Starry Eyes Sparking Up My Darkest Night

Taylor Swift & Fictional Men.

[bennysmiller]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

This is just a small piece, it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages now and I didn’t know how to progress it ❤️

Simon closes his eyes when you get in the passenger side of his car, savouring the scent of the perfume he bought you for your birthday mixed with the smell of rain that you found yourself drenched in. Your top clings to your chest, the gold ‘S’ pendant around your neck settling just where Simon likes to see it, even more so against your glistening wet skin.

“Christ,” you groan, causing Simon to open his eyes and look in your direction. “I was there for two minutes and I’m absolutely fucking soaked.”

“Funny, that’s what you said on our first date.” Simon responds, voice deep but with the slightest hint that he was proud of himself for that one.

You roll your eyes and sit back, admiring Simon. His jaw, his thighs in those jeans, and the way he’s looking at your body, skin-tight, wet clothes hugging you.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling, getting caught in the rain when you’re least expecting it, but your wet hair and smudged mascara make you look so damn pretty. To Simon, anyway.

“Where to?” He asks, hand gripping the steering wheel. “Fancy a drink? You must be hungry at least?”

“Home,” you say, “so I can take these clothes off.”

Simon doesn’t start the car. He just sits there for a moment, like he’s thinking about how to respond.

“Funny, that’s what you-”

“Simon, I swear to god.”

[bennysmiller]

FWB!Benny Miller x Reader

Benny and Reader share a small but significant moment together. Smutty. 18+ only.

Benny Miller was a sight for sore eyes. Lips slightly parted and eyes full of admiration for you as you bounced on his cock. He wasn’t loud during sex, but the odd moan he’d let out gave you enough confidence in what you were doing. Strands of his hair stuck to his sweat-adorned forehead from the previous position you had found yourselves in. Now it was your turn to take control. Benny sat up against the headboard, his hands gripped your hips, and you were close.

Benny could tell, his fingers began circling your clit so he could give you the bliss you deserved.

“That’s it, baby. C’mon,” he growled, the sound of him so worked up tipped you over the edge, his own orgasm following closely behind.

What you had both agreed to, was sex. No kissing. No aftercare. Just sex. Benny calling you “baby” was a dangerous game, and one you wanted to play. You groaned slightly as you got off of Benny, and settled down next to him.

“You should stay,” you blurted out. “I want you to stay. Fuck those rules we made up.”

Benny turned his head to you, and raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t want that.” he said, voice tired and still thick with sex.

“Yes I do.”

“Breakin’ your own rules now are we, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

Baby.

“Every time you call me anything other than my name, you are breaking the rules,” you said, poking his chest to emphasise the second you. “I don’t scold you for it.”

“Because you like it,” Benny replied. “And don’t pretend I’m wrong.”

He was right. And you didn’t have the patience nor energy to argue with him.

“I do,” you muttered, pulling the sheets up to hide the red on your face.

Benny didn’t say anything for a while. But he didn’t need to. His eyes said it all. You could feel them on you. All he could see was some of your face, and messy hair on your pillow, but he couldn’t stop looking.

“What?” you groan from underneath the sheets, subconsciously squeezing your thighs together when you heard Benny’s deep chuckle, even after the session you two just had.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You peered up at him, and before you had the chance to argue back, Benny pulled you into his side.

“You should get some sleep, baby. I’ll see you in the morning.”

[bennysmiller]

I need him so badly it’s not even funny (the TONGUE)

[bennysmiller]

Triple Frontier requests now open 🫶🏻

I miss writing for the boys so please send in any TF requests you have for them 🩷

[bennysmiller]

Lace and Blush - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader Smut

Simon closely follows you around the shops, part boyfriend, part bodyguard. He threw the hood of his jumper up as soon as you both exited the safe space of your car and entered the shopping centre. He hates this. He hates clothes shopping. But he loves you. So damn much. So he pushes his hatred aside for a couple of hours, and finds it isn’t so bad as he watches your face light up when you find something you love.

“Sit”, you say to Simon, pointing at a pink cushioned seat in the fitting room area, as you enter one of the small rooms opposite.

“I’m not a dog,” he says, gruff and tired, but as obedient as ever.

You roll your eyes and smile at him when you see him sit down despite his comment. He watches as you push aside the fitting room curtain and disappear inside. The fitting area is dead, apart from the two of you. No other customers, no sales assistant. No music blaring like on the shop floor, so Simon listens to the muffle of fabric and hangers coming from your place behind the curtain.

Simon’s cock begins to harden at the thought of you, almost naked such a short distance away from him, and in public, too. He’d fuck you then and there if he could, he’d get behind you and bend you over, making you watch every second as he fucks up into you from behind in the full-length mirror. He grunts as he adjusts his cock in his jeans, and jumps from his pleasant little daydream as he hears you push the curtain aside and reappear from the fitting room.

“This bra is the only thing that fits,” you sigh, holding up a skimpy little thing to Simon, delicate blush pink lace with a floral pattern in the centre that covers the nipple, but sheer elsewhere.

