously.
“Thanks, love.” He mumbles, pulling his mask back down. He walks away then as if nothing just happened.
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chaosandmarigolds · 2 days
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The he in question ⬇️
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yawnderu · 5 months
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There's only 3 people Simon follows on social media. Gaz, Soap... and a pornstar he's been obsessed with for months.
He loves coming back from missions and seeing you promoting your new content on Twitter, always getting fucked by a different person— never the same man or woman twice.
He'd be lying if he said he doesn't think he can fuck you better than the men jackhammering into you without care, or the women who keep staring at the camera rather than focusing on your lovely body. He could do it so much better, stuffing your pretty cunt full of eight inches of thick, veiny meat.
Warm water runs down his body as he rubs his throbbing cock, calloused hands toying with the angry, red tip before he smears it all over his shaft, almost cumming at the wet sound that rings around the shower when he jerks off again.
His leaking precum sticks to his hand, begging him to keep going while he scrolls down your Twitter. Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to stay open when he sees a new photo of you, groaning at the way your bright smile overpowers the thick cum smeared all over your lovely tits, looking so proud of finishing another man off and getting marked.
His boner is almost painful at this point. He's sure his arm is going to get a cramp after this, but he's too far gone to care.
Simon's fantasies run wild as he keeps scrolling and liking your new content. He's barely lucid enough to register the newest video, looking at the skimpy clothing you're wearing being ripped off by an older man, cock thrusting into you wildly, almost punishingly. There's nothing more lovely than your expression when you get penetrated, wide eyes looking at the camera and pretty lips turned into an "o" shape before you smile, clearly enjoying every single inch of meat stuffed into your needy cunt.
“Fuck.” His hand works faster down his shaft, the familiar tight feeling in his heavy balls returning while he lets out a low moan. A tidal wave of euphoria hits him when his half-lidded brown eyes return to the video, muscles flexing and tensing up as he releases thick ropes of cum onto the floor, letting the water wash it away.
His hips buck uncontrollably as he squeezes the last drops of thick cum out of his cock with a couple of low groans, hand finally slowing down.
His muscles finally relax, chest rising up and down while he tries to recover from the intense orgasm. He can't help but look at the ropes of release being washed away, secretly hoping they were in you instead.
His phone vibrates in his hand, and he immediately looks at it with a raised eyebrow, breath catching in his throat when he reads the notification announcing that you follow him back.
Part II | Part III
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simonzmama · 5 days
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king!simon…?
simon’s back pressed against the back of his throne, the air cold n thick with all his court cleared out. all besides you.
“take it, baby, c’mon,” he groaned, voice rattling off the surrounding walls as he dug his nails into the flesh that bounced off his brushy thighs.
your throat collapsed in desperate pretty moans, fingers curling into the soft blonde hair lining the nape of his neck. your hips worked up a strong quick pace in a madness to make this man cum, to watch him fall apart beneath you.
it was a rare event to get the satisfaction of simon absolutely belittling you, fucking you till you rang out dry, till you were nothing put a pile of flesh n bone. he liked when you worked hard, liked watching your face contort, the way your stamina broke and you begin to pick up a lazy rhythm.
not tonight though, no. you were desperate to break this man, to see that hard, guided shell crack in the dirtiest way possible.
“shut up,” you snapped, giving a harsh tug of his hair till his teeth were bared and neck was straining. his eyes stared into yours, hand slapping against your ass in a striking, stinging hit.
“watch your fuckin’ mouth, love.” he snapped, feeling the stutter of your hips, the shake of your thighs.
n without a single thought your palm slaps against his cheek in an angry hit, fingers leaving white fading prints against his clean-shaven cheek. “watch yours, simon.”
his gasp rang out low, throat curling in till it was laced in an angry growl. yet, when your fingers settle against the column of his throat and you work your hips harder, his mind short circuits… his cock throbs.
“wasn’t too hard now was it?” you laugh in his face, watching his lips part and eyes go all wide. “and it’s ma’am to you.”
oop. laughing at myself tbh 😂
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gaysindistress · 3 months
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Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.
Simon Riley masterlist
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1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.
Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.
Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.
No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.
