#think about him watching simone finally free to be himself and think about him giving himself permission to ask himself some questions

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 2

Part 1 Part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

"If you're going to insist on making dinner for the both of us I might as well pay for the groceries." Simon was standing next to your door waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had asked him this morning what he wanted for dinner as you were going to the store after work and could get anything he wanted.

"Me making dinner for you is supposed to be a thank you for helping me Simon. I love that you're joining me, but I'm not going to let you pay."

"We'll see."

You finally walk out of your bedroom towards Simon, "Your job on this trip is going to be pushing the cart and looking pretty. I'm going to be grabbing everything and paying." Giving Simon a playful glare as the two of you makes your way out the door.

Pretty?

Do you really think he looks pretty? 

-

Simon hated grocery shopping; he has always felt that it was a waste of time, far too many people walking around, and the lights in here were almost blinding. He’s not happy to be here, but he also wasn’t going to let you continue to let you do all this work and not help in some way. 

At the very least shopping with you did make the experience more enjoyable. All he had to do was follow you. Letting you take control of where they went and did was strangely freeing from his usual day to day. Plus getting to just watch and listen to you ramble about your day was not something he was going to give up now that he’s here. 

"You know you still haven't told me what you wanted. I've been making my favorites every time you come over; it's your turn now to decide the menu." 

"I've been living off military mess hall food for most of my life. Anything you make is going to be a favorite of mine, love."

"How about you tell me at least one thing you want?" 

"Anything I want?"

"Anything!" 

You. 

That is the answer Simon wants to say, but he knows he can't, "I like shepherd’s pie.” 

“Shepherd’s pie it is!” You say, giving him a wide grin. 

The rest of the shopping is mostly uneventful. It isn't until the two of you were at the end of your grocery list did you seem to realize something was missing. 

“Oh, meet me at the front! I forgot to add apples to the list; I’ll go grab it real quick.” 

Before Simon could even disagree and say he’d just go with you; your figure was already speeding away from him. Slowly he made his way to the front of the store out of the way of others to wait. It wasn’t until eight minutes later when he saw no sign of you that he started to worry. 

It took all but a moment to find you, and he was not pleased with what he saw when he did. A man was standing far too close to you. The uncomfortable look on your face only served in sealing the man’s fate. 

Neither of you seemed to notice as he walked closer, but he was able to finally hear your conversation now. 

“-on, just one date. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 

"My boyfriend is waiting for me; you need to leave me alone." You try to step around him, but the man is quick to side step in front of you and makes a move to grab you. Simon would happily beat the man into the ground, but he doesn’t want to frighten you. So he does the next best thing which is to rail the man with the cart. 

With a loud grunt the man falls onto the ground holding his side in pain. 

“She said to leave her alone. So why don’t you crawl away now like the worm you are.” Simon snarls down at him. Moving the cart and himself to stand between you and the man. 

"What the fuck man!" 

"I'll give you five seconds to get out of here." Simon wasn't about to have a pointless back and forth with this guy. The only thing he cared about right now was getting him away from you.

He stands slowly and glares in your direction before practically running away from Simon and you.

As soon as his figure disappears from sight Simon turns to you and gently grips your shoulder; tucking you into his side as he guides you back to the front of the store.

"Thank you for doing that; you didn't have to but I really appreciate it." 

"It's no problem," Simon continued his hold on your shoulder; not wanting to yet let go of you, "If anyone messes with you send them my way. I'll deal with them." 

You give him a smile in return. "That was honestly really funny by the way; hitting him with the cart." 

"I would have ran him over with it, but I didn’t want you having to find a new grocery store because I got the two of us banned." 

You laugh at his words and it makes his chest feel tight. He almost wants to record it just so that he could take it with him anywhere he goes. 

"C'mon, let's get out of here before they change their minds then!" 

Simon had of course won in the end when it came to who was going to be paying. He knew he would, but you still put in a good fight to beat him to it. He’d let you win in a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. 

-

It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting in your flat after eating did you seem to notice that he had been acting more reserved than he normally would be. Of course you weren’t about to just let him stew in thoughts for long once you caught on to it. 

“What’s wrong Simon? You’re acting a lot broodier tonight.” 

“I’m leaving soon; next week.” There was no point in lying to you; Simon had gotten the call from Price just a couple of days ago. He had been wondering how he was going to break the news to you. 

“Leaving? So soon; do you know when you’ll be back?”

No he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you again. For all he knows the day he leaves could be the last day the two of you ever see each other again. “No, but I’ll see what I can do to come back soon.” 

“You better,” You give him a soft elbow jab to the side, “I’m gonna miss you y'know. I’ve gotten so used to having you around these past few weeks.” 

He had as well, almost regrettably so. Your presence in his life had done something to him that he’d never be able to undo. Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to feel not being able to see you. The daily morning walks, evening dinners, and weekend hangouts had quickly become a staple in his life. 

For now though the only thing he wanted to do was live in the moment. He didn’t have to say goodbye right now and he wasn’t going to act like he did while he was with you. That time would come later.

Taglist:

@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving

[omarfor-orchestra]

Ok però dopo aver passato tutti gli stages of grief ed averne creato un altro chiamato "sarcasmo" sono all'accettazione. They would make a good couple.

Spoilers in the tags

[rowarn]

everyone stop what you're doing i just had an idea of simon who likes to edge himself.....omg....

afab!reader, no prns, edging obvi, ruined orgasm, simon being selfish <3 not edited oof

when he's fucking you, hips pumping in a rhythm that basically melts your brain. he's got you pinned beneath him in a press, legs spread obscenely wide so your knees are against the bed. he's got you stuck there under his massive weight. you can't do anything but stare up at him with wide eyes as he fucks you.

he looks so good above you, muscles flexing with every movement and his dark eyes lidded with pleasure that he's getting from working his fat cock into your dripping little cunt.

"fuck, that's good," he groans, blunt nails biting into the tender skin under your thighs, "feels so fuckin' good 'round me, love."

you clench around him at the sound of his voice and the corner of his lips twitches up at the blatant, shameless reaction you have to him. he brings one hand up to his mouth, meeting your eyes in a heated stare as he licks the pad of his thumb, quickly bringing it down to press against your swollen clit -- twitchy and sensitive from neglect since he'd just settled for fucking you so far.

"you gettin' close?" he practically coos, making you whimper. the sound goes straight to his cock and god, he loves the sounds you make, "yeah, i know, pretty thing...i treat you real good, don't i?"

you're tightening up around him and he practically feels the breath punch out of his lungs. you're getting close; he's learned all your tells by now. the way your back arches and your mouth open as you whimper his name. you get wetter and wetter, gooey cunt making a nice little mess for him to fuck into. it makes lewd, squelching noises as he sinks balls deep with a slow roll of his hips.

"s-so close, simon!" you cry out, blindly reaching your hands down to press against his hips.

you always do that -- it's adorable. you actually think that'll stop him from sinking deep, deep inside. his cock knocks against your back well, the little pang of pain making your body twitch. usually, he bats your hands away just to be mean and watch you whine. you really think your trembling hands would be enough to stop the powerful movements of his hips.

he's close to his own end. his cock throbs the closer he gets with every deep thrust he gives you. both of you racing to your ends -- it would be so sweet to cum together, he thinks.

but he knows that's not going to happen.

it's his favorite thing to do. he just can't explain what it is he loves about it.

just when his orgasm starts to crest he pulls his cock free from the hot clutch of your cunt. he feels a little bad, he knows you had just fallen over the edge as he did -- leaving you nothing to cum around, little pussy clenching and cumming all empty and no pleasure from it. a sob tears free from your chest and the sound goes straight to his cock. you squirm under his weight as he watches his own cock twitch against your drooling cunt from his own denial, willing himself not to cum untouched at the sight of you cryin' for him. he closes his eyes and waits for his orgasm to wane before he looks at you again.

"simon..." you practically wail in despair, drawing his gaze up to your face. and fuck, you're so sweet for him.

your eyes are teary and he clicks his tongue, "sorry, love...that was mean of me, huh?"

you nod your head, pouting up at him. despite the ruined orgasm, you're still sensitive enough to twitch beneath him when he sinks his cock back into you with a swift grind of his hips.

"let me make it up to you, yeah?"

your sweet, trusting eyes makes his heart melt and he almost feels bad. almost.

because he knows for the rest of the night, he's going to be edging himself using your pretty little pussy until he finally decides he's ready to cum. and he's not going to care if you actually properly cum or not, because this is gonna be about him using you.

by the end of the night, his cocks so hard that it fucking hurts. he'd edged himself more times than he could count, the more he did the less time he got in between. he started simply dipping his length into you and pulling it right back out, eyes rolling at the sticky strings that connected the head to your clenching hole.

"please, simon...please, please, please..." you're breathlessly begging. he has no clue if you'd even properly cum the entire night, he had practically entered a trance and become a mindless beast thinking only with his cock. theres tears on your cheeks, dried and new and the sight is so lovely that he wants to take a picture and keep it on him at all times.

he finally takes mercy, however. your pretty little clit is so swollen and he just has to press his fingers against it. it's so sensitive that you almost immediately start cumming -- this time around his cock, he makes sure of it.

you pull him over the edge with you, letting him dump a nice, hot load into your pussy while you cum nice and hard around him.

when you sag into the bed and sniffle, cutely reaching out for a hug, he can't help but press a kiss against your forehead <3

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, Purely smut/suggestive content, Mentions of various kinks/sexual fantasies, Mentions of Simon’s SA

Summary: How Simon handles his sex life!

A/N: I’m making quick throw-away content for scheduled/backup posts so I’m sorry if it isn’t up to my usual standard.