“Put it back on,” Simon responds through gritted teeth as he touches himself through his jeans. “And show me this time.”

“But Simon, someone could hear.”

“I don’t care. Let them see. Let them listen.”

Simon stands, boots heavy against the floor as he approaches you, cock twitching as you back up into the fitting room. He tugs at the curtain, pulling it across the railing, and you two stand chest-to-chest.

“If you get me banned from this shop, I swear to God, Riley.” You say, your words saying one thing, and the wetness between your thighs saying another.

Simon shrugs before spinning you around and locking eyes with you in the mirror.

“Best be quiet then, ain’t you love?”

[bennysmiller]

Wish List - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Late October mornings aren’t the same since you crossed paths with Simon Riley. They’re better. Still cold, and more often than not, wet, but they now come with the perk of watching your broad Simon walk your little dachshund, the one he swore he didn’t care for when he met you. You can hardly make out Simon’s face, the bottom half covered by a fleeced scarf, the hood of his coat pulled up. Your fingers are intertwined with his as he holds the lead with his free hand.

You pass houses decorated for Halloween, orange leaves crunching beneath you as you go. Your nose is red, Simon notices every time he looks at you as you both stop when the dog finds something he wants to investigate. What he doesn’t notice, is the blur in your eyes. Not from the cold, although that doesn’t help, but from the way these walks make you realise what it is that you really want.

“Don’t go near that,” Simon says to the dog, gently prying him away from the mystery object on the ground. “What the fuck even is it? Doesn’t matter. Mummy and Daddy need you safe.”

Mummy and Daddy. That’s it. That’s what you want. It’s such a simple life, really. Pumpkins and ridiculous matching costumes. You’d worry about Simon everyday, more than you do now, but wouldn’t it be worth it? Every Christmas, every birthday, every celebration spent together, with a little human made up of everything that is beautiful about you and Simon.

“You’d be a good dad, Si,” you say, looking up at him, voice shaking slightly.

But you have nothing to be nervous about when Simon’s smile is so obvious underneath his scarf, his eyes crinkling at your comment as he squeezes your hand in acknowledgment. It’s the moment everything clicks. Simon wants this, too. Everything that comes with being yours, you best believe he’ll be there for all of it.

Simon looks at you as your eyes wander around the houses, making a mental note to thank Johnny later. He must have known, somehow, that the two of you would end up here, despite Simon’s protests when Johnny suggested setting the two of you up. For some couples, deciding their future can be hard. Sometimes you’re not on the same page. But for you and Simon, nothing has ever been easier. He’s glad he brought that ring out on the walk now.

[bennysmiller]

Tears Over Coffee - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

I’ve been an emotional mess recently and this is very self-indulgent lol. Reader is upset so only read ahead if you’re comfortable.

“I’m not sure I can do it, Simon.”

It’s Sunday morning. Quarter past ten, to be exact. The day started as Sundays usually do; your head on Simon’s chest, your fingers lightly skating around his skin as he inhales the scent of your shampoo. Nothing else really matters at that point, you’ve both survived the week and quite frankly, that’s an achievement worth celebrating with lazy cuddles and soft morning kisses. It’s a ritual the two of you have come to take very seriously as your relationship has developed. But sometimes, Sunday mornings can feel like the dread of a new week, rather than a relieved goodbye to the current week.

You’re sitting at the table opposite Simon, empty coffee mugs and plates still in front of the both of you. He’s not quite sure when things changed this morning, but one thing he does know is you have tears in your eyes and your bottom lip between your teeth to stop any sobs that threaten to bubble up through your throat.

“You can, and you will. You always find a way. I don’t know how you bloody do it, sweetheart,” he says, his voice tired but full to the brim of his love and care for you.

Simon’s words are what eventually break you. You love him so damn much. Your lip quivers and that sob you’d been afraid of eventually spills out into the kitchen and you prop an elbow up on the table, your forehead falling into your hand. You want Simon. You want slow mornings with the man you love, and yet, the world simply isn’t built this way. You work a job you hate. You worry about Simon all the damn time when he’s away. It’s fucking unfair.

“Fuck,” Simon mutters, realising he’s made it worse. Getting up out of his chair before crouching down next to you, he prompts for you to look at him and his heart breaks a little at your red eyes. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You shake your head, embarrassed at the little hiccups escaping your lips as you try to calm yourself down, but Simon thinks they’re fucking adorable.

“Don’t be silly, you were trying to help. I’m just a mess at the minute.” You reassure him, almost nuzzling your cheek into his hand as he wipes your tears away, as if you were a kitten.

“You’re not.” He says, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. “But what I do think you are, is better than any of those fuckers you work with. Shouldn’t be making you this upset.”

“I know,” you whisper, relaxing as Simon massages your thigh.

“ ‘M gonna get us away from this place one day, lovie. Won’t have to worry about a thing, promise.”

You nod, a smile replacing the tears.

