I am currently accepting requests! If it says "OPEN" in my bio then please feel free to send in fic requests. If it says "CLOSED" in my bio please wait until they are open again. You can also just chat with me through my inbox if you like, even if my requests are closed!
Masterlist
Who I write for:
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Peeta Mellark
Josh Washington
Various Date Everything Characters
What content I will write:
If you do not see something that you want me to write on this list, please inbox me so I can clarify or add it in case I forgot it.
Smut (18+ only pls): no hardcore stuff, dubcon, scat, etc. If you have a question about if I will write your request please ask through my inbox
Fluff
Angst
AU: I will write AU, but please ensure you are thoroughly explaining what AU you want me to use
Could I have something cute about fat petite reader who is a bit insecure meeting simon?
Ty 🥰
Sight For Sore Eyes
Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Fat!Reader
(I wasn't sure what you meant by "meeting" Simon, so I made it so that the reader heard about him through the grapevine at work and was assigned to work with them, hope this works for you! Also I made it gn as gender wasn't specified :) I hope you like this! )
TW: Body image insecurity, anxiety, mentions of mental health awareness, suicide prevention training mentioned, unrealistic military job/life, ooc Simon
You were a resource officer for your base. This meant you had to do presentations quite often to remind people of their resource options and help people renew things like mental health awareness/suicide prevention training and general screenings. You were no stranger to being in rooms of men you did and didn't know. After a while you got to make a few friends and you had people visit your office quite often to chat or find out resource information. Being in the military also meant new people coming and old people going all the time, but when task force 141 came to your base temporarily, it was different.
It didn't take you long to notice the whispers and gossip, hushed voices in hallways and the giggles of women in the dining hall. You knew a high profile task force was at your base temporarily, but you didn't know much else until you received orders to give them a presentation on your base's resources and to renew a couple of their training certifications. They weren't available until the next week, so you went about your week normally, until you heard it. "Oh my god, he is so big," you heard a woman say in the hall. Normally you weren't so nosey, but you wanted to hear more. "I know, but that mask kinda freaks me out," you heard another voice say. Mask? "I think it's hot! I hope they stay for a while, I'd like to sink my teeth into at least one of them," the first voice said. Where they talking about the new task force? They walked down the hall and you strained to hear more but couldn't.
After that encounter, you couldn't help but eavesdrop anytime you could, casually asking coworkers and friends if they knew anything. The more you learned, the more nervous you got. You learned that Soap was a goofball, Gaz was a flirt, Price was kinda old and boring, and that Ghost was a wall of stoic muscle who was only seen wearing a skull mask. Your presentation with them was approaching and you could feel your anxiety approaching with each day that passed.
When the day finally came, you walked briskly to their presentation room, hands clammy. You were greeted by Price, who led you into the room from the hallway into a bleak room that had old folding chairs and a dinky projector screen. You knew who Ghost was immediately, you could tell by the way he made the chair look like a miniature version and how his hulking shoulders covered a much wider expanse than his team members. You could tell even with his uniform that he had hard muscles underneath his clothes. They all turned to look at you when you entered and you felt your face heat up.
You were no stranger to the fact that you were short and fat, not that it bugged you, it was just a fact of life. For some reason, having all those eyes, especially Ghost's, made you feel much more insecure than you normally did. They didn't say anything, just trailed your frame as you scurried to the front of the room. You cleared your throat, "Hi, I'm the base's resource officer. I'm gonna be telling you guys a little bit about the resources available to you here and then renew your mental health awareness/suicide prevention training, but that will be done individually." Soap was the first to speak, almost making you jump, "Go on then, pal," he smiled sweetly at you, slightly easing your nerves. You gave your presentation, stuttering at times, feeling the way Ghost's eyes bore into you. You were too aware of your body, your hair, your facial expressions, how much you were sweating just in his presence. It made you feel strange. What was it about him? You don't even know him and he's making you feel like you're in middle school again. You didn't know how you were supposed to do a one-on-one interview with him and not pass out.
When you were done with your presentation, everyone thanked you at the same time, but you could hear how Ghost's voice was deeper than anyone else's. It made you shiver. They all filed out of the room, leaving just you and Price to start. You gave him the mental health awareness pamphlet, asked how he was doing mentally, asked if he knew anyone who was struggling with their mental health or may be struggling, and then gave him a computer to use to fill out a mandatory screener and prevention test. You didn't more than needed and neither did he, but it didn't feel awkward, just calm. Next came Kyle and you did the same thing, except he was a lot more chatty than Price. He asked for your first name, how long you had been on base, and if you wouldn't mind showing him around. You giggled and told him you'd have to hang out on base a few more times before you were comfortable showing him your favorite spots, and he agreed. It seems like he took the hint that you only wanted to be friendly, nothing more. Then came Johnny and he couldn't stop with the jokes. They weren't mental health related, thank god, but his time with you took 10 minutes longer than the rest of the guys because he was such a chatter box. It really did help to relieve your jitters, until you remembered you still had to be alone with Ghost.
