hii, saw you wanted asks for simon <3 could you maybe write something where the reader is a civilian and misses simon but cannot contact him. she has a horrible day everything goes wrong. (to the point where she doesn’t even notice his car in the driveway when she gets home). she’s overwhelmed, and it’s filled with fluff (and smut if you want!!)
₊˚✧ i miss you, i’m sorry — in which simon returns after being away for so long
simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader
warnings: 2k words, smut, fluff, a lil angsty curse words, porn with plot, unprotected sex, p in v, degrading, pet names (lovie), hand job, borderline obsessed!reader, borderline toxic!ghost
Watching Simon come and go became a routine for you. There was never an explanation, maybe he thought you didn't deserve one, or maybe there wasn’t time. He would leave for days, weeks, months at a time, always prefacing it with "I'll be back soon." The first few times you tried to call him, aching to hear his voice after long days but you were always met with the robotic woman telling you the call could not be completed.
You learned quickly there was no way to contact him during these mysterious vanishings. You theorized where Simon went late at night. Thinking he was a secret spy, or maybe he had a secret family. You hoped it wasn't the latter. As you lay on your back, blankets askew on your rather uncomfortable mattress, thoughts of Simon flood your brain, you wondered if Simon was doing the same.
You wondered if for each thought of him, he had a thought for you. When you thought of his hands on your waist did he think of your lips on his neck? As much as your conclusion pained you to think about, you can’t help but dream of him. Of his husky voice whispering teases and playful remarks into your ear. You had fallen hard, and you weren’t getting up anytime soon.
You knew this was a one-way ticket to disaster. He could never be what you need and deep down you both knew that. It didn’t stop you though, you didn’t think anything could stop you. You didn’t even know if he returned the intoxicating feelings you had for him. To him, you could just be the other woman, and part of you didn’t mind.
There was something about him that was so addicting. Was it his smile? Or his cologne? Or maybe it was his eyes that you loved looking into. You wondered if you had any features that he could obsess over. It’s strange, to have such strong feelings for someone you barely know.
Your shoulders hung low, your feet dragged on the ground, and your eyes were strained. You were tired, your nights that were supposed to be filled with sleep were only filled with fantasies. You turned your key in the door, turning it the wrong way at first, even though you could’ve sworn it was the right way. It took everything in you not to become upset. It amazed you how much power Simon had over your life when he wasn’t even around.
After taking a deep breath, you finally were able to unlock the door. You stepped inside, throwing your stuff onto a random side table that you got from a garage sale 3 years ago that you should really organize. You kick your shoes off, not bothering to place them into their spot, just leaving them in front of the door. You don’t even notice the second pair of shoes that are too big to be yours.
You walk further into the house, trying to make it to any surface to lie on, but instead of finding a couch or a bed, you find Simon standing with a cup of coffee in his hand. You're almost sure you’re hallucinating. “Miss me?” You don’t know what to do, should you hug him? Yell at him for drinking your coffee? Not even acknowledge him at all and just go to bed?
“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, afraid that if you were hallucinating, you didn’t want the neighbors to hear you talking to yourself. “Hey,” He matched your volume, then took another sip from the mug. Still, you didn’t move, you were sure he was real now but now the question was, how should you greet him? He took the final sip of coffee and then placed the mug on the coffee table.
“Aren’t you going to give me a hug?” He doesn’t look at you as he asks, and it almost sounds like he’s teasing you. He probably is, but you didn’t care. You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He chucked softly before returning the hug, only draping one arm around, being the other one up to pat your head.
You didn’t move from this position, though neither of you really mind it. The sun was starting to set but still, neither of you really mind it. You didn’t know what to say to him. You wanted to ask where he was, where he went for so long. But you knew you would only be answered with, “You know I can’t tell you.”
You did know, but you were still curious. “Where were you?” You whispered. “You know I can’t-” “I know.” You cut him off, sighing softly. He pats your head again, trying to apologize for not being able to tell you. Maybe one day he could, but for now you just basked in the moment of feeling his arms around you once again.
“You tired?” Was it that obvious? “A little.” He nodded even though you weren’t looking at him. “Are you going to fall asleep standin’ up?” He laughs, his chest rumbling, making you feel safe in his arms. “Maybe.” He shook his head, moving both of his hands to your butt before picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso, moving your head off his chest and finally looking him in the eyes.
You didn’t know if his feelings for you were gone after being away, or if they were ever there. He doesn’t say anything as you examine his face. ‘It’s definitely his eyes.’ You think, answering your own question from nights ago. You don’t think as you push your lips against his. You missed him far too much to not kiss him.