“Get you that house you love. It’ll be ours and you’ll be taken care of. None of these tears over shitty jobs that don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you Si, I really don’t.” You say, collapsing forward and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I reckon you’d be just fine, sweetheart. But it’s nicer this way, ain’t it?”

[bennysmiller]

All Yours - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Simon didn’t know relief until you moved in with him. He no longer dreads the empty silence of what one should call his house, and instead smiles to himself walking up to the door. He peels his mask off once the front door is firmly shut and inhales the scent that you leave wherever you go, like some kind of fairy dust. Sometimes it’s vanilla, other times it’s cherry. This time it’s floral. But it’s always so you. A soft feminine touch to his once lonely, almost cold, living space. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t crave it after a mission. Nothing beats returning home safely and knowing his girl is waiting for him.

“Si?” You shout from the living room, your voice sending an electricity through Simon’s body as he gathers himself in the hallway. He clears his throat and shrugs his bag off of his shoulder before taking one last look at the flowers he picked up at the shops for you.

Before he can make his way to the living room, you appear at the end of the hallway. A thick silence fills the space between you two, before a chuckle escapes Simon’s lips as you run to him.

“‘Ello, love,” he says, his voice low and tired. One hand holds the flowers and one snakes around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He kisses the top of your head before leaning back to get a good look at your pretty face.

His heart breaks a little as you wipe away your tears, knowing it’s because you’ve been away from him for so damn long. But a soft smile still breaks out on your face as you meet his eyes and you stand on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

“Missed you,” you mumble into him, throwing your arms around his neck as he holds back tears himself.

“I’ll be home for a while now love, I’m all yours.”

[bennysmiller]

For your Protection - Bodyguard!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Actress!Reader

A little smutty, so again, only read if you’re comfortable ❤️

“Oi,” grunts Simon, “Be careful with her.”

You look over your shoulder at the man hired to protect you, and throw him a look that says can you back the fuck up? He’s tough, not scared of anyone or anything, but when it comes to you, he’s not so brave. Even when you give him such a look, you melt him. So Simon does exactly that, and takes a few steps away. You smile at him a little and return your attention to the man in front of you.

“Sorry about him,” you mutter, taking the item that the fan of yours had asked you to sign before Simon interrupted. You swiftly decorate it with your pretty signature, adding a heart as an apology.

“Thank you for taking the time to do this,” he says as you hand the item and pen back to him.

“You’re welcome, thank you for asking.” You ignore Simon’s sighing and pacing in the background as you finish the conversation. “I have to be in an interview soon but I’ve loved meeting you.”

You say your goodbyes and turn to face Simon, his arms folded across his chest.

“He wasn’t even doing anything, Si.” You roll your eyes at the man in front of you. “I know that you only want to protect me, and I really appreciate the work you do to make sure I’m safe, but I’m okay on my own sometimes, you know?”

Simon relaxes at your softer tone, grateful that you’re not really mad at him. He knows you can handle yourself, but he hates that there could come a time when you can’t.

“I know, love. ‘M sorry.” He says, unfolding his arms and checking his watch. “But you’re my priority for as long as I’m ‘ere.”

“And for that reason, I want you to stick around for as long as possible. But I also need some space.”

Liar.

Everyone knows you have a crush on your bodyguard. Shit, even he knows. Probably. Travelling around the world for press tours and premiers means hotel rooms. Hotel rooms mean little to no real privacy as Simon stands outside of your room guarding your door as you fuck yourself silly at the thought of him. You try and keep as quiet as possible but he has to have heard at one point or another.

He once attended a Met Gala after party with you, all grumpy and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. But he looked so handsome in his suit, and you admired the way his forearm tattoos peaked out from underneath his rolled up shirt sleeves when he got too hot and took his jacket off.

You were a few drinks in and on your way back from the bathroom when some other actress asked you if you’d seen the “miserable but sexy man with the tatts and muscles” sitting in the dark corner. She pushed up her tits and spun on her heels to go and speak to Simon.

No, no, and no. Absolutely not.

“He’s taken,” you said, slurring your words slightly, a dangerous combination of alcohol and adrenaline coursing through you. “By me.”

She stopped and looked you up and down, an eyebrow raised.

“Are you sure?” Okay. Rude.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

She sighed, and took one last look at Simon before turning in the other direction.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” you said, the music too loud for anyone to have heard.

You stumbled back over to your table, and Simon perked up a little, happy at the fact you returned in one piece.

“Hello Riley,” you said, a content sigh escaping your lips as you sat back down next to him. You unconsciously cuddled into him, your head against his shoulder.

He chuckled at this. He’d never get bored of hearing you call him by his surname. The scent of alcohol and your perfume combined with the fact he needed to be a professional was what had him feeling so grumpy all evening.

Simon had spent the time prior to the after party stood on the sidelines, watching you do your thing in your pretty dress and expensive jewellery, while the photographers snapped pictures of you posing for them. You’d changed into something more casual for the party, you still looked gorgeous in Simon’s eyes, but watching you at the Gala did things to him.