You found out his name was Simon in his file, but you didn't speak when he came in like you did with the others. His large frame walked silently into the room and sat down in the creaky chair. Your voice shook as you asked him the questions, heart skipping every time he answered. You wondered if he noticed your size, if he was attracted to you, or ever could be attracted to you. You were so lost in thought you didn't notice he had turned the computer around, having finished his test. "Thank you," you said quietly. "You know, I think I've got another certification test coming up," he said. "Maybe you could help me study for it." You traced the high points of his face through his mask with your eyes, trying to look at his pretty eye color without actually making eye contact. "Yea, sure. What training is it?" "Physical training," he said, no humor in his voice. "How am I supposed to help you with that," you asked, face flushing. "Give me a call and I'll tell you all about it," he said, slipping a piece of paper in your hand.
(Headcanons based on Beastars, Simon is always the bigger animal(?) in this)
TW: Anthropomorphic (?), size difference (?), suggestive content (I'm not really sure what I should or shouldn't be adding to this tbh)
Carnivore!Simon x Herbivore!Reader
Simon is a large carnivore, so being with an herbivore can look pretty intimidating to outsiders
Fortunately for both of you, Simon has learned how to control and suppress his urges to eat flesh. He kills people regularly for work, so the scent of blood and pheromones don't get to him as much as the normal carnivore
He would never make you feel weak or like prey. He understands and recognizes the issues you face as an herbivore and he does whatever he can to make sure you know you're powerful and strong
You would be lying if you didn't enjoy being taken over sometimes, there's just something about the way his canines drag over your throat that makes your body light up in ways an herbivore could never do
It's hard when it comes time to get more serious about your relationship, even people you don't know think they have a say in what's best for you, but you work through it
Simon makes sure that whenever he's feeling extra worked up or protective, he calms down first before getting physically close to you. He knows the level of self-control he has, but he would hate it if he accidentally hurt or scared you. He loves your big, hyper-aware eyes and he would hate if they looked at him with fear or disgust
You like biting him, even if it doesn't leave any marks
Herbivore!Simon x Carnivore!Reader
Don't let Simon's "prey" status fool you, he's the most aggressive herbivore you've ever met
Simon is very freaky, he loves it when you mark him up with your claws or fangs, it makes him feel light-headed knowing you could kill him with one hard bite
He also likes being dominant, knowing he has the power to control a carnivore's body in such a way
Simon will absolutely fight anyone who thinks they have the right to talk poorly to you because of your relationship dynamic
He refuses to let you feel any less feminine because you're a carnivore and encourages you to let your guard down so he can take care of you, but never in a condescending way, he knows you can hold your own
Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed of being an herbivore with a carnivore, he is even more self-assured. He can only imagine the level of control you must have to be with him and that effort alone proves to him you love him
He 100% brags about you to other people, talking about how naturally strong and powerful you are
Simon is a very quiet man. Not because he doesn't have much to say or doesn't care, he just lives in his head. He often replays the most recent recon or interesting interaction, wondering what would've happened if it went different.
He really likes nice views. He doesn't just ponder newer experiences, but older ones, too. He wonders what he would've been if he had a healthy, stable childhood.
Simon doesn't like killing. Believe it or not, he is extremely haunted by the look in his victims' eyes. Makes him feel like a monster even though he knows they were probably monsters themselves.
He has a very low self esteem. He only values himself as a tool for others to use, a dog that takes orders.
He doesn't have a lot of hobbies, just does what he needs to be ready for his next job. He has a small gym in his garage, small tv he barely watches, some books.
Simon eats a lot, but it's very bland food and it's the same things. Ground beef, rice, eggs, broccoli, spinach, apples, oats, tea. Easy things that he can rely on.
He really doesn't like drinking, even if he's with his team. Makes him feel like he doesn't have full control of the situation or less aware than he needs to be.
He hates his mask, but he can't seem to live without it anymore. After about a day it starts to smell and itches against his skin, but when it's off it feels like the top layer of his skin has been taken off. He has 3 that he washes and rotates through, just so he doesn't have to have a reeking piece of fabric attached to his face and nose.
He has sleep paralysis and nightmares. Whenever he's woken up by a particularly bad dream, he feels frozen, body shivering, cold sweat beading on his skin. He stays here until he can get his breathing under control and his jaw stops clenching.
He has essentially no libido. All the thoughts running through his head make it hard for him to focus on much else, let alone physical interaction with a woman. Sometimes he'll see a girl he finds attractive, and he might feel a little tingle, but soon after it goes away.