Word Count: 1K (Edited)

After his sexual assault, Simon’s sex drive and libido became almost non-existent. He doesn’t feel the need to masturbate or have any sexual encounters. Watching any porn just makes him uncomfortable and he rather not waste his time with it since it’s all fake anyways.

Sex isn’t even an option when the two of you first start dating. Not because he isn’t attracted to you, because of course he is, but because of the sexual assault he went through. Even though he’s dating you, he doesn’t fully trust himself or you yet when it comes to that part of his life. 

He feels bad about it sometimes. There’s always a little voice in his head trying to convince him that he isn’t good enough for you because he can’t easily give you what you want or need. You constantly reassure him that sex isn’t the foundation of a relationship and that you would wait for as long as it takes until he’s ready. And if he’s never ready? That’s okay too because you love him for him, and not for anything he may or may not be able to offer you. 

When he’s finally ready to try, you both take it slow. You constantly whisper words of encouragement into his ears, constantly asking him if he feels okay, and that you both can stop at any time. You guys don’t go all the way the first time, instead letting each other get familiar with each other’s body by gentle touches. Each time you try, Simon gets more and more comfortable and takes it the tiniest bit further.

Simon always takes the lead, because he doesn’t feel comfortable being in a submissive role or in a position that feels like he doesn’t have control. It’s perfectly fine with you because you understand that it’s what Simon needs. 

He’s paranoid to hurt you, even after you both reach a point where sex isn’t a sensitive topic for Simon and he’s much more confident with his sex life. He always goes slow when he first enters you and pauses if you stiffen the tiniest bit or make any face or noise that isn’t 100% pleasure. 

He is big on foreplay. Not only because he loves it, but because it makes him feel more comfortable. It gives the both of you time to prepare for penetrative sex and it allows him to make sure you’re absolutely ready to take him. There is also a sort of deep connection he finds in foreplay that he enjoys.

Simon is very simple when it comes to sex. He doesn’t feel the need to do anything fancy or add extra flare in the bedroom. All he wants is for the both of you to be comfortable and experience the intimacy of the act. 

That being said, he isn’t into a lot of kinks personally. He doesn’t even entertain the idea of things like CNC kinks, weapon-related kinks, bondage, choking, gagging, or just any kink that remotely reminds him of torture or gives you little to no control/inability to voice any discomfort. That doesn’t mean he won’t engage in other things if you ask kindly and he does research on it and deems it okay. 

He won't indulge in free use kinks or somnophilia. Even if you give him permission. He just doesn't feel comfortable doing anything when you're not conscious enough to consent in the moment. He doesn't want to catch you off guard or surprise you with anything. It doesn't make him feel good thinking about taking advantage of your body whenever he wants, even if you say it's okay.

He’s verbal during sex. He’s constantly giving you praise and asking you how you feel. He’s shy at first when it comes to voicing his own pleasure though. He’ll try to hold in moans and muffle them. But as he progresses and loses himself in the moment, he’ll get a bit louder. 

Simon only really likes missionary positions. He needs to be able to gauge your reactions to anything he does and he likes the intimacy of it. Any position where he’s on the bottom or on his back makes him feel claustrophobic. The only non-missionary position he likes is when he’s sitting up and you’re in his lap facing him. 

Simon likes eye contact. He’ll ask you softly to open your eyes if you close them in pleasure and he’ll gently move your face back towards his to maintain contact. 

Period sex is a no. Not because the thought of blood or periods disgust him. He’s seen far worse things in the field and blood practically stains his skin. It’s a big no because he can’t see your blood. He doesn’t like the image that he’s hurt you and caused you to bleed. Doesn’t like the scenarios his brain makes up of you bleeding out and hurt. He just can’t do it. 

When he’s in the bedroom, it’s just Simon. There will be no trace of Ghost for the most part. For him, they’re two separate people and he doesn’t trust Ghost around you. He doesn’t want to bring any of that stuff from the battlefield to you. He wouldn’t want to wear the mask during sex, but maybe if you’ve been wanting it for a while and he’s comfortable enough, he will. 

He doesn’t like quickies. He thinks it has a bit of a degrading factor and he doesn’t like the fast and throw-away pace. He doesn’t like that they’re specifically rough in nature, only used for a quick release. He’d rather prefer to take his time with you in your shared bedroom. 

He doesn’t like having sex when he’s angry or stressed. He’d be too in his head for him to enjoy the moment and he doesn’t want to risk his emotions getting the best of him and possibly hurt you. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s just using you for a release either. Again, sex is all about love and intimacy for him. If he wants you to help him calm down, he’d much rather prefer drinking tea and cuddling. 

He is the biggest supporter of aftercare. He’s doing everything he can to help you calm down and relax after sex. He’s asking you if you need anything, massaging any sore muscles, getting you food and water. No matter how tired he is after sex, he’ll always stay up and go through the whole aftercare routine to show his love and thanks for you.

I know I didn’t go into much detail about kinks like I did with Miguel’s NSFW headcanons, so I hope you all aren’t too disappointed. I just feel like these are more realistic for Simon and Ghost as a character!

[sant-riley]

Yeah but like what if one day Gaz walked into a room and saw Y/N FNAF lore dumping to Ghost

[Infodumping the boys]

(Mostly Platonic tf141 x gen neutral! reader, hints at Ghost bc it’s me and I’m biased.)

Summary: Teddy aka You, decide to gather the gang and tell them about five nights at Freddy’s before the movie comes out.

Word count: 800 ish

Warnings: Possibly of for the boys (idrc tho lmao), Teddy is this readers callsign, reader is implied to be at least early 20’s, I can’t think of anything else tbh but lmk if this does need something tagged!

It wasn't uncommon for you to infodump your teammates, they're all older than you and have significantly less screen time than you (it ties into being older). Most of the information you give them is something they take as fact, this is no different.

Gaz of all people knows your interests best, you two being the closest in age means you both realistically grew up with the internet and its most popular series.

The last thing he expected walking into one of the many meeting rooms on base, was you at the front of the room, your laptop hooked up to the projector and Price and Soap sitting down, dutifully listening with varying degrees of attention.

Price is to your left, staring down at mission documents that no doubt need to be turned in by tomorrow. A glass of some liquor next to his stack, a cigar box that's propped open right by it as well.

To anyone else, it would seem like Price isn't listening and he's just here to keep you from bothering him to come but Gaz can see the Captain's eye flick up every so often, his eyes softening when his gaze falls on yours, listening for a few beats, a miniscule upturn of his lips until he's looking back down again, grabbing a pen to make a correction.

Soap on the other hand is sitting next to Cap, a hand resting under his chin, the other flipping around a pen in his hands. He's nodding and asking questions as you flick through. Below him is a notebook that seems to have scribbled in it, if Gaz walked in further he could see little drawings of Monty Gator and Soap himself, a Venn diagram with a large red writing saying "Mohawk!!"

Ghost being there probably should be a shock but it isn't. The man is known to follow you around like a shadow, he humors you arguably the most out of the four men, letting you drag him to and from places with minimal complaint. He bets Ghost is gonna be the one to take you to the five nights at Freddys movie premiere.

Simon's dressed down to just his hoodie and his balaclava mask, attentively watching you as you speak passionately about each character and their role in the series. his dark eyes flicking around to stare at the drawings you inserted so everyone could see what the animatronics and others looked like.

You would've thought this was a mission debrief with how focused he was on your words.

Gaz lets out a fake cough, announcing himself to the room and he watches as your eyes immediately latch onto him, he ignores how his heart skips a beat when he sees the crinkles of your eyes, seeing you shoot a glowing smile his way.

You always look at him like that but he never tires of it.

"Gaz! Finally, you're here!"

Rushing over to him, you grab at his hand, quickly intertwining fingers, and start dragging him to the seat next to Ghost. He sits down with a huff, amusement swimming around his eyes. You move to go back to the front of the room, gleefully rocking on the balls of your feet as you look at them.

"What's all this about?" He questions, after getting nods in acknowledgment from the other 3 men in the room.

"Teddy here is tellin' us about five nights at…Frankies?"

"It's Freddy's, Johnny." You roll your eyes playfully.

"No shot you're making Ghost and Cap listen to this."

"I'm not making them do anything, they're here of their own free will, thank you very much." Sticking out your tongue, moving to click to the next slide.

"Is that true Cap?"

"It's background noise," John murmurs with a shrug, taking a swig out of his glass. He leans back in his seat, seemingly taking a momentary break as he looks around at the table.

"Got nothin' better else to do," Simon answers easily, looking at Gaz from the corner of his eye.

"You ain't gonna ask me, Garrick?"

"Nah, you of all people would enjoy it."

"What's tha-"

"Boys! Shut it! We're getting to the good part!" You clap your hands together and Soap immediately cuts himself off, looking back at you.

With all the boys' eyes on you, you clear your throat and push a button, there, from when Gaz remembers, is Michael Afton in all his purple nasty body glory.

"Fucks wrong with him? Why does he look like that?" Simon remarks, an eyebrow shooting up.

"I'm so glad you asked, you know actually the more I think about it, You and Michael actually have a lot in common.”

"How so?"

"Asshole dad, the oldest brother, daddy issues, I can keep going if you want."

Ghost just grunts in acknowledgment, raising a hand to his head and rubbing at his temples.

Price chokes on his liquor, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe.

Soap audibly drops an "oh."

And Gaz just stares, truth be told, yeah. Yeah, he can see the resemblance.

[billfarrah]

One thing that’s really rubbing me the wrong way about some people’s reaction to the ending is the way people are talking about Wille. I see comments that essentially imply he is nothing without his privilege backing him, that he has no personality outside of his relationship with Simon and he’s gonna be in for a rude awakening after the ending when he realizes the attention on him isn’t gone just because he’s giving up the title of Crown Prince and life as a normal person isn’t going to be an easy or smooth road.