So now he stands in front of you, outside the hotel you’re staying at and those feelings he has for you sit tight in his chest. There are no more fans to meet, so he gestures for you to go back inside.

“I know you need your space. I’m here because I care, ‘s all.” He says, walking behind you as you both return inside and head up to your room.

“We don’t need to speak about this anymore, Riley.” You say, placing a gentle hand on his bicep. The short ride in the elevator a small moment of privacy for the both of you, before you reach your floor.

You thank him as he lets you out first and you both walk to your room.

“I won’t be leaving my room tonight anymore, Si,” you say. “I’m tired, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Simon nods in response, and unlocks your door for you.

“Very well, have a nice night,” he says, watching you smile and head inside.

Before you can close the door, Simon stops it with his foot. He leans in, and drops his head to your ear, his voice low.

“But do feel free to request my assistance if you find yourself needing something more than that little piece of silicone I found in your case earlier.”

[bennysmiller]

Wrong Person - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Smutty again, sorry not sorry 😙

SIMON: Judging by the use of some other lucky sod’s name, I’m assuming that wasn’t meant for me. But Christ…

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you say to yourself, scrambling with shaking hands to delete the picture, as Simon’s response comes through.

You feel sick. You just sent Simon Riley a very sexy picture of yourself. Not on purpose. But Simon and the man who was supposed to receive it were next to each other on your recent texts, and you simply misclicked.

The picture was a full-body mirror selfie of you on your knees, completely fucking naked, and holding a well-used vibrator, the mess you made on it just minutes ago obvious underneath the light of your bedroom.

YOU: Simon. I’m so sorry. I’m very fucking embarrassed.

You anxiously await his reply, and it takes everything in you to not block the poor man there and then. That would be easier than having a full-on conversation about it. But you can’t do that. You squeeze your eyes shut and slowly open them when your phone dings.

SIMON: What is there to be embarrassed about when you look like that?

Oh. Oh.

You don’t reply. You’re not quite sure what to say. Thank you? Seems weird. Telling him to fuck off? A little rude. It’s not his fault you’re so clumsy. Nothing feels quite right. So you stay silent, until another text comes through.

SIMON: You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Or sorry. But if you really want, I’ll pretend to have not seen it.

You sigh a little, grateful that the situation has calmed a little already.

YOU: Thank you.

Two hours pass by, and you’re in bed reading. Your phone goes off, and you take a quick look with no real intention to reply, but you’re curious who could be texting you so late at night.

SIMON: You’re quite the woman. Stunning, you know? Deserve to be told every day.

You’re pissed off and wet (once again) both at the same time. Part of you is annoyed at Simon’s inability to leave the situation alone, but the other part of you is turned on and flattered that he won’t leave it alone. You must’ve made an impression on the man.

YOU: What happened to pretending you’d never never seen it, huh? You little fucker.

SIMON: Hard to forget a picture like that.

You shouldn’t be smiling as much as you are, but God, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this. You have Simon Riley all riled up.

YOU: Fine. Thanks, I guess. But can you wank it out of your system now so it’s not weird when we’re all together tomorrow?

You joke, but your heart stops when instead of texting you back, Simon calls you. You answer, but no words are exchanged when Simon clears his throat and you hear the faint zip of his jeans.

[bennysmiller]

PR - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Influencer!Reader

Anon, it isn’t letting me respond to your ask, however I was very excited when I read this and I hope you love it. Thank you for sending it in, always happy to take requests when I can get round to them ❤️

“So once again, thank you to the lovely Sasha for sending me her new collection of lip kits,” you say, holding the four kits up to the camera. “They’re stunning. I have a new video coming out soon where I show you a different look for each shade.”

You put the kits back, and take a quick break from opening PR packages to take a sip of the tea Simon made you before you started filming. As you go to pick up the next package, Simon peaks his head around the bedroom door. He’s come to love watching you film, he loves watching you do your hair and makeup, and he especially loves your try-on hauls. Those ones often end the same way - you on your back beneath Simon as you both catch your breath. That’s what happens when you banish the poor man to the bed and make him watch you dress up and down for an hour.

“Yes, Si?” You giggle at his curiosity as he makes his way into the bedroom.

“Nothin’ love, just want to watch my girl at work,” he says.

Simon’s eyes widen as he looks at the floor, now full of cardboard boxes and pretty PR packaging. He raises an eyebrow. This is one side of your job he isn’t so familiar with at this point.

“What’s all this?” He asks, lightly kicking an empty box and looking around at what has become your shared bedroom.

“Makeup, mostly,” you shrug. “A couple of skincare products, too.”

“When did you buy all of this? I know it’s your job, but this stuff looks expensive to be buying yourself, lovie. Let me-”

“No Si, I didn’t buy any of this. I get it sent to me for free. They’re all new products that are new out or haven’t been released yet. Makeup brands especially like to send new releases to influencers so we can review or promote them on our pages.”