If he were to fall in love, he would self sabotage to no end. He would hate to bring the woman he loves into his sick world and it would take a lot of work to get somewhere that isn't incredibly toxic due to Simon's insecurities.
He does find joy in little things. A pretty sunrise, an exceptionally tasty cup of tea, hearing his neighbors children squeal and giggle when they play outside, a night of rest without a nightmare.
He loves a hot shower, so hot it turns his skin red and makes it tingly when he steps out. It makes him feel as clean as he can, though in his eyes, his hands will always be dripping with red.
He has random decor from his team members, a flag from Soap, a mug from Gaz, and a throw blanket from Price.
(So I realized that the reason tumblr gave me a text limit is because I don't use paragraphs...so this didn't need to be a series 😭 now that I figured that out, we should be good moving forward lmaoo)
TW: NSFW, P in V, grabbing/squishing, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, finishing inside, attention from random man that isn't Simon
You gave Simon a second to have a view of your backside before turning around to face him. You feigned surprise when you saw his large frame, "Oh! Good morning, Simon. I was just rearranging some things," you said before you started making your way behind your desk. "Morning," he said gruffly, "I need to make an appointment, please." "Okay! What for" you asked, slightly pushing your arms into your sides as you typed into your computer, trying to enhance your chest. You heard him stifle cough, "I need a doctor's appointment. Messed my hand up while sparring," he said, raising his hand to show his busted, purple knuckles. "Oh my gosh! That looks pretty bad," you said, standing to look at it closer. "Not too bad, Price is just being particular about us getting checked out recently." You hummed as you sat back down, finishing up his appointment as he stood quietly. Simon thanked God your desk was tall, otherwise the bulge in his pants would be well within your view. He willed his heart to stop beating so quick and his hands to stop sweating, but it was hard when he was staring at a pretty thing such as yourself. "Okay, Simon, I got you in with Doctor Sanchez at 3 pm today. Does that work?" "Yea, that's fine. Thanks, Love." Before you could register what he said, he was already down the hall. "Love"? Simon almost smacked himself in the head, why the hell would he call you that? Sure, he had always appreciated your "good morning" and "have a nice night" and sure, he had always noticed your more than appealing appearance, but he didn't know you. Besides, he couldn't be more than coworkers with you even if he wanted, it just wasn't in the cards for him. After you shook yourself out of your stunned state from his pet name for you, you rebuttoned your top and spent the rest of the day in a flushed daze. You had to have that happen again, you needed that and more.
The next few days you amped up the "sex factor", but only in ways that could be covered when Simon wasn't there. No, you couldn't cover your curves (well, you could, but you didn't want to), but you could wear a semi see-through white blouse that showed off your lacy black bra underneath that was covered by a blazer jacket when buttoned up and you could wear an exceptionally delicious skirt that hugged everywhere perfectly, and this is exactly what you wore when Simon finally snapped. The previous few days Simon didn't show you much attention, willing his gaze to be straight in front of him, only nodding at you in acknowledgement. This outfit was your last attempt before calling it quits. You unbuttoned your blazer to reveal your sheer blouse right before Simon walked in and as you stood to greet him, you noticed someone walking in right behind him. Shit, this hadn't happened before. You scrambled to rebutton your blazer, but it was too late, both men where in front of your desk. "Good morning," you said meekly, sweat slightly beading on your brow. Simon was going to beeline past you again, until he heard the nasally voice of the man behind him. "Hey there, doll. You like mighty fine today," he said slimily. His voice gave you chills, and not the good kind. "Thanks," you said curtly, trying to get him to leave. The random guy was about to walk up to your desk, but Simon cut him off, using his body as a shield in front of your desk. "I need an appointment," he said, his voice more annoyed than usual. You heard the other man scoff before going wherever he needed to be. You felt hot at the sudden attention and began typing on your computer, but Simon interrupted you. "It's not the kind of appointment you schedule on the computer," he said. Simon was not one to ogle mindlessly, but he was one to show when something was or needed to be his, so his eyes flitted from your chest, tummy, thighs, hips, face, and hands. "I'm not sure what you mean," you said softly, fully aware of his wandering eyes. "I need to make an appointment with you," he stated. "Would you happen to have an opening in your schedule after work tonight to come to my place?" You immediately clammed up, speechless. Simon Riley, the scariest, sexiest man you've ever known was asking you out. You cleared your throat and made eye contact, "Yes, I am available for a date tonight." "Good. Don't bother changing, just come right over. Here's my address," he wrote down his address and walked away. If you spent the first day in a daze, you spent this shift in an alternate dimension, your body buzzing. You didn't see Simon walk out, but it could've been during your 15 minute break you saved for the end of the day to freshen up before you left, using every compact item you owned to freshen yourself up before you went to his house.