To me it seems like the message has completely gone over some people’s heads.

No part of me felt while watching the ending that everything is now resolved and Wille will live happily ever after without any adversity ever again… No?

The point is he finally has a choice where he ends up.

Wille literally explains this to the Queen in the final scene - that he’s never felt like he’s had a choice. He didn’t choose to be born into the royal family, and as he points out to his mother, neither did she. The public didn’t choose who inherits the crown. None of them chose it. Wille wants a choice. By staying in this role and doing what is expected of him simply because it’s his birthright is exactly what Wille is actively fighting against.

Another common thread I’ve seen thrown around is that Wille has no personality outside of Simon and I think people need to realize that one’s hobbies and interests do not define their personality. Wille very much has a personality and he had one before he met Simon - he’s always been the type to question the status quo and why things are the way they are. In season 1 episode 1, before Wille meets Simon, we see Wille scoffing at being made to mingle and pose for photos with people he doesn’t know and we see him telling Henry and Walter they’re allowed to have their own opinions when they mindlessly agree with everything he says. If anything, he starts losing this side of his personality because of the restrictions the crown puts on him. Wille falling in line with his expectations throughout the series takes him further away from this side of himself that’s always been there. We see how detrimental this is not just to his relationship with Simon, but with Wille’s relationship with himself. How exactly is Wille supposed to find what he’s passionate about when he’s consistently being told that these are the things he should care about, this is how he needs to look to the public? This is all a very intentional narrative choice to demonstrate why Wille staying in his role is detrimental to his mental health and his ability to grow personally.

The ending is not saying “everything is fixed now and Wille will have a totally adversity-free life with Simon.” Nothing is fixed and nothing is certain, but at least he made a choice. He’s going to stumble and he’s going to continue to make mistakes and a life path is not going to construct itself for him, but at least he now has a choice. He doesn’t have to pick a hobby or interest that’s considered suitable for him. He can get tattoos if he wants to. He can get married or not get married. He can have kids or not have kids. He can go to university and study whatever he wants, and yes, he will still have his family’s money. He’s not gonna be destitute and that is indeed a privilege that Wille is aware of. Should he stay in a role he doesn’t want simply and that makes him miserable because he’s privileged? For all we know, maybe his family will cut him off and he’ll literally be on his own, and that’s a risk he’s willing to take to be, in his mind, free.

The public is not suddenly going to lose interest in him, but at least he won’t have to concern himself with the royal court dictating how he and Simon act or appear. He will no longer feel like he needs to control how Simon conducts his social media presence. It’s very clear in s3 that Wille is not personally upset with Simon for posting the song or the picture with the little boy at the worker’s March - he smiles when he sees it - but that he’s worried what the royal court is going to think about it.

As far as the idea that Wille giving up the crown at the end was indeed for Simon because Wille has no identity without Simon, I really don’t think this is fair to say at all, because Wille was unhappy with his position even before he met Simon. He hated that he couldn’t even do something silly and reckless without issuing an apology. He hated that he had to uproot his entire life because he made a mistake and his family was trying to save his image in the eyes of the public. The thing is, before he met Simon, and before the events of the series, Wille didn’t feel like he had a way out, and funnily enough, that’s for the exact same reason people are dunking on him for now - because it’s the only way of life he knew. He didn’t see a way out and it’s through being with Simon that his extremely narrow view of the world gets challenged and he’s finally able to see a way out. Did Simon inspire him to do what he did? Of course he did. This entire concept is materialized through the scene where Simon tells Wille that he never had a choice who he was born as and that he sees how the monarchy makes him feel. To say that Wille gave it up for Simon implies, to me, that Wille would’ve been happy in the role if not for Simon, which I don’t believe is true. He’d still be miserable but perhaps feel less like he has the agency to do things about it. Getting to be with Simon at the end is certainly a big part of why he did it, but that also just kinda goes hand in hand with his own personal freedom, doesn’t it?

I find it kinda funny how much the internet preaches that it’s never too late to figure out who you are or what you wanna do and I see people acting like Wille is somehow doomed because he’s a 17-year-old without any interests or hobbies. Wille’s entire struggle is with having his life completely mapped out for him and it’s like with him giving up his role people are now questioning the fact that he doesn’t have an entire life mapped out for himself. I spent my time when I was 17 blogging on tumblr and doing nothing else and didn’t go to college until I was 24. I’m 29 now and I’m still learning what I’m passionate about. To treat Wille’s lack of hobbies or interests as some kind of moral failure or indicative of a lack of personality really, really bothers me and to me his lack of interests and hobbies has always been a very intentional writing choice, and the ending, if anything, gives him all the time in the world to figure that out. He might even develop an interest and then realize it’s not for him! The amount of people I know that went to college for what they thought they wanted to do then dropped out because they changed their mind, or graduated from school, couldn’t find a job, and then went back to school for something else is endless. This is all part of the human experience and it’s going to be an entirely new journey for him, but that part of his journey did not a part of this particular story, and in that way, the ending is open. It also helps that regardless of Wille’s wealth and privilege, education in Sweden is FREE.

In the end, the message of the ending is exactly what Boris said to Wille in season 2: we can’t choose who we are born as, but we can choose how we want to live, and that’s exactly what the ending is saying, and that’s what Edvin meant when he said the ending is open. Wille’s road is not suddenly going to be perfect and easy, but at least all of his choices, including his mistakes and struggles, can be entirely his own.

[meowpupp]

so i read your last post with hybrid!reader and owners!simon and price.

what about hybrid!soap being forced to watch them go at it as a punishment?? poor baby maybe touched reader without price’s permission bc he missed her so much after their last play date :(( so simon and price have to teach him a lesson about touching what isn’t his

-bear 🩷🐻

I LOVE YOUR BRAIN BEAR‼️‼️

tw:// punishment, hybrid smut, intense bdsm dom/sub dynamics, brief overstim, dycraphilia,

pup!johnny who can't get enough of your cunt. he craves the feeling of your wet, gummy walls hugging his cock. how the sticky mess of your slick and his cum form a frothy, white ring around the base of his cock.

he's constantly bottoming for owner!simon. always rendered helpless against the mattress as he takes each thick, veiny inch of his owner. his poor cock twitching against the bedsheets with each thrust, tip red and leaky as he whimpers.

so when he finally gets the chance to bury himself in something warm and wet, it's irresistible. johnny eagerly waits the whole week for your next playdate, thick cock already hardening in his boxers as he thinks about your little cunt.

but unfortunately for him, Simon's feeling mean. whether it's just so him and price can have some entertainment, or as some sort of punishment, simon makes it very clear that johnny is not to fuck you. hes not even allowed to grope your soft thighs, or grind against your plush ass.

and it's pure torture! simon doesn't give johnny a moment alone with you, keeping you both in sight. however, its not just simon. price is in on it too, dressing you in one of his oversized shirts, your tail making the fabric ride up just enough to see your pretty lace panties.

johnny's in pure hell. watching how the other two men in the room get free reign, cupping your cunt through your panties, smacking your ass. they taunt and tease the poor boy, showing him how your slick makes your panties cling to your folds, lace translucent as you get wetter and wetter.

simon spreads his fingers to show off just how slick youve got, only inches away from johnnys face, "look at that, poor girls dripping. such a shame its going to waste." all before he smears the sticky mess over johnny's face.

price even sits you on his lap, eyes locked on johnny's as he slowly pulls your shirt off. his forearm pins you against him, keeping you vulnerable and exposed.

simon just smirks, watching the way johnny's eyes cling to your cunt. the mutt is practically drooling, cock rock hard in his boxers. it only makes it easier to torture the poor pup.

"tell him pretty girl, tell johnny how much you need his cock. how much you miss him deep in here." price cups your cunt again, squeezing softly as he speaks

it only takes one little slip up, and then johnny finally snaps. he's mean with you, shoving your face into the carpet and pulling aside your panties. he doesn't even prep your little cunt, just forcing every inch of his thick, girthy length inside.

his fingers stuff your mouth, his whole body shivering as he burns with pure pleasure. he missed this, missed you. his favourite girl, choking on his fingers as he ruins your pretty cunt.

its a short-lived victory, however. it seems just as fast as he had pushed into you, he's pulled away.

simon drags him by his collar, ripping the mutt away from you, throwing him to the ground. johnnys cock throbs and aches, tip angry and red, leaking pre-cum that was meant to be buried in you.

it only took minutes until hes gagged, bound, denied. a ball gag muffles each whine, his arms bound behind him as he's tied to a chair, poor dick drooling as a cockring sits flush to the base.

all he can do is whine and twitch, listen to the muffled moans and wet gags you make. his eyes train to your lips stretched wide around prices cock. your nose brushes the base, throat bulging with each thrust. you drool and choke, crying as your owner uses you.

simon grips your hips tightly, keeping you still. he spreads your thighs wide, ensuring that there's enough space for his big, bulky body to fit between them.

he's just as mean, if not more, than price. fucking into your cunt, forcing every thick, long, inch inside. his cock feels as if it's pressing against your sternum, rearranging your guts with each movement.

he does everything he knows johnny's wishes he could do. licking a stripe up your sternum, sucking on your tits, tugging your nipples with his teeth. simons big hands keep you in place as he mauls the soft flesh, marking you.

johnny can see the way your thighs spasm, squirming as you get closer and closer. he's the one who's supposed to be fucking your gummy walls, he's the one meant to be marking your pretty tits, he's the one who's supposed to cum deep, deep inside you.