Simon doesn’t respond, he just sits on the edge of your bed, just out of shot of the camera and continues inspecting the packages on the floor.

“Sorry, I know it’s all a bit chaotic in here at the minute but I have lots to get through, I promise I’ll-” you start, but Simon cuts you off.

“We’ll not be havin’ any of that, love,” he says. “No need to apologise for this. I’d just like ta’ watch as you go through the rest if that’s alright. This world of yours is new to me, but I fuckin’ love watching you.”

“Of course you can watch, baby,” you say before placing a kiss on his cheek. You’ve never had a boyfriend so interested in what you do before. It makes you feel so many things. Simon makes you feel so many things. “But no making me laugh this time, Riley. I had to edit so much footage out the last time you sat this close to me.”

Simon gives you a small smile as he remembers that night. You were fifty per cent mad at him for delaying your filming session, and fifty per cent I’m so attracted to him right now for knowing how to make me laugh so damn much.

You ask Simon to hand you a pretty blush-pink box and you start filming again. Inside is a beautiful eyeshadow palette, gold packaging with shimmering pinks and neutrals inside. The ring light accentuates the shimmer and Simon fucking Riley, of all men, can’t look away. He watches closely as you test the shades on the back of your hand.

Something you’d told him after a little bit of wine was that a lot of influencers can be fake. He suppressed a chuckle as you ranted on about all the snakes in the industry, giving false reviews if it meant staying in the good books of certain brands. But he knew that wasn’t you. The happiness on your face as you found beautiful colours and sparkles made him happy. And Simon hadn’t had many run-ins with that particular emotion, until he met you.

You were Simon’s pretty girl, loved by not only him, but over a million people online. He’s still not entirely sure what any of it means, but he does know that you deserve expensive things. He doesn’t care that you get it all for free, he’s always treating you. He couldn’t be any damn prouder.

[bennysmiller]

Off-Camera: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Influencer!Reader

This is slightly smutty so please only carry on if you’re comfortable with that 🖤

You’re all set up in the living room, bags of new clothes at your feet and your camera accompanied by the ring light and tripod, ready for you to film your latest video. You check yourself in the mirror one last time before taking a seat in front of your camera. A bright smile appears on your face as you hit the filming button, and you begin.

“Hi my angels,” you say, waving at your camera. “Welcome back to another video. This is going to be a try-on haul. I know you all love those.”

Simon took you shopping yesterday. Most boyfriends drag their feet as they follow their girl around the shops, but Simon lived for the way your face lit up when you found something you loved. It was a fairly new relationship that you and Simon had, and you’d initially waved off the idea of him spending so much money on you so early on, but he insisted.

You pick up one of the bags of clothes you got yesterday, ready to talk about the different shops you visited and all the stunning pieces you picked up before showing them off, but you jump at the front door opening, and then closing. A groan followed by the footsteps of someone wearing heavy boots tells you it’s Simon, but he wasn’t due to be home yet. He’d only left thirty minutes ago.

“Si?” you shout, leaning over to pause the recording.

Your heart flutters when Simon appears in the living room, forgetting the confusion from just a moment ago.

“God,” he starts, looking at you with something mischievous in his eyes, and rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’ll never get bored of coming home and seeing you, just doing your own thing like you live here. You might as well at this rate.”

You smile at him and feel yourself blush at the fact that he wants you to live with him already. Very few manage to break through to Simon Riley in this way, but you think you’ve somehow done it. You shake your head, still grinning, but choosing to ignore his comment for now, opting to question him about why he’s back so early instead.

“You.” Simon replies, shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Can’t stay away from you, apparently.”

“As nice as that is, what did you tell Johnny? I can’t imagine he’ll be very happy if you-”

Simon sits himself down on the sofa, directly opposite you and your filming set up. He smirks to himself, throwing one arm over the back of the sofa while the other slightly adjusts his cock through his clothes. As if you wouldn’t notice that.

“Johnny will be fine. Now, I think I interrupted you, so don’t mind me, lovie.”

Nope.

You’re pretty comfortable around Simon now. After all, he wants you to move in with him. You’ve also been known to act up during sex, doing anything and everything to get him riled up. So it’s not that you’re shy around Simon, but you’ve just never shown him your influencer side before. He doesn’t really do the whole TikTok thing, so any video he’s seen of you has been entirely your choosing. You can feel your cheeks burn up at the thought of having to do it in front of him.

“You want to watch me film? I’m not going to be able to focus with you sitting there gawking at me,” you say, the bag of clothes still balancing on your thigh as you play with the handles.

Simon scoffs at this. “You’ve fucked yourself in front of me before. You’ve sat on my face. You let me eat your pussy while you spoke on the phone. Don’t get all shy on me now, gorgeous.” Simon says, his voice growing deeper with every word as he remembers each event.

You couldn’t argue with any of that. He made a good point. You sigh as you reach over to your camera and continue recording. Before you speak to your audience, you look once more at Simon.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I would never, sweetheart. I want to see you do your thing, ‘s all.”