On your drive there, you felt how sweaty you were, your hands sliding on the wheel. You felt sick with nervousness. You walked up to his door on shaky legs, the door opening before you knocked. There Simon stood, in a black tee shirt that hugged his muscles gorgeously, gray sweatpants that hugged his hips, and his signature mask. "Come in," he said, stepping aside for you. His house was sparsely decorated, but it was clean and inviting. You stood by the door, not sure where to go. "Take a seat," he said, motioning to the couch. You sat down, trying to make your body as small as possible, feeling like you were prey in a predator's den. "Thanks for having me over," you said shyly, not making eye contact. "Well, it's not like I was the one to initiate this," Simon said, sitting next to you. "What do you mean?" you asked, finally turning to face him. "You think I didn't notice? All those skimpy outfits you wore, the way you suddenly started standing up to greet me, bending over right when I walked by? I think you forget my position. I'm trained to notice things and I noticed your attempts to get me riled up," he said casually, his arms resting on the top of the couch. You nearly choked on your spit, "I have no idea what you're talking about," you denied, feeling like you were gonna pass out. "You're a bad liar. We need to work on that." "Why?" "Well, after tonight, I was hoping we'd be able to go an another date." Simon knew the second he saw another man notice your beauty, he couldn't watch you be with anyone else. No, he didn't know you, but he would eventually. "What's gonna happen tonight?" "Well, for starters, you're going to admit you lied and tell me how all those little outfits and stunts were for me. What happens after that is up to you."
You could feel his eyes boring into you and your mouth suddenly felt drier than it ever had before, but you couldn't help but notice the moistening between your legs. "I lied. It was all for you. I think you're the most attractive man I've ever seen and I wanted you to be attracted to me, too," you said, looking away. Simon chuckled, and your head snapped towards him. "You've never seen my face, how do you know I'm attractive?" "I can tell." Simon hummed before moving to sit right next to you, grabbing a piece of your hair to toy with. "Well, we've got the first step over with. Whatever happens now is up to you," he comes close to whisper in your ear, "but if it were up to me, I'd fuck the life outta you. Those outfits really did something to me, lovey. You have no idea how hard it was to not drag you to the closet and eat your sweet cunt for hours." You looked like a deer in headlights, but you knew it was now or never. You bit your lip and lunged for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your glossy lips to his clothed ones. It was a sensory nightmare, but you didn't care, because he soon lifted the bottom of his mask to kiss you with his bare lips. You felt your legs shake as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. You felt the way his thick member throbbed against his sweatpants, and you moved to hike your skirt up even higher to press your wet panties onto him. He let out a sigh as you rocked your hips against his, a dark patch forming on the top of his sweats. "Can I eat your sweet pussy?" You nodded breathlessly before he laid you down on the couch, making his way down your body.
Your whole body shook as you felt his calloused hands on you. "So gorgeous. I fucking love your body," he said before pushing your legs apart at your knees and shoving his face against your clothes center. Your back arched as you felt his nose and mouth prod against your clit, tongue flattening over your clothed folds. He let go of your knees to tear open your stockings and panties, revealing your glistening folds. "So pretty," he said, kissing your jiggly inner thighs before making out with your pussy. His hands came underneath your thick thighs, resting them on his shoulders so that your heels dug into his back. He rocked his hips into the couch as he listened to your pretty moans and gasps, reveling in the way your heeled shoes scraped his back. "S-Simon," you whined, "Yes?" you mumbled into you, barely stopping his ministrations. "Fuck me, please," "Only since you asked so nicely." He gave your clit a light slap that had you jumping before lining his hips up with yours. He grabbed the front of your blazer and shirt in one, tearing both of them open to reveal your bra. "My clothes," you whined. "I'll buy you more," he said, shoving your bra down to reveals your boobs, tweaking your nipples with rough fingers. He pulled your skirt down to reveal your pudgy tummy before sliding his sweats down and revealing his perfect cock. It was thick and long, the tip an angry red, sticky with precum. "Please," you begged softly.
He bottomed out, fighting against the way your walls clamped up. He groaned, thrusting shallowly to work you open, hands grabbing desperately at your plush sides. You panted, feeling like you were being split in half in the most delicious way. When he finally thought you were worked enough to not hurt you, he started his merciless rhythm, pulling almost all the way back before slamming right back in. You cried out as he fucked into you, your thighs locking around him. "So pretty, just for me," he moaned, loving the way his balls heavily slapped against your ass. You couldn't do anything but moan in pleasure as you took him, his pelvis grinding into your clit. "Si-I'm gonna!" before you could finish your sentence, Simon sped up, wanting to bring you to your release, "Cum inside me! Please, Simon!" That pushed him over the edge, moaning as he spilled his cum inside your cunt. You shivered at the way it felt, feeling more connected than ever. He collapsed on top of you, sweaty body nearly crushing you. "Next time, you gotta sit on my face and suffocate me with these thighs" he mumbled into your chest.