his cock throbs and twitches, almost feeling as if its about to explode. his thighs shake, little tears brewing in his eyes as he watches. the cool air is unforgiving, only making him feel all the more sensitive and exposed. simon and price barely look at him, only checking now and then to make sure he's watching.

the two laugh, mocking the poor pup, "aw, look sweetheart," price pulls his cock from your throat, sticky strings of spit connecting the tip to your lips, "poor johnny, hm? doesn't he look pathetic? whining and whimpering for a cunt that isn't his."

it only goes on and on. its only four rounds later that they finally decide to grant johnny mercy. your body is twitchy and oversensitive. your tummy bloated from cum, thick, white, hot loads slowly leaking from your swollen cunt.

it's only then, when your body feels burning hot and achy, that they let johnny have you. simon even helps, lining up johnny's tip with your twitchy hole, guiding you as you sink down.

it's instant, a knee-jerk reaction. a loud whine rips from your throat, eyes glassy as tears spill down your face. it's too much. your poor cunt hurts. youre stuffed to your limits, clit swollen and throbbing.

johnny's almost brain-dead, desperately fucking up into you. your gummy walls are hot, a mix of simon and prices cum forced out with each thrust. the way you squirm and clench, clawing at his chest only makes him rutt into you harder. he doesnt even register how you cry, telling your owners that you dont want it, its too much, that it hurts.

simon just sighs, pulling you up and off, ignoring the way johnny almost sobs. the man hands you off to your owner, then turns his attention to his own pup.

he soaks up the sight. johnny's face streaked in tears, chest panting and body covered in sweat. simon reaches out to brush a tear away, kissing the hybrids forehead.

"too bad johnny. seems like she doesn't wanna play any more." he tuts, gripping johnny's jaw to force him to meet his eyes, "maybe if you apologise to me and price well enough, we'll let you fuck her thighs. her throat if you cry hard enough."

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Second Date

Was this chapter an excuse to also write biker!Simon? Maybe..

You stand by the counter of the bakery, cleaning the counter nervously as you wait. It was early, 5AM, and you were exhausted. You'd been up all night following a date with Simon. The two of you had just talked, more than you ever had previously. He’d even opened up and showed you his face. 

A bark from the front door makes you look up. Simon is standing there with Riley. You can’t stop yourself from smiling at him. You hurry over, unlocking the door for him. 

“Good morning!” you chirp, suddenly no longer tired. 

Simon smiles down at you, his brown eyes soft as they crinkle behind his mask. “S’morning,” he says. “Y’look good.” His compliment turns your cheeks pink. 

“Ah! Thank you! So do you,” you say, stepping back so he and Riley could enter. “I was thinking, there’s a break room. Maybe we could eat breakfast back there.”

Simon’s expression turns to surprise. “Is that alright?” he asks. “Shouldn’t you be up front here?”

You quickly wave off his concern. “It’s alright,” you say. “The bakery doesn’t open for a little while yet anyway. Besides, the bakers can always wrap up orders if I’m not up here for a few minutes.” You point him towards the open door behind the counter. “I’ll grab us something and be right there.”

Simon nods and walks to the breakroom, settling himself into one of the too-small folding chairs. You appear a few moments later with a pair of croissants and a couple dog treats. You close the breakroom door behind you and sit across from Simon. He only hesitates for a moment before taking off his mask and eating.

“I had a really good time yesterday,” you say. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to do that again sometime.”

“Yes,” Simon answers, far quicker than he’d meant to, making you giggle. 

“I guess you had fun too then,” you tease. “Did you want to get coffee again? Or should we do something else?”

Simon is quiet for a moment. “How do you feel about motorbikes?” he asks. 

“I’ve never been on one,” you say. “I didn’t know you rode one.” 

“On occasion,” he says. “We could take a ride up the mountain to see the sunset. If you want to.”

You watch him. You’d always thought Simon was the serious and confident type, but he was just as unsure of himself as you were of yourself. It made him far more human in your eyes. 

“I’d love to,” you say smiling, watching the way the tension in his shoulders melt. “Are you free tonight? We can meet up after I get off.”

“I’ll talk to the chief,” Simon says.

---

A few hours later, you’re locking up the bakery door. Behind you there’s a great rumbling of an engine. You turn to see a massive man on the back of a motorcycle, his helmet obscuring his face. 

“Simon?” you call out over the roar of the bike. He’s not dressed in the usual jeans and t-shirt you’re used to. Instead he’s in a black leather jacket and pants. His helmet matches his mask, a skull printed over the front of it and a pair of leather gloves with skeleton fingers on the backs. He flips the visor on the helmet up, letting you see his eyes as he reaches back and holds out another helmet for you. 

You hurry over and he helps you put the helmet on then onto the back of the motorbike. 

“Hold on tight Little Bird,” he chuckles, giving you a moment to wrap your arms around his waist before he takes off. 

At first it’s a little startling to watch the street fly past you without the safety of a car around you, but Simon knows what he’s doing as he expertly speeds out of town and towards the forested mountain. 

The ride is peaceful once you get out of town, only a couple cars passing you as they travel off the mountain. Simon drives the two of you up the mountain, glancing over his shoulder now and again to make sure you’re alright. You finally come to a stop at a little picnic area. Simon parks the bike and helps you down before hopping off himself. 

By now the sun is just starting to set. It’s colder up on the mountain, making you shiver for only a moment before Simon’s jacket is wrapped around your shoulders. Your face feels hot as you mumble a thank you. The two of you sit on a bench to watch the sunset, Simon’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close. 

“It’s beautiful out here..” you whisper. 

“You are…”

You turn quickly to look at him only to find his face just a few inches from your own, so close. He breathes your name. 

“Can I..”

“Yes..”

Simon pulls his mask down and his lips meet yours. They’re as soft as the kiss is. Gentle and wanting and all too short. Your heart is pounding and your head is spinning before you notice him standing. 

“I should get you home,” he says, pulling his helmet back on. 

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

@din0o0o  @waves-against-a-cliff  @mismatchsposts  @whos-fran  @emelie-s-h @midnights-song   @slodr4wzstuff   @shiity1   @reaper-chan666   @smitten-haematite-quartz   @kariiiel   @misshoneypaper   @nothankyew   @meganovich   @ghostlythots   @jasons-little-princess   @nunezr29   @hypersomniac000    @sheisabitchbicth   @chickennn-soupp   @yannauauau   @thebaileybugle   @phantomly27   @jeezkiddo   @meeb-meep   @darkangel4121   @infpt-zylith   @takashi-ig   @live-love-be-unique   @lilpothoscuttings   @juniperbaies   @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction   @mastertothepieces   @cringeycookies   @xxravenxstarxx-blog   @km-ffluv   @nic-stars   @plk-18   @undercover-smutlover @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @sunflowervase @ah-blossom @yyiikes @goldenfoxe @sobbingnshtting @mayorjack @tumbleweedbee

[ghouljams]

*Slides into the ask box*

Brief question here for you today, but did Ghost decide to ask Price's permission to marry Goose? I can see him wanting to do everything by the book and traditionally, but I can also see him respecting that Goose is her own woman and can make that decision for herself.

Ghost did ask permission in his own way! I like to think it was more important to Ghost than Goose to get the captain’s permission. For Ghost, Price is not just his captain, he's as close to a father figure as he can get, and past that Price is the person that dragged him back from the edge every time he walked too close. And, well, I'll just let you read it.

“You cannot be this scared of my daddy,” You cross your arms over your chest, watching Simon fuss with his boots by the door. He gives you a stern glare, and tugs his mask up to cover his face. You roll your eyes, “You served under him, isn’t this easier than tellin’ him a mission went sideways?”

Simon grunts, his way of saying he doesn’t want to talk about this. You’ll have to tell your dad eventually that you’re getting engaged, it’s not like he can find out at the wedding. Simon isn’t asking for your hand or anything, more getting your folks' blessing.

“That’ll do,” He grumbles and you throw your arms up. Christ you cannot be the one to tell your dad. As much as you think he’s warmed up to you and Simon dating you don’t think he’s exactly entertained the idea that Simon might become his son-in-law. If you tell your dad you’ll feel like you’re asking permission to marry Simon. That's not how you want to start your engagement. Simon catches your hand before you can start really working yourself up.

“This is important to me,” You tell him.

“I know,” His thumb rubs the back of your hand, soothing, “I’ll tell him.”

(Several months earlier)

“I’m gonna marry your daughter,” Ghost tells Price as they watch cattle file past. The sun is high in the sky, the horses are comfortably docile, and cicadas whirr loudly from the nearby trees. Price lowers his cigar between two careful fingers, eyes tracking the herd. He taps the ash against his boot to keep it away from the horse and off the grass. The air is still as both men seem to wait on the other.

“Goose know that?” Price asks finally. He knows as well as anyone that Ghost doesn’t make decisions lightly, and that once he does he isn’t likely to change his mind. More importantly he knows the man hardly thinks he’s worth being called human, let alone thinks about things like love and marriage.

“No,” Ghost tugs a cigarette box from his pocket and pulls one free with his teeth. Price sniffs, nudges his horse forward with his heels against its side, leaving Ghost to light his cigarette before he follows. It’s a beautiful day. The sort of day people paint when they don’t have a picture, clear blue skies and the wind rippling through the grass. Quiet too, y’know if you don’t count the bugs.

“So why’re you tellin’ me? Take it up with her.” Price spares him a glance as Ghost catches up, their horses meandering after the cows at a respectable distance. Ghost lowers his cigarette, exhaling smoke before pulling it back between his teeth.