You start filming again and sit up, your cheeks burning as you tell your audience where the clothes featured are from.

“I’m now going to pop off-camera to try the first outfit on and I’ll be back with the full look,” you say, smiling sweetly at the camera. It melts Simon, how cute and embarrassed you are. Such a contrast from how you are when you’re begging for him to fuck you as he teases your clit to the point of tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You consider leaving the living room for a moment so you can get changed, but something stops you at the last second. You move only a couple steps to the side, enough that you’re out of shot, but still in full view of Simon. His eyes follow you, and he tenses up when you lift up your tank top in front of him, your bare breasts on display as you bring it over your head and discard it onto the floor. Next, you pull down your shorts. All that’s left on your body is a tiny thong.

“Fuck me,” growls Simon, adjusting his cock once again.

“You wanted to watch me,” you shrug. “So you’ll do exactly that until I’m finished filming and if you’re good, then maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

God, Simon was well and truly fucked. You were his girl. You were meant for him. Such a goddess and pain in his arse all at once as you tease him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. He fucking loved you, and he was planning on telling you once he’s fucked you into the mattress later tonight.

Simon continues watching you as you put on the first outfit and sit back down in front of your camera. He’s not disappointed that you’re fully dressed again. He’s rock-hard in his boxers seeing you innocent and sweet for your fans on-screen, but such a filthy girl for him off-screen.

[bennysmiller]

Home - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Simon regularly makes himself at home on your couch. Also in your kitchen. Definitely in your shower. And your stomach erupts with butterflies as you make your way up to your apartment, the thought of him possibly being there once again exciting you. It’s almost a game to the two of you now. He knows you’ll be disappointed if you don’t return home from work to find the broad man walking around shirtless with damp hair and smelling of your sweet shower products, as though he owns the damn place.

As much as he loves seeing your face light up when you find him spread out on the couch in the clothes you keep there for him, to your frustration, he also seems to enjoy the whiny texts he receives when you realise he isn’t there.

Simon, I could really use you right now and you’re not here. It’s not fair.

He never lasts long though. He smirks to himself at the thought of you needing him so badly that you don’t mind if he breaks into your apartment or not. But this time, it was different. Simon was there. He’d returned from a mission that same day, without telling you. To your knowledge, he was still away. So your heart stops a little when you drag your feet to your front door just to see it already unlocked. Simon would tell you if he was back, wouldn’t he? Of course he would. He could be a sneaky bastard more often than not, but he’d let you know with something like this.

You jump slightly at what sounds like glass smashing against the floor. Oh fuck. Call the police. Call a friend. Call anyone, for God’s sake. But you don’t do any of that. Instead, the time Simon taught you self-defence techniques flashed through your head, and you felt ready to do exactly what he told you to do. Mostly because he’d let out a gruff good girl and reward you with a squeeze on your ass every time you did something well. That particular night went on for hours. It was muscle memory at this point. You couldn’t walk to next day, for two very different reasons, but the hard work had finally paid off.

Opening the door slightly, you step inside and take a deep breath. The noise is coming from the kitchen, and without a second thought, you head in that very direction. You swing the kitchen door open and freeze at the sight in front of you. Simon fucking Riley.

He whips his head round and locks his eyes with yours before moving them to the floor. Your gaze follows his and you stare at the shattered glass at his feet. You flick your eyes up again and suppress a smile at his red face.

“‘M sorry, love. Bought you these,” he starts, as he picks up a bouquet of roses in one hand and gestures at the floor with the other. “But I dropped the vase.”

You want to be mad. You want to yell at him for not telling you he was back. But you’ve never seen him so fucking flustered, and it’s adorable.

“I need to freshen up, but then I’m going to show you exactly what I was going to do to your ass. This is all your doing, Riley,” you say as you start to unbutton your blouse and grin as his eyes glue to the way your tits almost spill out of your bra. “It’s not my fault I had such a good teacher.”

[bennysmiller]

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Just a quick piece as I can’t sleep so thought I’d channel my energy into this instead. Hope it’s okay 🩷

It’s such a simple life, really. This is all you’ll ever need. You, Frankie, his daughter, and maybe even a child of your own one day. You smile to yourself as you remember the events of the day, an early morning walk to the park followed by Frankie’s daughter painting his nails and doing your hair. She was now tucked up in her bed as you and Frankie take time for yourselves.

You’re both on the couch, your feet in his lap while his hands rub soft circles through the material of your fluffy socks and his eyes focus on the TV. The wine you’ve been sipping on, although you’ve not had much, is appearing on your face in the form of a warm blush across your cheeks. Frankie turns his head and starts to say something, but stops himself when he sees you already staring.

“Is the movie that boring that you have to watch me instead, baby? I’m flattered,” he says, his dimples melting you as a smile appears on his face.

“Marry me, Frankie.”