To your satisfaction, he kisses back, almost more eagerly than you. You smile, happiness warming your body, or maybe that was from Simon’s body being pressed so closely to yours. You pulled away from the kiss, going back to examine his face, mostly his eyes. “I missed you.” You whispered, biting your lip after the practically deafening sentence.
“I bet you did.” Again he matches your volume, and too prideful to admit he missed you too, but you know. You can see it in his eyes, and feel it in his words. You press your lips to his again, more eagerly, more passionately.
He returns the kiss once again, pushing your body closer to his. One of his hands slide from your ass, up your back, and land on the back of your neck. He squeezes it gently and suddenly you’re aware of how much you missed his subtle touches.
He walks forward, sitting on the couch and you’re quick to fix your position to straddle him. His hands move to your waist, rubbing small circles as you disconnect from the kiss and begin leaving small kisses on his neck. Your tinted lip balm staining his skin ever so slightly.
He sighs contently, loving the feeling of your soft lips on his neck. His hands slide under your shirt, his warm hands on your bare back. Maybe you didn’t know where or why he disappeared and left you high and dry for long periods of time, but it didn’t matter. He always made up for it by treating your body heavenly.
Without moving your lips away from his neck you lead a blind hand to his pants, fiddling with the zipper trying to undo them. “Someone’s eager.” Simon chuckles. He moves his hand towards his zipper, helping you pull it down when he notices you struggling, confirming he wants it just as badly as you do.
“Couldn’t stop thinking of you when you were gone.” You admit shamelessly, as he unbuttons his pants. You pull his boxers away from his skin, pulling out his semi-hard cock. You jerked him slowly as you left marks on his neck. He was enjoying how eager you were. It was sensual, you missed him so much, how could you not be?
"Is that so?" He whispered in your ear. His voice was raspy, it always was when he returned, raspier than usual at least. He was teasing you, finding pleasure and amusement in your admission. Had his lack of presence really had that much of an impact on you? The tiredness from your long day was easily being replaced with need. How long had it been this time? 3 months? 4 months? You lost count.
"Don't start that." Your lips tickle his neck with each word. You couldn't be bothered with his games, not this time. Not when you spent months awaiting his arrival. He was always different after each coming and going. It was always a slight change, but you never failed to notice it, no matter how hard you tried.
"Don't start what?" He smiled at you with a cocky grin displayed on his face. Your eyes gloss over his face, he had a new scar on his lip. You brushed your thumb over it. "How do you always get so many of these?" It was rhetorical. You knew he wouldn't tell you. He was covered in scars, each one having a story to be told, but Simon never did. He took your hand in his, lowering it from his face. "Don't start what, huh?" He was deflecting, per usual.
"Your games." He lets go of your hand, returning it to its place under your shirt. Your free hand was still jerking him, slowly but pleasurably. "I'm not playing games." He was. He always was. "I'm just teasin' ya, lovie. No games, just fun." Games, fun, really they were both the same.
He laughs lowly, lowering his head to kiss your shirt-covered shoulder. One of his hands slides down your body, stopping when he reaches the end of your shorts. He moves your panties to the side, two of his fingers sliding through your folds.
“So wet f’r me, yeah?” He whispers in your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Did you miss me like this the whole time?” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, despite him being right. “Maybe.” You answered. “Maybe?” He questioned. “If you’re allowed to keep secrets so am I.” He laughs again, kissing your shoulder once more. “Fair enough.”
He takes your hand off his cock that’s painfully hard by now. He needs you too badly to enjoy the foreplay any longer. He tugs your shorts down roughly, too eager to pull off your underwear. He shoves your panties to the side before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in.
You pushed your body against his, biting your lip to quiet your moans. “Missed this tight pussy.” He groans. His hands stray to your ass cheeks, squeezing each of them with his firm hands.
It’s pathetic how eager both of you are. Both pent up, frustrated, perhaps for different reasons. The way your bodies are pressed together is a sin. Barely any clothes have been taken off, so why do you feel so dirty?
Maybe it was because of how deep his cock was buried in you. Or how hard your fingernails were pressing into his biceps. It could be both, it’s definitely both. If passion is a sin then so be it. He was always so good to you. Fucking you until you were crying, asking if you could give him just one more.
You moaned his name, with each thrust. Giving up on trying to be quiet. He preferred when you were loud anyway. “Yeah? Moanin’ my name like a slut?” His words were harsh but his soft kisses on your temple were all the reassurance you needed.
“Your slut.” The words slide off your tongue before you have a chance to think about them. His hips stutter when he hears what you said, holding back a throaty moan. “My slut, eh? At least you know it.” He rasps out, a smile mixed with cockiness and something you can’t decipher strung on his face. “My fuckin’ slut.”
┊ㅤㅤ💋 ㅤㅤ ﾟㅤㅤ ┊