“Because if you tell me not to, I won’t.” It’s the even honesty that makes Price pause. Ghost’s a good soldier, ruthless, efficient, fully tactically aware of his role as an instrument of violence. Some part of Price blames himself for that, for not doing enough to save Simon from compartmentalizing his humanity away after everything, for pushing Ghost to be the tool he needed him to be to take down the bad guys.

He doesn’t have to say anything more than that. If Price gives the order he’ll obey, even if it hurts you. Always a good soldier. He can’t do that to him, can’t do that to you. Not when he sees so much of himself in Ghost: the anger, the need for something(anything) to be right. That’s why he’d offered him a position at the farm in the first place.

“You’re a better man than you think you are Simon,” Price says finally, he powers through the questioning ‘Sir?’ from Ghost, “You make my girl happy, and if she heard you say that she’d tan your hide faster than any AQ could.”

“She would,” Ghost says with a touch of fondness in his tone.

“I trust her judgment, you just tell me if she says yes,” Price takes a long drag of his cigar, enjoying the fullness of smoke in his lungs before he lets it flow free with his exhale, “How’re the nightmares?”

Ghost is quiet for a long time, long enough Price wonders if he might’ve overstepped. There’s a long exhale, before Ghost answers. “Better with her.”

Price nods, “They always are.”

(Present)

“Goose said yes.” Ghost rolls a cigarette between his fingers, careful to compensate for the movement of the horse so he doesn’t lose the loose tobacco. Price sighs from his right. The wildflowers are starting to peak up through the grass. The ones the cows haven’t eaten are even blooming. Gaz is off corralling the cattle that’ve wandered too far from the herd, it’s a good time to talk if they want privacy.

“About damn time,” Price says after a moment, “Thought Goose was gonna drag your ass to the courthouse.”

“Sir?” Ghost looks up quickly from his work, his surprise nearly startling his horse.

"How long were you plannin' on pretendin' you weren't part of this family?" It's an honest question but it cuts deeper than Ghost had expected. Deep enough he doesn't fault Price the gentler tone he uses to ask it.

"Haven't even married 'er yet," Ghost grumbles.

"Know that's not what I'm talkin' about," Price leans back in his saddle, making himself as comfortable as he can watching the pasture, "'M proud of you son, don't make me hafta tell you that again."

Simon frowns to stop himself from making any other expression, and tugs his mask a little higher up his nose. It's a beautiful day, it would be a shame to ruin it by saying something stupid, or getting worked up over nothing.

[st-el-la-luna]

Thinking about @charliemwrites Charmed Slasher!Ghost

First of all:

Perfect Wife by Amigo the Devil

"And if I hurt you, please forgive me. Love makes you do funny things"

Music recommendations aside, let's crack in.

18+ Content. NSFW. AFAB reader you/your pronouns used. Mentions of mensurating, blood, period sex, oral (reader receiving), blood consumption

Charmed Slasher Ghost who, for one reason or another, has a nose like a bloodhound. Can smell the change in your hormones in the days leading up to your period. Can smell your blood. And oh, fuck, does he want more of it. More. More. More. More. More.

Will throw out or hide your medications, break your heating pads, get rid of the caps for your hot water bottle, leaving you with nothing. He listens to you whine and complain for a while before, casually:

"You know, I've heard an orgasm can help with that."

While a part of him wants nothing more than to take you right there, he waits. He wants you to come to him. Wants to see you all sad and pathetic. Pupils blown, cheeks burning, lips parted with laboured breaths, pouting, eyes watering, voice trembling with shame and desperation as you ask him to please please please help.

He's not going to make it that easy for you though.

"Don't you have toys sweet thing? Don't you have fingers?"

Simon's been watching though. He knows. Knows that you can't cum, not on your own. Knows your fingers can't reach those places that make you see stars and your toys just can't give you that final push over the edge.

He wants to hear you say it though. Wants you to tell him that you need him. Wants you to beg.

And you do.

It doesn't take long. In fact, it happens so quickly you almost get whiplash. In one moment, you're in the kitchen pleading with Simon, tears in your eyes.

The next, well... There are still tears in your eyes. Just for a different reason.

Blood soaked panties torn off, Simon wastes no time pushing two thick fingers inside. It's tight. It's warm. It's wet. When he pulls his fingers back, they're coated in red.

You whine at the loss and he doesn't disappoint, touching you in ways you've never been touched before. Fingers curling inside you, abusing this spongy spot that has your back arching, thumb rubbing against your clit so harsh it's almost cruel.

Your head is thrown back, eyes shut, slack jawed. You can't remember the last time you felt this good.

"How's that sweetheart? That feel good?" he croons, his eyes almost overtaken by the black of your pupils.

He leans in to your inner thighs, wet with arousal, spit and blood. His tongue lolls out.

Your eyes go wide. You reach down to grab at his hair, trying to pull him away. "Wait, I—"

He growls. Literally growls, his eyes dark.

"Thought you wanted help... You didn't expect me to do this for nothing, did you?" He asks lowly. His free hand goes from grabbing at your hips and massaging the fat of your ass, to holding your wrists in a vice like grip.

He lowers himself again, still working his fingers. His breath is hot and warm against sensitive skin. His eyes flutter. He lets out something between a sigh and a moan, inhaling the smell of your blood.

Is he...?

He is.

You realise, eyes widening, jaw going slack, from both shock and the way he's curling his fingers inside you, abusing your sensitive spots. He's actually drooling.

He groans, then dives in, flattening his tongue against your thigh and licking a long stripe, gathering your blood and arousal on his tongue. His eyelashes flutter. His eyes roll back. His hips buck against empty air.

"So fucking good..." He grumbles as he slips a third finger in, licking and biting at the meat of your thighs. "Taste so fucking good."

He works you to not one but three orgasms. Once on his fingers, once on his tongue and once on his cock. Until you're fucked out and sated, boneless.

He brings his fingers down, gathers up a heaping portion of his cum and your blood from between your legs, then brings his fingers to your lips.

"Open wide, sweetheart."

Please reblog to support my writing!

Masterlist

[xmalereader]

Simon Riley X Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

Authors Note: Here is my first Simon “ghost” Riley shot! Now, I didn’t play this game but do have some knowledge of it…since I did research on his character and everything like that but either way, hope you enjoy and sorry that it’s short!

Summary: Simon is finally at peace and trying to move forward with his life without thinking about death and war. He moves to a new town where he visits a bakery owned by a very persuasive owner.

Warnings: Fluff, domestic ghost, Simon Riley, change of views, reader is a dilf, single parent, mention of abuse, past abuse, slight flirting, bakery AU, Ghost deserves a break.

Word count: 2.2k

-

-

Simon had lived his life in fear.

Fear of his own father and fear of his own future. When he joined the task force 141, he didn’t think that he’d accept his teammates as close friends, people that he grew protective whenever they were in missions together. His bond with Jonny deepened during their time together, allowing himself to open up a little whenever he was around the other or whenever they had time. After spending majority of his life in the special forces he didn’t think that he’d finally give himself a break. To sit down and relax, not having to worry about the bloodshed and the worry of losing anyone else.

When he first made the decision of giving himself a break and returning back home he has grown restless and uncomfortable by the sudden change. He didn’t see himself having a domestic life, used to the violence and death that surrounded him. He was still cautious whenever he walked the streets, head low and face hidden. No matter how many times he told himself that he was free to remove his mask he couldn’t find it in himself to do so. He insisted on keeping his face covered, hiding from the public’s eyes until he felt comfortable at the new adjustment in his life.

He first started with his new place, settling in and making the place comfortable and to his liking, after he created his own routine. Giving himself time to adjust to the new changes of his life, having no plans to return back to the task force. If he was ever told that he was needed back he wouldn’t hesitate to do so, but deep down inside he knew that he deserved this break and that they’ll have to rely on someone else’s help.

During his time back, he’d given himself the opportunity to roam the area. Spotting a few families here and there, minding their own business as he walks down the street. He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings until he reached the end of the road, going around the corner to come face to face with a small ship, tucked away. He takes notice of the empty shop even though it was clearly open, allowing the public to enter whenever they please. Simon doesn’t know what lures him into the shop but upon entering he’s hit with the strong scent of yeast and coffee beans, even though his mask he’s able to smell the mixture of both scents.

He’s standing in the empty shop, eyes roaming the place as he takes in the interior of the place before his eyes land on a young man, his back facing him as he hums softly to himself. The shops music plays in the background, soft piano keys playing as the man behind the counter sways side to side, focusing on their own task, clearly not taking notice of their new customer. Simon doesn’t wish to interrupt and decides to sit in one of the empty tables, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at the man every few minutes before turning his gaze out the window, watching the world go by.

It wasn’t until a cup of tea is set in front of him, snapping his attention towards the man who was standing behind the counter now standing next to him, silently serving him some tea. Their own eyes focused on the warm liquid being poured into the small cup, soft smile on his lips as he holds the kettle up and away once he finished pouring the tea.

“I didn’t order tea.”

The young man shifts their gaze towards Simon, looking into his brown eyes as they smiled. “I know.” He simply says, stepping away from the table. “It’s on the house.” He adds before leaving Simon on his own and continuing on with their own business, returning behind the counter as he cleaned up the counter and focused on completing the bread he was baking. The man didn’t cower away in fear like most people would, instead he served Simon a drink, gave him a soft smile and returned back to his own tasks.

Simon didn’t say a word after their small interaction, watching him in silence as the man behind the counter finishes with their baking, placing trays of bread and cookies inside an oven as he sets a timer and cleans up the counter in the meantime. Simon doesn’t touch the tea nor does he drink it, not comfortable enough to remove his mask or to at least lift it up in order to take a small sip. He didn’t know why the man was being kind with him or what his motive was. He stares at the warm cup of tea in front of him, frowning under his mask as he stares at his own reflection. Before he could reach out and touch the warm cup, the door to the shop is shoved open.