That’s all you can say to him. The cheeky comment, the way he teases you and loves you all the same, how much he cares for you, how much his daughter adores you. It all makes sense. You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. You want a future with this man, and from the way he freezes before taking your hand in his, you sense that he feels the same.

“I’ll marry you, baby. And I’ll do it in the next life, too.”

[bennysmiller]

Will Miller x Younger!Reader

I’m twenty-two years younger than Charlie and I want Will Miller, that’s all u need to know about this ok byeee 💜

Your dress was on Will’s bedroom floor, your heels somewhere that wasn’t the bedroom. You had no idea where they were, you couldn’t remember. But how could you when Will Miller had you trapped between his broad frame and his mattress? You moan a little as he kisses the sensitive skin of your neck, the feeling combined with the scratch of his facial hair making you shiver under his touch.

Will had been eyeing you up all evening. He knew he wanted to speak to you, and he knew what he was going to say. But every time he tried to get up, it was like he was stuck in his chair. He couldn’t do it, because he was nervous. Will Miller never got nervous. He had it bad for you. So when you sauntered over to his table and took a seat to his left, he sent a silent thank you to the skies. But he found himself in even more trouble when you started the conversation.

“I’m so hot,” you said, fanning yourself with some booklet you found in the kitchen. “I might have to go back inside and strip off in front of the fan.” You joke as you look at Will.

He swallowed hard at that last sentence, eyes focusing on anything but you, and still his cock hardened at the thought. You’re his friend’s daughter, and also a good few years younger than him. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. Will felt a pang of guilt wash over him, but his heart betrayed him when he finally looked at you. God, you’re gorgeous. So glowy underneath the Florida sun, your nipples poking through the thin material of your short sundress.

“Sorry. That’s not something you want to think about, is it? Let’s change the topic.” You say, followed by a little laugh and a red flush on your cheeks when you realise the image you painted for him.

Will raised an eyebrow at that. If only you knew, baby, he thought to himself. He cleared his throat, and watched as your tongue played with the straw in your drink. He was being tortured.

“How are the guys?” You ask, referring to his brother Benny, Santi, and Frankie.

“Good. They’re all good.” Will smiled, his voice low and raspy. “How are things with you?”

You sigh and put the drink down on the table before turning to Will.

“Not too good, honestly. Jack and I, we broke up.”

Oh.

Will perked up at this. He hated Jack.

“He was so immature. It was like babysitting all day every day. So I got rid of him. My friends say I should look for someone older next time. Megan says those are the men who know how to treat a girl.”

Will nearly choked on his beer when he saw the way you were looking at him once that last sentence left your pretty mouth. Fluttering eyelashes and your fingers tracing the hem of your dress. He’d tear the damn thing off if you weren’t careful. Right in front of everyone, including your father.

So that’s how you ended up on your back underneath Will Miller. Completely naked with smudged lipstick and mascara flaking down your cheeks. He ate you out on his sofa first, too impatient to take it to the bedroom, and denied you your orgasm before throwing you over his shoulder and finally carrying you up to his bed wanting you to be as comfortable as possible. You were close to tears from balancing on the thin line between pleasure and frustration.

“Megan was lying when she said that men like you know how to treat a girl. Because you’re being fucking cruel.” You say breathlessly as he teases the tip of his cock against your clit and between your folds. He takes in the feel of your pink pussy, so wet just for him.

Will huffs out a laugh at your comment, before finally filling you up. Neither of you could take it anymore, and he’d been waiting for this moment all evening. You felt even better than he thought you would. His thrusts and fingers on your clit make your eyes roll back. You’re in your twenties and have never been fucked this way before. Megan was right.

A few more thrusts and you were both there, with you letting go all over his cock, and him surprisingly having enough restraint to pull out and paint your tits with his white pleasure. It didn’t take long, you were both so worked up after not only the teasing, but the thrill of it all. The thrill of knowing that it was so wrong, but doing it anyway. You smiled up at Will with heavy, tired eyes as he cleaned you up, before collapsing down next to you. You placed a kiss on his jaw and settled your head on his chest.

Your heart fluttered at the softness of it all, after the pure filth you two had engaged in just moments prior. He didn’t want you to leave as soon as it was over. He took care of you, gently cleaned himself off of your breasts, and told you how well you did for him. You wanted more. He wanted more. Fuck what anyone else has to say.

[bennysmiller]

Haunted - Benny Miller x Reader

Benny misses you.

Benny Miller has made plenty of mistakes in his life, but the worst one by far was messing things up with you. He did what he could to make you stay, you'd never seen him so desperate. The sight of him on his knees in front of you shouldn't have made you as weak as it did, but you reminded yourself you were frustrated. Upset. Sick of feeling like you were in it on your own, and you had to do something about it.

He eventually met a woman, the complete opposite of you, both in terms of looks and personality. She didn't smell like you, she didn't know how to run her fingers through his hair at night as they both held each other to sleep, and she didn't get along with Will, Frankie, or Santiago. Whenever they all got together, to take himself away from the awkward silences, Benny would remember the way you'd sit on his lap as the boys sipped their beers and talked about anything and everything in Will's back garden, while Benny's hand slipped higher and higher up your thigh underneath your sundress.