Request: Wait cause can you do Simon Riley, some slapping (from the reader mainly) slight cnc (if you want idk) plot doesn’t really matter but if you can start it with something sweet and then boom nsfw, idk if that’s too vague 😭😭😔✌️
Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
(OKAY Y'ALL I DO NOT ENDORSE ABUSE! Yes, the title is a LDR reference and ik what the song is about, it just fits the fic 😭 also I'm not super well versed in the CNC space so I hope this is somewhat accurate. Thank you queen for the request, I hope you like it @nickelthrift <3 also I saw you used "she" in a follow up comment, so this will be AFAB!F!Reader)
TW: NSFW, CNC (safe word not used), slapping, choking, tears (good ones), P in V, slightly sub Simon and slightly dom reader, accusations of being flirty, jealous!Simon, cussing
It was supposed to just be a chill night at Johnny's new place, using his house warming party as a type of date night for you and Simon. It was super nice at first, you got to talk with Johnny's fiancee about furniture, job changes with the move, etc and Simon was able to hang out with his friends and drink a few beers. It wasn't until the end of the night where things got more lively, as some of Johnny's new neighbors decided to pay a visit, even though the gathering had been going on for quite a while. You smiled as couples introduced themselves and talked to Johnny and his fiancee, welcoming them to the neighborhood. It was a fun time! The new couples were all very extroverted and had no issues cracking jokes, playing card games, and they played some pretty nice music. Simon seemed to be having a good time, too, though you could tell his mask was slightly unnerving to those who didn't know him. It had reached a point in the night where you knew nothing good would happen if you stayed (Johnny and the other boys setting up another round of cup pong was a clear indication of that), so you said your goodbye's and started the drive home. It was so late and you were so tired that you didn't notice the slight tension in the air that Simon was throwing out.
When you got home, you groaned and took your shoes off, feeling relieved that your feet could rest. "That was fun," you said sweetly. "I'm glad you thought so," Simon said with a weird tone. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Oh, nothing, just glad you thought it was fun to flirt right in front of me and my team." You stopped putting your things away and walked up to Simon who had made his way to your bedroom. You were mad, "What did you say?" "Don't deny it. I've never seen you be so obviously attracted to someone before," Simon said rudely, turning his back to you to take his mask off and put it away. Your neck, chest, and face burned as you scowled at the back of his head. What the fuck is he talking about? Simon had a habit of self sabotaging and normally you knew to either work through it with him, or ignore it if it was small, but right now, you were pissed. Having a fun night and socializing with people did not warrant this reaction from him and you were grouchy enough to let it get to you. When he turned around to face you, you did something that caught you both off guard. You slapped him across his face, hard enough to make it snap to the side. You didn't say sorry, didn't do anything but watch his reaction with a frown on your face. He rubbed his cheek and turned to look at you with...desire?
You almost screamed when he grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto the bed. "Simon, what the hell do you think you're doing?! You just sat there insulting me by insinuating I was flirting with another ma-" before you could finish your sentence, he had climbed on top of you and crashed his mouth to yours. Your hands struggled to push him off of you, and it's not like you really wanted him to stop, because if you did, all you had to do was tap him 3 times (or say your safe word, but your mouth was a little occupied). When you got tired of his assault on your face, you did the only logical thing you could and slapped him again, hard. Simon reeled back a bit, just to let out a groan. You felt his thick cock through his jeans press against you as he hiked your legs around his waist. "God, keep doing that," he huffed, his cheek an angry red. He flipped the both of you so that you were on top, straddling his lap, your center grinding on his clothed length. There was no stopping at this point. You were angry and horny and the man that got you this worked up asked you to slap him again, so you did. Not as hard as the last two, and it was on the other cheek, but it was enough for Simon to bite his lip, screw his eyes shut, and buck up into you. He grabbed you by the throat, squeezing the sides, and brought your lips to his. This time your kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, both of you fighting for dominance. You broke the kiss and made your way down his body, unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans and underwear down in one motion. His thick, red cock slapped his lower stomach, the tip leaking precum. You grabbed him and put the tip in your mouth as you looked up at him. You hollowed your mouth and relaxed your throat as you took all of him. His hands found your hair and he started bucking into your throat, hisses and curses falling from his mouth. He released your hair with one hand to give you a light slap on your cheek. The burn was good. It stung just enough to make your eyes burn and you loved it. You popped off his member, a string of saliva connecting you until it broke. You climbed back up his body, but before you could pull your panties to the side, thank God for dresses, Simon flipped you over again. "Such a fucking brat," he said while pulling your panties off of you, "can't keep your hands to yourself." He lined himself up with your cunt and bottomed out without warning. You both moaned as he set a brutal pace, pounding into you. "Simon!" you whined, right before he gave you another light slap on your cheek. Your back arched at the feeling, the coil inside you tightening with each thrust.