A teen rushing inside as they apologize frantically to the older man who can only smile and provide them reassurance. Simon doesn’t stay long and is standing from his seat and leaving the shop before its crawling with people. When he arrives back to his place he grows curious of the place and does some research, finding out that the owner of the bakery was the same man who served him tea. The bakery was popular around the area and many came to visit during certain hours of the day, Simon doesn’t return back to the bakery until a week later.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun was slowly setting and the streets were slowly dying down. People were making their way back home from work or visiting friends and eating out together. When Simon entered the bakery he expected the place to be empty, ready to clean up and close for the night. Instead the tables near the windows were full with teenagers who have finished their classes for the day, sitting and drinking their coffees along with eating the pastries that the bakery provided them. Simon huffs to himself, shifting his gaze towards an empty spot near the far corner of the shop. He makes his way towards the table and takes a seat.

It doesn’t take long for a teen wearing an apron to approach him. “Welcome, would you like something to drink? Something for the cold weather?” He asks, hands behind his back as he stares down at Simon. The older man clears his throat, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll have some tea.” He answers.

“Anything else?” The teen questions.

Before Simon could say anything else he hears the door behind the counter open, revealing the same man from a few days back exiting the back with a tray of cookies in hand. He stood tall, wearing a brown turtle neck with a black apron around his waist as he focused on restocking the cookies behind the counter, smiling softly to himself, unknown by the eyes staring at him. It wasn’t long until the teen leans over to cover Simons view of the man. The teen frowns at him and raises a brow. “No offense but, please stop staring at my dad.”

This gets Simons attention. “He’s your dad?” He questions, looking over the teens shoulder to give the other man behind the counter a quick look before looking back at the teen. “A bit young to be a father.”

“Adopted—not that it’s your business. But I’ll get you your tea.” The teens voice is full of venom, causing Simon to snicker at his attitude as he watched him walk away. He watched as the teenager grumbled to the other man, whispering harshly to him but the other man stays quiet and listens intently, letting the teenager ramble on as they worked together.

“Fuckin’ stupid machine—!”

“That’s enough.” Y/n frowns, turning to face his son as he snatched the kettle from his hands. “You’ll break the machine and if you break it. I will remove the pat from your check.”

“You can’t do that!”

“My bakery my rules.” Y/n points a finger at him in warning, getting a pout from the teen as Y/n focused on making the tea. The two are quiet for a few minutes until the teenager breaks the silence. “He’s back.” He whispered, nodding towards the corner where Simon sat on his own. Y/n doesn’t look up or pay much attention. “And? He’s a customer and we do our job. If he scares you then suck it up.” He grins, finishing up the tea and handing him the drink. “If you are scared I can take it to him.”

“No way, he sounds like an asshole and wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Really?” This gets his attention, finally looking over his shoulder to stare at Simon. The masked man stared back at him, his brown eyes staring deep into his own as he blushed softly before looking away. “Well—“ he clears his throat, taking the tea with him. “Why don’t I introduce myself?” He smirks.

His son groans. “Please don’t flirt.” He pleads while watching him walk away with tea in hand and approaching Simon. “Didn’t think I’d see you here again.” He admits, setting the cup in front of Simon as the other hums in response. “I could say the same.”

Y/n chuckles. “Oh! I also want to apologize for my sons behavior—didn’t think I could hear him when the place is very small.” He let’s him know, not wanting to offend or upset the other man from his sons attitude or perhaps sarcastic wits. “He speaks his mind sometimes and it can get some people upset by what he says.”

“Nothing he said offended me—he was just keeping an eye out for his father. Which I think is far too young to be one.” Simons finger grazed over the rim of the cup, tapping his point finger against the handle and having a feel of the warm cup in hand. “Are you—?”

“His father? Yes, by blood? No. But I don’t see him any less.” Y/n responds back with a smile. “I adopted him at a young age, single parenting isn’t easy but the poor kid had a rough life. Lived in the streets at a very young age, parents weren’t so great.” He mumbled, eyes full of sorrow as he remembers the first time he found the kid alone in the streets, holding a worn out blanket and wrapping it around his shivering body. He sat outside his bakery during earlier hours, y/n always gave him a warm meal without making the kid pay anything. He’d grown used to the kid visiting him everyday that when he suddenly went missing he grew worried and anxious, even though the kid wasn’t his he still saw him as family.

Y/n later found out that the kid was living in a abusive home, both parents not caring for the child as they threw him out and forced him to live in the cold weather. The baker didn’t hesitate to make things right, getting the proper people involved and finally taking the kid under his wing, adopting the kid from his abusive family and giving him the home and love that he needed. Even though his son was protective he was still a kid at heart who was healing from his past. He shakes the memory away and provides a soft smile to the other. “Besides, he’s a great kid.”

Simon was staring at him, smiling softly under his own mask as he agrees. “I bet he is.” He muffled out, taking in the other man’s warm presence. He didn’t think that someone so young would own a bakery, let alone one not too far away from where he lived now. “What’s your name?” He finally asks.

“Y/n and your’s—if I may?” Y/n raises a brow with a grin on his face.

Simon opens and closes his mouth, not comfortable enough to reveal his name and decides to stick with his code name. “Ghost.”

“Ghost?” Y/n repeats the name, chuckling to himself and decides not to question it. “Very well, ghost. It’s nice to meet you. I wish I could stay and continue our conversation but classes end in ten minutes and the place will be packed with university students.” He checks the watch on his wrist, taking notice of the time. He’d have to finish up the rest of the cookies if he is too sell them all today and perhaps give a few freebies if the students get lucky enough.

“At this hour?” Simon didn’t think that students would still be in class at such a late hour. “You’d be surprised.” Y/n’s place was always packed during this hour due to students leaving class with empty stomachs and finding their way to the bakery or to find a comfortable and warm place to study. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. It was nice meeting you, hope we met again.” He gives Simon a nod before rushing towards the back.

Simon watched him disappear in the back, chuckling softly and turning his gaze towards the cup of tea that Y/n provided for him. Simon wasn’t one to stay in one place for too long, but perhaps he’d give this town a chance and continue visiting the bakery.

[rowarn]

ball worship, oral, whiny!simon, multiple orgasms from the man himself, idk its filth, MDNI

the sight of you on your knees always seemed to do something to simon. the way you looked up at him with wide, eager eyes with your lashes fluttering any time he reached out to touch you. when his fingers brushed over your hair and his palm cupped your cheek, you nuzzled into his touch. 

he knew how in love with him you were, he could see it in your eyes. he could see it in the way you so easily got on your knees for him. 

he was lucky to have someone who loved him as much as he loved you. although, he would always maintain that he loved you more. 

his thumb brushed over your lips and you puckered them to give the pad of the digit a sweet kiss before eagerly opening your mouth to let it in. he pressed down on your tongue and relished in the feeling of you happily sucking at his thumb. 

his cock twitched in his pants in interest at the idea of having that warm, wet mouth wrapped around him. but he had other plans tonight. 

it all stemmed from a night when you were sucking him off that you loved his balls; how heavy and firm they were before he came. it made you wet to think about how full of cum they were for you. he had busted a load right in your hand when you'd said that. 

and now he was ready to put to the test just how much you loved them. 

when he reached down to unbuckle his belt, he could see the way your eyes lit up in glee. so sweet for him. 

he opened his jeans and reached in to pull his cock free, giving himself a few firm tugs until he fully hardened in his own grip. it slapped against his stomach, staining his black t-shirt with his pre but he was too preoccupied with pulling his pants down completely to notice. when his jeans reached his knees, you kindly helped him tug them all the way down and off of his feet before shoving them out of the way. 

simon let his legs spread wide in front of you, completely unashamed to be so exposed to you. your gaze raked down his body, licking your lips when you finally landed on his twitching cock against his stomach. 

"c'mere," he cooed, cupping the back of your head to urge you closer. you scooted on your knees until you were situated cutely between his large thighs. you leaned over and pressed a sweet kiss against his thigh, trailing your lips up to kiss his hip before pushing his shirt up just a bit to kiss the scar over his ribs. you finally reached his cock, kissing down the vein on the underside before backing off, waiting his next instructions. 

his hand wrapped around his cock and you watched with rapt attention as he slowly stroked himself. his own hand felt nothing like your softer, smaller one but the feeling of your mouth on his balls was surely going to make up for it. 

"want you here, love,'' he pulled your head close until your lips pressed against his balls. 

you whimpered at the smell of him; warm skin and the faint hint of his bodywash. you got the hint and let your mouth fall open, mouthing at the soft skin of his balls, kissing them both. he sighed, relaxing into the cushions of the couch, squeezing the base of his cock at the feeling. 

your tongue slipped out, licking the seam between his balls before opening your mouth and taking one into your mouth. 

simon fucking moaned. 