His new girl never wanted anything like that. No genuine closeness. Benny had his suspicions that she was in it for the sex, but he was, too. Because it certainly wasn't a loving relationship. It wasn't all butterflies and stumbling over his words whenever he got nervous around her. This time, it felt strictly sexual. And he hated it. He wanted you. Not meaningless fucking to numb the pain on the nights he felt particularly bad. The only remedy for it was you.

So he couldn't believe it when you tapped him on the shoulder one night in a restaurant, your face full of just as much sadness as his. Your teary eyes flicked to the bleach-blonde opposite him, and then back to your Benny. You confessed how much you'd missed him right in front of the blonde. You didn't give a shit. Benny stood up, grabbed your hand, and led you out of the restaurant. He'd deal with the girl he left behind later.

"Benny," you say softly, as you look up at him, shivering slightly in the late-evening air. "I fucked up, baby. I know I did."

"This is my fault, I shouldn't have made you feel like your only option was to walk away from me. I should've been there for you." Benny replies, pulling you into his chest as the familiar scent of your shampoo fills his nose. It's as though he's been wandering through the woods for weeks on end, the tall trees casting a constant darkness over him, and he knows he's nearly out because you're his sunshine.

There is an unspoken decision hanging in the air that the two of you are back together. You kiss him and the way you melt into each other shows the insanity of ever thinking you'd be better off with other people.

Benny holds your face in his hands for a few moments, before moving them down to your hips and placing his forehead on yours. The noise from the restaurant and the hum of traffic disappear and for the first time in what in Benny's book has simply been too long, it's just the two of you.

"We'll work through this together, baby. I promise." He says, before placing another soft kiss on your lips and leading you to his car to take you back to his place, so he can catch up on weeks' worth of missed boyfriend duties.

[bennysmiller]

Mask On - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female Reader

A short fic in which Simon and the guys find out your bedroom reading preferences.

You were simply too exhausted to join in with the chaos happening in the next room. You had no idea what Soap and Gaz were shouting excitedly about but you didn't care to know. A cup of tea warmed your hands, a book sat on your lap, and you were sorted for the evening. The noise meant nothing to you anymore, you were far too used to it, so you tuned the guys out and picked up where you left off the night before.

The book was one of many smutty reads in your possession, a good dark romance with the perfect amount of spice. As you read on, a familiar wetness begins to grow between your thighs. Your heart rate picked up. Your thighs pressed together and a slight whimper escaped your mouth, grateful for the lack of anyone else in the room. Pathetic, you thought to yourself. It's a book, get yourself together, girl.

Bang.

Your head shot up at the noise, clearly not as good at tuning everyone out as you thought. In your defense, you were all worked up, a delicate, melting mess on the sofa. The next thing you know, the men from next door are filtering through into the room you were in. First, a frustrated-looking Price, followed by Gaz and Soap bickering like school children. And then him. Simon Riley. The man who commands a room like no other. You know him well enough by now but you shrink under his gaze when you remember the short sleep shorts you pulled on in a desperate bid to get out of your uniform. You clear your throat, hoping they couldn't tell what was going on underneath those shorts.

"Shit, sorry darlin," says Price, as he notices your book.

"S'alright," you sigh, pulling at your t-shirt for extra coverage down there, and throwing your book down on the coffee table in front of you. "What was that noise?" you question, slightly concerned that the building wasn't going to hold up much longer.

"We accidentally-hey..." said Soap, interrupting himself as he made his way over to the coffee table, and picked up your book. "That looks like someone I know." he says, a cheeky grin on that face of his as he holds up the cover of the book for everyone to get a good look at.

Oh. Fuck.

Your face turned red as Gaz snickered and looked over at Simon.

This can't be happening. They can't seriously think-

"This fella on the cover of her book, it looks like you, mate." Continued Soap, moving over to Simon and comparing the two.

You little fucker, Johnny.

The book you were reading, the one that was the centre of everyone's attention, was about a woman with a mask kink. A truly filthy read. One that widened Soap's eyes as he flicked through the pages, all while ensuring he kept your bookmark in place as his eyes bounced from the words to you.

"You're into this? You're too innocent, there's no way." he said, earning a small grunt and movement from Simon.

"What? What is she into?" said the broad man next to Soap.

Take me now, God. Anywhere. However you please. Just get me the fuck out of this room, you thought to yourself.

Soap was right. The man on the cover looked like Ghost. He had a similar mask and a very similar body type. You could jump up, try to tear the book out of Soap's grip, but it would be no use, because the book wasn't in Soap's grip anymore. It was in Simon's. And you'd be silly to think you could pry anything out of those hands.

Simon took a few steps forwards until he was towering over you as you look up at him from your place on the sofa with red cheeks and fluttering eyelashes.

"This is what gets you off, love? You should have said."