"Hit me," Simon groaned, lowering his face to be close to yours. You slapped him again, your weakest one yet, as the way his pelvis ground against your clit made you see stars. "Harder," he begged, his thrusts getting sloppy. You struggled to focus, tears clouding your vision as you grew near your release. You slapped him as hard as you could, not sure if you even landed it on his cheek. Simon nearly sobbed as he shoved his head in the crook of your neck, his thrusts quickening. He slammed into you once more before you both came, you biting his shoulder and him biting your neck. You both laid there in the other's embrace, hearts trying to settle, breathing trying to be leveled. "You're so kinky," you huffed "You love it."
(Father!Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mother!Wife!Reader)
Request: Simon develops insomnia, but not because of nightmares, but because of the large baby he and his wife had together. He has completely taken over night feedings and stoically tries not to sleep during the day. @meriessan
(Thank you so much for your request, shawty! I hope this is what you were looking for!)
TW: Lack of sleep, stress, insomnia
Before you and Simon had decided to have a baby together, you both agreed the work would be as equal as possible. This meant he would do the night feeds, so that you could sleep and get yourself on a steady schedule. When you gave birth, it was very stressful for Simon as your labor went on longer than expected. You cussed him out more than you ever had, cursing him for being so big and making you have a baby with such a big head. When everything was said and done, you had a healthy 10 pound baby boy in your hands. It took you a couple of days to recover, but when you got home, it was bliss. You were able to bask in the joys of having a newborn baby during the day, watching the way his eyes fluttered, smelling his soft hair that matched his father's perfectly, and listened to the sweet noises he made. Sure, he ate a lot, but he was a newborn and you were prepared for that. When you were awake, Simon made sure you had everything you needed and felt supported. Something Simon hadn't mentioned was that it had been hard for him to sleep since you brought the baby home. The baby crying every 1-2 hours made it hard to fall asleep and even if the baby wasn't crying so often, he still couldn't sleep. He either watched the baby in his room, ensuring he was still breathing or was staring at the monitor. Sure, he knew that there were dangers from his job, but his main focus was making sure his baby was okay throughout the night. Simon knew he shouldn't, but sometimes when he felt more anxious than normal, he would scoop up his baby in his arms and hold him while he slept. Simon fully believes any beauty his baby had came from you, even though the baby was a spitting image of himself. For a few days, Simon was okay with the lack of sleep, having done this several times before for work. It was hard for you to notice, as Simon didn't say anything to you and you were so focused on your baby you didn't take the time to stare at Simon's face to notice his bloodshot eyes and darkening under eye. Simon refused to sleep during the day, wanting to be fully supportive of you and your baby, but it didn't take long for this to start taking a toll. On day 3, he had started to hear the baby crying at around midnight. When he went to feed him, the baby was sound asleep. Simon rubbed his eyes and sat down in the baby's room until he actually woke up and needed to be changed. When the morning came, and you took over with the baby, he went to make breakfast. He thought he was doing a great job until he smelled smoke and the fire alarm started blaring. "Simon," you shouted, "is everything alright?!" "Yes, love! Had the heat on too high, sorry!" He realized he had fallen asleep standing up. When he finally made you both something edible, he sat down at the dining table and waited for you to join him. Simon was so out of it, he didn't notice the way you were studying his face, concerned. "Si?" "Yes, doll?" "Have you not been sleeping?" His eyes shot towards your face and he hated the way the light stung his eyes. "I don't want you to worry about me, you need to focus on healing," "Simon Riley, don't patronize me. Have you been sleeping?" Sometimes you needed to be a little stern with Simon when he was being stubborn. "No, I haven't," he sighed, leaning into his chair, "he wakes up so often that I figured I might as well stay up. I like watching him, making sure he's okay." "Love, you need to start sleeping, at least during the day," you said, rocking the bouncy chair your baby was laid in. "What if you need something? I want to be here for you," he whispered, grabbing your hand from across the table. "I'll just wake you up if I need anything," you said softly. "Besides, you won't be any use to us if you're so tired you're burning the house down." Simon licked his lips, "You're right. I'm gonna go lay down." He got up and kissed your head, "Love you." "Love you more," you said, watching his heavy body walk to your bedroom. It took a while, but you two got onto a schedule that worked for everyone.
simon riley x chubby secretary reader who pushes the line everyday with her outfits until he finally says something/ does something?