2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.
I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.
The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.
You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.
Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.
In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.
He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.
3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.
Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.
Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.
He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.
After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?
That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.
He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.
You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 20 days
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[TF141 with A Reader That Can Fall Asleep Anywhere and Anytime]
Price’s heart skips a beat when he steps into the bedroom and sees your legs on the bed while the rest of your body just dangles from the edge of the bed.
He manhandles you back onto the bed and kisses you goodnight, but his poor heart gets surprised again when he goes to the bathroom in the morning and is welcomed by the sight of you dangling your legs on the edge of the empty bathtub this time and body lies in the tub.
He picks you up and you stir, murmuring that you were brushing your teeth when he asks you why you’re sleeping in the tub, and then drift back to dream in his arms with the toothbrush in your hand.
Soap is too used to your weird sleeping habit, so when he comes home and sees you lying with your head on the couch but hanging your legs over the back of the couch, he just scoffs a laugh and carries you to bed.
“Hey Johnny” you mumble when you feel him put you on the bed.
“go back to sleep” He kisses you and goes to shower, and when he finishes and goes back to your side, he shakes his head in disbelief when he finds you lying horizontally even though he just adjusted your position into a normal human one 5 minutes ago.
Gaz wakes up in the morning and walks to the living room just to witness you standing but bend over the kitchen counter, he almost thinks you’re dead and the haziness in his mind just vanishes in a second.
“babe wake up!” he knows you’re alive but still checks if you are breathing as he wakes you up.
“goo morni kyl I -&&:@/“ and he only watches you straight up for a greeting and then slump onto the counter to sleep again, while the tea you make is beside you.
Ghost
“What do you want for dinner?” He asks when you two sit together in front of the desk, he's using his laptop while you’re reading.
“What you want for dinner love?” He says again when he doesn’ t get a response from you.
“Love?”
He turns to face you after another silence, and finally, he discovers why you're so quiet, because you fall asleep while resting your head on your hand.
He grins while taking out his phone and records you, and (luckily) he captures your head slips out of your palm and slams your face on your book as you are totally unfazed and keep snoring.
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suguann · 2 months
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Being a camgirl comes with its fair share of ups and downs, but you never expected one of the downs to be one of your unboxings from a fan going horribly wrong during a live stream—the proof of it still buzzing between your thighs beyond your finger's reach. 
A rush of embarrassment comes with knocking on your roommate’s bedroom door and asking him for help because you’re nearing the brink of overstimulation and can’t think straight enough to get the words out. It’s worse when he stands there and says nothing—all imposing with two tattooed arms crossed over his chest—while you try to get through a sentence without moaning. 
Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway. 
Then he finally says, “Get on the bed,” in a steady and low voice, opening his bedroom door wider.
You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as you settle back against his pillows, biting back whimpers with a too-hot face and sweat dripping down your back. 
Him settling a knee on the bed makes you jump, “Let’s take a look, love.” 
Simon crawls up the bed, forcing your knees open, and you’re suddenly very aware of how broad and big he looks, towering over you—every part of you laid bare for him to see. A large hand presses right below your belly button, jostling the toy inside you, and this time, you can’t hold back the squeal that rips from your chest. 
“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice imperceptibly deeper, his lips twitching like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, you’re going to feel a slight stretch.”
You bite your lip. “A-alright—”
Slight doesn’t even come close to the fingers sliding into you, spearing your sensitive walls open and pressing into a spot where you’ve never been able to reach with startling precision. You remind yourself that he has to do this, that he’s just being…friendly, or whatever makes the lines less blurred. 
None of this stops the fact your lower stomach burns with the promise of another orgasm when his fingers brush against the egg vibrator before accidentally pressing it deeper inside.
“Ah, there it is.”
At the sight of your scrunched nose, he asks if it hurts. You shake your head; eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to hold back the stinging pleasure racing up your spine. “N-no,” you whimper.
“Relax, okay?”
Simon doesn’t comment on how you’re implying that it feels good. So good, you think, his thumb just barely touching your clit as he twists his hand to try a different angle. Then he pushes down on your belly again, and his long fingers finally grip the vibrator.