"oh fuck," he sounded so whiny. it made your clit throb in your panties. 

sure, simon was vocal but never whiny. he never whimpered. 

not like he was now, with your mouth wrapped around one of his heavy balls and your tongue swirling over the soft skin. you never thought he's be so sensitive here. 

his whole body twitched, thighs trembling around you when you switched to give the other one the same attention. his hand began to move again, jerking himself off to the feeling of you worshipping his balls. 

his eyes opened, pretty browns glassy with pleasure. he watched how full your mouth looked, the drool dripping down your chin and to your chest. you were getting so messy for him, making a mess all because you had your mouth stuffed full of his heavy, fat balls. 

his back arched, and his hand trembled around his length the faster he stroked. 

all too soon, he felt his orgasm approaching. he wondered if you could feel the way his balls tightened, how firm they got in your mouth. 

you couldn't resist grinding down, rutting your hips against your panties in search of something more. simon whimpered at the sight of you desperately humping nothing. you were probably so wet, dripping into your cute little panties, making them sticky and sheer. when this was over he was going to shove his hand down them and stuff you full of your fingers and let you fuck yourself stupid on them until his hand was creamed up nice and good. 

his eyes fluttered, unable to keep them open as his orgasm washed over him. his head fell back against the couch and he moaned, expletives and gasps escaping his lips. his cum splattered over his shirt and chest but he couldn't stop stroking himself, even when he felt his orgasm fading. 

his hand continued to move and you dutifully kept your mouth wrapped around his balls, switching between them to give them equal pleasure as they pulsed in your mouth. 

his hand worked faster and faster until he cried out again, another orgasm washing over him. his cum didn't shoot out this time, instead a slow drool from the tip over his fingers and down his balls to meet your mouth. you eagerly licked the cum off of them, panting and breathless from the show simon had given you, milking two orgasms from himself like that. 

when he finally released his cock, letting it flag against his stomach as it slowly softened, he finally opened his eyes. you saw the way his adams apple bobbed when he saw that his cum had also painted your face. 

you rested your head against his thigh, looking dreamily up at him as if he had hung the moon and the stars in the sky himself. 

"si..." you whispered, sounding shaky and soft. 

"hm?" he responded, brain unable to conjure anything else.

"'m rlly wet...'" you confessed, making his eyes roll as he groaned.

"'course you are,'" he chuckled, patting his lap, "get up here. we'll see what we can do about that, yea?"

thank u that is all mwah <3

[hyperactively-me]

okay okay okay, i know you get sooo many asks for king!ghost/princess!reader au, and we love them all and eat them all up--so i understand if you never answer this one... But i've always wondered, esp after he gifted reader his knife, what the heck was simon doing in the hall, cleaning his knife *that* night. Like I think about it often, was he going to talk to her (lil scandalous in the middle of the night)? Did he happen to be walking around and see her? Was he making sure she was okay? Was he feeling bad because he knows what it's like to have your family ripped away and although it is for the better, he feels remorseful for the reader? I mean, obviously reader felt someone watching her, how close was he??? Watching her be free and open in her lil sanctuary (thinking about how she'd have to find that in his kingdom/castle)? I NEED ANSWERS LOL

king!ghost x reader -- knife explained (flashback to the first couple of chapters, specifically "knife"; written in Ghost's POV) hopefully this answers your question 😉

It’s been a sleepless night. He couldn’t sleep. The woman betrothed to him was a complete and utter mystery. He had never seen anything like you, the way you so openly displayed your disdain and disgust to him. 

Yes, he knew that he was not very well-liked outside of his own kingdom. But, this is a woman who is supposed to be his wife. He recalls the fire in your eyes, the unwavering determination that matched the contempt in your voice. It was a stark contrast to the delicate and obedient bride he had envisioned you would be. What a spoiled little princess you turned out to be. 

And, he didn’t mean to be intimidating on purpose, that’s just how he carries himself outwardly. He was accustomed to commanding respect and obedience, even if it was born out of fear, no matter who the person. But, you were different. You had risen up against him because of your fear, and unashamedly at that. 

It kept him wide awake, the way your face twisted into a frown every time he stepped into a room, or the way you turned up your nose when he tried to speak to you. He thinks back to the dinner earlier that night, the way your knuckles were white as you gripped your dinner knife, fork stabbing into the innocent food being served. He had to bite back the urge to laugh; laugh at the thought of you being difficult on purpose. Until, it had finally hit him, that you were acting like this on purpose. It wasn’t just a ruse, your defiance, and fear, was quite real. You were not the stereotypical demure bride.

He shifts in his bed once again, staring at the ceiling, and he finds himself drawn to the challenge you presented. It was as if you held the key to a mystery he couldn’t resist unlocking. A woman who dared to challenge him was a rarity, and the prospect both unsettled and fascinated him. He couldn’t dismiss the fact that you had piqued his curiosity in a way that no one else ever had.

Ghost finds himself torn between frustration and intrigue. He never saw himself fit to be a husband, yet here he was. The usual tactics that had subdued others seemed to have no effect on you. Instead, it fueled your defiance, making you even more resistant to his authority. He should’ve known that you were going to put up a fight in the first place. Yes, he knew that noble women were trained to be blushing brides, but the mere thought that you had to give up your life in your home kingdom as you know it for a man you’ve never met, and a man known for wars and bloodshed at that? Who was he kidding?

Of course you would despise him from ripping you away from your family, from the comfort of your home. Hell, he went through a similar situation with his own family. The mere notion that he was inflicting the same things he went through on you made his stomach churn. He needed to get up. 

With that, Ghost shudders, rising from his bed, needing to clear his mind. He pulls on a pair of black pants and a black tunic alongside his balaclava, grabs his knife, and slips out of the guest room. The castle is shrouded in silence as Ghost moves through its dimly lit corridors. His mind races with thoughts of you, the enigmatic woman who now shared his fate. The air is deathly still and the moon hangs high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the castle grounds.

Ghost happens upon the hallway that leads to the garden. He notices the wooden doors are slightly ajar, pricking his instinctive protective senses. Immediately, he makes his way over to the door, reaching out to grab the handle. Before he can step outside, he hears a rustling of fabric and looks straight through the crack.

There you were, in all your glory, standing outside in the garden, a robe wrapped tightly around your frame. Ghost hesitates for a moment, torn between retreating unnoticed and going outside and confronting you. The moonlight accentuates the curves of your silhouette, and he can’t help but be captivated by the vulnerability you’re displaying outside, a stark contrast with the defiance he had grown accustomed to. 

He leans against the doorframe, his presence still concealed in the shadows. It’s like you were a different person, the way your hand gently caresses flower petals as you stroll, the gentle breeze playing with your hair. There’s a rawness in your gaze, a depth of emotion that intrigues him more than he’d like to admit. 

For a bit, Ghost remains hidden, an unseen observer of the woman who challenges every preconceived notion he had about his future wife. As if suddenly snapped out of his trance, he takes a few steps back, feeling as though he’s intruding on something personal. Ghost feels guilty for watching you so… calm in your garden. 

He retreats, his footsteps carrying him away and down another hallway, the faint moonlight filtering through narrow windows his only guide. With a deep breath, he comes across a rather comfortable looking chair sitting in the hallway; one that’s surely only used as a mere decoration. Regardless, he sits down and pulls his knife out. 

He twists it in his grip a few times, admiring the way it looks in his hands. He brings it closer to his face, inspecting the blade with scrutiny, until he notices a few smudges on it. 

Can’t have that, can we? He thinks to himself. 

The blade, a symbol of his title and the harsh realities of the life he leads, demands his attention. He meticulously cleans the smudges from the weapon, treating the knife as though it’s a holy item. Ghost’s hands move with a practiced precision, the rhythmic sound of the cleaning echoing in the silent corridor. The blade, once tarnished, now reflects the faint moonlight streaming through the windows, a gleaming testament to Ghost’s meticulous care. He wonders if you’ve ever had to wield a weapon before. Most likely, no. He would change that, once he trusted you more. Couldn’t give a combative person a knife now, can we? I’ll give you more time. But, I don’t doubt for a moment that you wouldn’t be able to carry such a thing in your pretty little hands. 

Suddenly, a rustling of fabric pricks his ears. He immediately stands from his seat, the legs of the chair scraping across the floor. He knows it's you. 

No use in you running now, he thinks. 

“What’re you doin’?” he calls out, knowing damn well that you’re most likely going to lash out again. 

He watches you as you slowly turn around, fear etched into your face. A change from your usual frown and furrowed brows. Ghost can see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, the robe clutched tightly around you as if it were a shield. You take multiple steps back as your eyes flit down to the knife in his hand. He knows he must look intimidating right now, dressed in all black and a skull balaclava concealing his features, wielding a hefty looking knife. Yet, how soft you looked mere moments ago, your lips parting so prettily as your eyes rest on his figure. 

“What are you doing?” you motion to the knife in his hand. 

He swivels his head down at the knife in his hand, a faint smirk playing on his lips. You can’t see it, thanks to the balaclava. How predictable, of course you were going to point that out. Without hesitation, he takes the knife and flips in his hand before sheathing it in his pants pocket. 

He watches you wince at the sudden movement, a flash of guilt courses through his veins for a moment. But he remembers that he can’t have you thinking that walking over him like you do now is acceptable. 

“Thinkin’,” he responds, voice gruff. You flash him a look of confusion, still wary of your position. Ghost takes a step forward, his silhouette partially illuminated by the moonlight spilling through a window. He watches you take a quick step back, suddenly hating the way you look so small. 

“What are you doin’?” he asks again, crossing his arms in front of his chest to act as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. He can see the wariness in your eyes, the way you stare at his muscles, the guarded stance, and it amuses him, even though he tries not to show it. 

“I don’t see how it's any of your business as to what I’m doing in my own home,” you retort, squeezing your robe tighter around your body. 

He takes a breath, a low chuckle escaping. But you’re right. He has no right to question what you’re doing in your own home. After all, he’s the one who’s a guest here, not the other way around. You have the right idea being wary of him, a monster of a man, being awake and roaming the palace halls at this hour of the night. But, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of protection for you. A woman alone at this hour of the night? 

He brushes off those thoughts, not wanting to let you win. Yet, he also wants to answer a small question he has. Would you back down? Now, at first, when he thought he would be receiving a blushing bride, he was going to treat her as kind as he possibly could. But now that his “blushing bride” is a noncompliant, fiery woman, he wants to make sure of another thing. That you would have the ability to stand up for yourself even in moments of pressure, especially in moments of pressure from him. 