—🃏
The Secretary
Part 2
(Yes, the title is a reference to the movie, hehe Thank you for requesting, lovey! I hope this is what you were wanting :) )
TW:Suggestive content, normally if you worked on base you have to be in uniform, but this is my fic so I'm bending the rules, lol)
Simon is a man with self-control. He doesn't ogle any woman that he sees, and even when he does see someone he finds attractive, he still doesn't really do more than glance. Sure, he's seen you everyday for the past year when he walks in from the front door and walks passed your desk and he's noticed just how nice your military assigned clothes hugged your curves and accentuated your already curvaceous hips, but he never stops to talk unless he needs something. You deal with the appointment side of things and the 141 members/other enlisted service members only really speak to you when they have to schedule an appointment with their doctor, dentist, therapist, etc. It's easier if they come to you rather than trying to do it themselves and add more stress to their lives. You also handle records, deal with payroll issues, and help captains such as Price manage meetings with other higher-ups. You do a lot, but you don't mind. Sometimes if you're able to pull an appointment out of your ass for someone, they'll buy you lunch or bring you flowers to say "thanks" and they're overall nice to the person who schedules their appointments. The two times you and Simon have talked were right when you first became the secretary and were a frazzled mess. It was hard for you to notice the way Simon smirked at your jumbled speech and nervousness and it was hard for him not to notice how attractive you are. Since then you've only shared a smile (from your end) and a nod (from his) when he comes in for the day and a meek, "Have a nice night," when he leaves. It was both a shock and pleasant surprise when you got an email Sunday morning about a change in the dress code policy. You could finally wear civilian clothes to work, as long as no cleavage showed, your skirts were lower than your knees, and you wore appropriate shoes. You spent a massive amount of money getting brand new outfits for work and you loved it. The way the clothes hugged your body in a way your uniform never could was amazing and it encouraged you to put more effort into your hair and makeup, just to complete the look. On Monday, you came in with a slightly lower than your knees black pencil skirt, with sheer black stockings, a tight pink button up shirt, with short black heels. The first thing you noticed was how many more stares you got as people went to their jobs for the day and how suddenly many more people needed to cancel/reschedule/make appointments. All of the women you normally chat a little more with complimented you and said how jealous they were that they couldn't dress up like you now. You just smiled and thanked them, the attention causing your neck and face to heat up. Simon had noticed your new outfit when he walked in as you were occupied with someone else, and he couldn't help but notice the strain in his pants as he watched you bend over to grab a file, your plump ass filling his view. He furrowed his brow and kept walking, but you noticed the way he took a bit longer than normal to walk past your desk, and you loved the way it made you feel. Since you had never seen his face before and didn't really talk, it was hard to decide if you wanted to pursue him, but now you knew you wanted to. It didn't take a genius to know he was an attractive man. You saw his hulking frame, heard his deep voice, saw the gorgeous color of his eyes, and could outline the high-points of his face through his mask. You wanted him, now. A mischievous thought crossed your mind and you knew it was perfect. Fortunately for you, whenever Simon wasn't deployed, he came in at 7:30 on the dot every morning. The next day, you wore dark blue slacks that hugged your hips, thighs, and butt with a matching blazer and your heels. Your nerves were sparking and you nearly jumped when you saw 7:29 on your clock. You unbuttoned the top button of your blazer, just enough for the front of your chest and cleavage to show and you got up to "rearrange" the forms you had at the front of your desk for people to take. Your heart dropped when you heard the door open.
TBC (sorry lol, this is gonna be a series now </3 I promise I'll finish this soon!)