“Oh!” you moan at the feel of it dragging down your front wall, your fingers gripping the sheets. 
He has to tell you to relax again, his voice cracking, but you hardly hear it over your heart beating loudly in your ears. His fingers drag the toy out slowly, almost too slow that you can feel it bumping against every slippery ridge inside you.
“Ah, sorry,” he says when you twitch—unapologetic—using his thumb to rub soothing circles into your stomach. “You’re so wet. I need to make sure I don’t lose it again.”
You nod, cunt clenching down at his words.
And then Simon’s fingers curl up: your thighs start quivering, breath caught in your throat, and your jaw locks up until your orgasm ripples through you. It’s unending, the strongest one yet, and just when you think it’s over, you feel the press of his palm against your clit.
“W-wait! Simon,” you moan, pushing at his hand. “No more, I‘m sensitive!”
He gets you to fall over the edge one more time before finally slipping the vibrator out of you, letting it hum softly on the bed, and your exhausted body sinks into the mattress once again. Simon gathers you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.
You swallow lungfuls of air against his chest, head still spinning and walls spasming from the aftershocks. 
He murmurs in your ear about how good you are, kisses your temple, and rubs your sides, and it’s… enlightening. Moments pass before you finally return to yourself, and when he pulls back, his brows furrow at your pout.
“All good?”
You shake your head and go with honesty. “I didn’t think you’d cuddle me afterward.”
He smiles, thumb flicking your bottom lip. “You wanted me to fuck you?” 
Your mouth falls open. “N-no—”
Then he leans down, lips brushing against your ear: “Don’t worry, love. Good girls get fucked hard.”
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Simon Riley was a man who was quiet in bed. Occasionally, you’d hear a soft groan, or a curse escape his lips as he buried himself further inside of you. But other than that he was relatively mute in the bedroom.
Tonight, you decided, would be different. You would do anything in your power to hear those sweet noises you just knew your husband could make.
He was above you, languidly and silently thrusting into you, save for a small grunt here or there. He was very much a man that liked to be in charge, liked to control the pace.
So to say he was surprised when you flipped both of you over, was an understatement. You hovered yourself over him, your soaked core practically dripping onto his cock.
Simon looked up at you with a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. “Well, this is a treat. You wanting to take charge, baby?”
You bit your lip softly as you got yourself comfortable, your fingers finding purchase on Simon’s chest. “Wanna make you feel good, Si.”
When you rammed yourself back down onto his thick length, Simon let out euphoric moan causing your walls to clench down around him. He sounded fucking heavenly, and you needed more of it.
“Need to hear you, Si, please.” You begged, your eyes fluttering shut as you continued your steady pace. You always loved this position, you loved when Simon let you be in control. You loved to be the one fucking him.
Simon gave you a wicked smile, his hands giving your hips a firm squeeze as he helped guide your hips. “That right, sweet girl? Does me making some noise make that pretty little pussy clench around me?”
You bit back a moan at his filthy words as your walls clenched around him once more, your nails digging crescents into Simon’s muscular chest. “P-please.”
“Go on then, love. Be a good girl and make me.” Simon was an absolute tease in the bedroom, but you fucking loved it.
Your hands found Simon’s, moving them up slowly so that they now rested on your breasts, his large hands completely encompassing each of them. The way he squeezed at the supple flesh had your wet walls closing down around his length, practically holding it in a vice grip.
Simon truly wanted to tease you further, he loved riling you up to the point where you’d get that cute pout he’d loved so damn much- but the way you looked fucking yourself stupid on his cock, mixed with the way your pussy felt just so fucking good clenched around him, he lost all his willpower.
“Fuck, that’s my girl. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Simon groaned, his pretty scarred lips falling open, his brow furrowing slightly. A string of moans left his mouth as you dug your nails further into his chest, the movement of your hips growing frenzied as you chased your high. “So good for me.”
Simon no longer bit back his moans, no longer held in his soft cries of pleasure, he became a grunting, groaning mess beneath you. The pleasure for him was overwhelming, between the way you took charge, the way you clenched around him and the way you yourself sounded? He was fucking ruined.
And you fucking loved it.
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