“Listen here, sweetheart,” he says with another hidden smirk.

“I’m not tryin’ to pry, but you've been actin’ a certain way ever since I’ve arrived. I don’t appreciate it,” he states plainly, shifting slightly. 

He doesn’t miss the glare you throw at him, fingernails clutching into your robe tightly. How he wishes those fingernails would be buried in his back. 

“Well, you can mind your own business. I don't need your so-called ‘concern.’ Why do you think I’m acting this way?”

A really good fuckin’ question with an equally obvious answer, is what he wants to say. 

But he refuses to answer, pride welling up inside of him. Ghost takes a cursory glance at you again, noting the way you’re almost curled into yourself. You’re afraid of him. He couldn’t shake the image of you standing beneath the willow tree, how carefree and soft you looked then. 

Without thought, Ghost takes a step towards you again, but this time, you don’t move. How intriguing. He takes another step, waiting for you to give in, back down from whatever you’re thinking about right now. He takes another step, giving you another chance to move, a chance to show him that you're not willing to back down. How perfect. Put me in my place, this is what I deserve, he thinks. 

Ghost is now mere inches away, and you still haven’t moved. Good princess. 

Your neck is craned up to look at him, disdain written on your face.

He reaches his fingers up to your cheek, the pads of his fingers just barely ghosting over your skin as he makes his way to push stray strands of hair behind your ear. And the most surprising part of it all is that you let him. Now, he thinks he’s misjudged you. A spoiled princess? No. A woman who knows how to stand her ground. 

He can see you go as stiff as a board under his touch, your chest heaving as your heart rate picks up. He can see the pulse in your neck clearly. His eyes flit towards your bosom for a split moment, then he pulls his hand away. 

“Hmm,” he hums, a glint in his eyes. Interesting. 

And, without a word, he makes his way down the hallway silently, heading in no particular direction. He can feel your eyes boring into his back, and he feels a flash of pride, secretly hoping his stature impresses you. I know it does. 

At the end of the day, he doesn’t aim to break you; he just wants to figure you out. You’ll both be officially bound together in the next few days when he finally proposes to you, whether you like it or not. He can’t deny the conflict within himself — the desire to unravel you clashes with the knowledge that he’s pushing the boundaries. All these contradictions, and you’re driving him crazy. Why does he want to kiss you and fight you at the same time? 

He pulls the knife back out from his pocket, studying the reflection of his eyes in the blade. He wants to get to know the woman he had seen out in the garden. 

Time will tell.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[awesome-opossum-after-hours]

AT au where instead of Betty, it's actually FINN who sacrifices himself and makes the wish with the crown.

I've seen some au's about Simon doing this, but we're forgetting the secret third option I guess?

now obviously, the loss of Finn will have an impact on most, if not all of the citizens of Ooo. but I'd like to think that Finn's intention is to make this wish, not just for the safety of one person, but to keep all of Ooo safe and free from any more chaos. I've seen some shows where the hero "dies" on the end (though in this case, there'd be the idea that he IS still conscious and able to watch over everyone), and honestly it can be a great ending if played right.

here's how it would go down: Finn, Simon, and Betty are being digested by Golb. they're at the point where Betty and Simon have both returned to their sane, pre-Mushroom War selves and are having their reunion. Finn notices that the crown has reset, and also taking notice that he's not being "digested" because he hasn't changed all that much. he realizes that he has the chance to make a wish, make a true difference in Ooo and ensure the peace and safety of all his friends, something that he's clearly wanted through the whole series. he sees how happy Betty and Simon are now that they're reunited, and begins to put on the crown. when the tunnel opens up, he tells Betty and Simon to leave. he gives them some brief things to tell his friends and family on his behalf. he also tells them to finally get married, and to go on with their lives together. (I'd like to think he also, in Finn fashion, jokingly tells them to name their first kid after him :) )

after some coaxing, and tears, they finally give in and leave Golb. Finn makes his wish, which is "I wish for the power to keep Ooo safe", and merges with Golb in the same style Betry did (idk what he'd be called- maybe "Golbfinn"? a silly name kinda like goldfish lol). Jake would be torn, but I feel like he would also be a bit proud of Finn after a bit of grieving. as Finn said in the episode before (in canon), he used to be all about violence. and now, he's keeping the peace.

Gunther still gets the crown in this universe bc that's just funny

in the little Come Along With Me montage, we'd see the other characters rebuilding the tree house, along with the rest of Ooo that had gotten destroyed. I think they would start to worship Finn actually, he would become the hero that everyone would tell stories about, the stuff of legends. we'd also get to see the Petrigrof wedding! it also flashes forward to about a year or so later, we see that they do, in fact have a kid. a little girl named Fionna, who grows into her namesake and becomes hero- material herself.

:)

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Prompt: 15: Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean.

Character: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Fandom: Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare ii

Warnings: soft sex, teasing, lots of after care, cock warming.

A/n: I apologize if this sucks

Simon used to hate Christmas, hate the Holidays. He tends to bury himself in his work, on missions but that seemed to change when he meet you. A simple civilian that he ended up saving while on a mission, one of the hostages he saved during the events with Hassan. You were stubborn, demanding to see the man that saved your life and to stop Soap’s teasing he obliged your little wish.

But that one meeting lead to a date, which lead to taking your calls, reading your letters, to you finally dating the man. Simon was surprised how easy it was to fall for you, while you were kind you were still that stubborn woman he saved. He couldn’t even understand why you loved him. He knew he did not have the best personality, he could be cold and most people couldn’t handle his dry sense of humor but you did which is why he was going to ask you to marry him.

“Simon?”

Quickly snapping the ring case closed the man shoved it onto his pocket as he turned to face you. “Yes love.”

“Are you okay? You were jus-.”

“I’m fine.” He stated quickly then stepped close eyeing your festive sweater, the man hoped you were at least wearing a pair of shorts. He wasn’t going to be able to focus if this was going to be the only thing you were wearing.

Stepping close he placed his hand on your hips, and of course you were only wearing your panties. A small growl, his brown eyes darkening with lust as his fingers moving to your panties. “Such a naughty girl you are Y/n.”

“Whatever do you mean Simon.” You did your best to act innocent as your fingers trailed across his chest.

“I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” He muttered watching you pull away, a smile dancing on your lips as you laid down by the Christmas tree. 

“Are you going to do something about it then?” You hummed raising the sweater higher to show off more of your skin.

“Darlin, you will be screaming my name by the end of the night.” Ghost knelt down as he pinned you to the floor.

Rubbing your fingers through his brown hair you hummed keeping the smile on your face. “You look so sexy Simon. I hate that you have to cover up such a handsome face.”

A small chuckle escaped his lip as he nuzzled into your neck, his teeth grazing the skin. “Darlin…you and a handful of people that get to see my face.”

Rather pleased you pulled him in for a kiss, your leg wrapping around his hip feeling him straining against his jeans, his fingers slowly tugging your panties off your body. His finger brushing your slick entrance before he started to unbuckle his pants forgetting about the ring. Grabbing his dick, he slowly jerked himself off watching you bite your lip. “Simon…you can’t tease me like this.”

Shaking his head he then captured your lips in for another kiss as he slowly pushed into your warmth, your pussy stretching around his cock. The man groaning into your neck. The sweater you wore pushed up past your breasts as he started to thrust, his hand on your hips.

Letting his tongue glide over yours his free hand slowly messaged your breast. Sex with Simon was always different. Some nights it was passionate, rough, just holding you close. Other nights it was quick, right before he had to leave or the moment he got home from a mission having the need to just be in your arms.

But right now he was going to take his time, he was going to make sure you felt every thrust. Every touch and movement of his. Simon was going to make you a sobbing mess. Breaking the kiss kept his movement slow, his thumb slowly gliding around your nipple.

You whined turning your neck, giving Simon the chance to nip and suck at the skin.His names falling from your lips as your rose your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Simon.” Your fingers tugging his hair.

A growl escaped his lips, pulling his hips back, his cock slipping from your warmth. The tip of his cock teasing your entrance then thrusted back into your pussy.

Your teeth sinking in your lips, the twinkling of the lights from the Christmas tree seeing you make the scene more romantic.

Though a cry suddenly left your lips as you felt his thumb tease your clit. You could feel your orgasm getting closer to the edge though it took one thrust for him to hit your sweet spot, your organs testing through your body. Simons hands clutching your hips tightly to stop your body from spasming.

Simon nuzzled into your neck, the feeling of your walls clutching his cock pulled him closer to his own release. Your lips wrapping around his hips pulling him closer, deeper into your pussy and with one more thrust the man was cumming as he coated your walls. Your name leaving his lips as his thumb ran gentle circles around your hips.

Staying within you, Simon turned to his side as a whimper left your lips. He placed a kiss to the side of your head then grabbed your left hand kissing it gently.

“Do we have a reason why your dick is still in me?” You teased glancing at him over your shoulder which the man kissed.

“Feel to good to leave, gonna have to stay like this for awhile..don’t make the rules…sorry.” He muttered though you knew he was smiling.

Biting back a yawn you closed your eyes as he let his thumb run over your ring finger. “Y/n….marry me?”

“What?” You gasped though his hand kept your hips in place.

“Don’t move, I have a ring in my pants pocket…but please give me an answer.” He whispered in your ear, you never expected him to sound so desperate.

Feeling tears spring to your eyes you grabbed his hand kissing it. “Yes Simon, I’ll marry you.”

Relaxing, he let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you Y/n, thank you.”