Your dinner with Simon went well. He finally told you about his job in the military and that he had to be careful with who he shared his true identity and face with. You told him how you were able to get such a gorgeous sear on the fish you made and how you knew so much about cooking/baking. Simon held your gaze to the point you felt faint at times, never had a man really made you feel seen like he did. Simon didn't add much commentary, but you knew he was listening with the way he nodded his head as you spoke. When the night was over, he helped you tidy up (well, as much as he could given the tight squeeze of your kitchen.) You just about jumped out of your skin when you felt a large hand on the small of your back as he moved behind you, sweat beading near your hairline, face and neck hot. When it was time for him to go, you two stood at an awkward distance, not sure how to bid each other farewell. What he did next shook you to your core. As you stared up at him standing at your front door, he raised his mask to reveal his pink lips that had a small scar on the top, he grabbed your clammy hand, raised it to his mouth, and placed a sweet, warm kiss on the top of it. "Thank you for this. It was perfect, love." Jesus Christ, you could die in this moment and be happy forever. He let go of your hand to pull his mask down, and you instantly missed the way your soft skin felt in his large, calloused hand. "You're welcome," you let out breathily. "I'm free next Saturday if you wanted to pop over, I'd like to cook something for you sometime, though it won't be nearly as good as yours," "Yes! I mean, yeah, I'm free." He smiled and turned to walk back to his house across the street. You quietly closed your door and watched him from your window. He knew you were watching and smirked at the way the memory of your face when he kissed your hand played through his mind. You guys texted as the day of your date (?) approached. While he didn't become as expressive as you would've liked through text, he started sending corny jokes and picked up a new habit of calling you "love". When Saturday finally came around, you were stressing out of your mind. You had picked a sweet summer dress that had a lace up back, cream base color, and small flower details throughout the fabric. You had to redo your makeup at least twice as the sweat coming off your skin made you look like you were melting. Not wanting to come empty handed, you brought over a box of lemon squares and walked over at 7pm sharp, your heart beating so fast it could power a small car. When Simon opened the door, the first thing you noticed was his wide eyes, more frazzled than you have ever seen before, then came the smell of burning. "Um, hi, love. Come in," he said quickly before rushing back to where his kitchen was. "Oh my goodness, what happened?" "Well, I tried making this pasta thing, but it didn't go so well," he said as he dumped a smoking pan of something into his sink with cold running water. You looked away from him, hearing the clear embarrassment in his voice and noticed his small table that had a much too big table cloth on it with a small vase that held one rose. You smiled sweetly at this and placed your box on his counter, approaching him from behind where he was still standing at the sink. You placed a gentle hand on his bicep and felt the hard muscle underneath your fingers twitch. "It's okay, accidents happen," you said quietly and sweetly. "We can order takeout." His deep voice rumbled from his chest, "I'm sorry. I wanted to do something for you, like you've been doing for me." He turned around, grabbing your hand from his bicep to hold it in his, his blush clear on his neck and creeping towards his eyes. "Well, homemade dinner may not be in our cards tonight, but there is something you can do for me," you said coyly, rubbing your thumb on top of his hand. "Anything." "You can tell me your name." Simon let in a large breath and held it for a second, his gaze now distant. "I can give you something even better," he said after a moment and led you to his couch.
Simon isn't a picky man, but boy does he go wild for a chick with some cushion for the pushin (Yes, this is self-indulgent)
TW: Sexual content (No body dysmorphia, because all bodies are beautiful and I don't wanna feed into the idea that all chubby people are unhappy with their bodies)
Simon loves that you're softer than him. Staring at the boxy silhouettes of his male teammates only makes him miss your curves that much more
He loves going clothes shopping with you, just to see your gorgeous body in so many different outfits, and he truly believes you could make a potato sack sexy
Massages are his favorite, because he likes to feel your soft, clean hands on his rigid, marred body, but also because he feels like a pastry chef. Rolling out your skin and knots hidden underneath soft, squishy flesh
Cuddling is amazing and he loves resting his head anywhere on your body while you run your fingers through his short hair (he especially loves your chest or thighs)
When you guys sleep, he loves being the big spoon so he can rest his hand on your soft tummy and pull you in closer
When he's feeling especially silly, he likes to use you as gym equipment, easily using you as squatting, push-up, or bench-press weight. He tries really hard not to drop you, but it's hard when you're squealing and giggling at the way he holds you and tries to balance your body properly
Simon adores any and every type of sex position you guys try, he loves the way the fat of your hips cushion the harsh grasp of his hands, he loves the way he can feel your whole body shake and jiggle when he eats you out or is giving you backshots
He will do anything he can to get you in a bathing suit, though it doesn't stay on for very long before he's pulling you along to get home asap
Whenever he's been gone for work, you like to buy pretty lingerie sets with frills, sparkles, lace, and sweet little details that you know Simon loves (one time you got a set that had his name engraved on it, you're still not sure how you didn't get pregnant that night) you try not to get expensive ones, since they usually end up torn or stained
Simon truly isn't sure how he managed to get a girl as gorgeous as you, and whenever he sees, reads, or hears about perfection, love, softness, and overwhelming adoration for someone, he can't help but to think of you
(Note: I've been on a date everything kick, so when I was cleaning my house earlier, I thought about how grateful some objects would be to get a good scrub)
TW: Suggestive
Dunk Shuttlecock (He's first because he's my hubby and doesn't get enough written for him)
Dunk is literally workout equipment, so he's no stranger to getting sweaty and dirty (he enjoys it a little too much sometimes)
Most of him can't be fully submerged in water, but he enjoys it when his resistance bands and other waterproof items are dunked in warm, soapy water
He really enjoys the way your hands massage into him and how your fingers get into all of his grooves
Believe it or not, but when he's not in a "workout" mindset, he is really ticklish, so don't be surprised if you hear a faint giggle or the equipment in your hand fidgets a little bit
The things that can't get too wet usually get the disinfectant wipe treatment
Dunk really appreciates it when you take the time to warm up the wipes between your hands before using them
That man runs WARM, so if you use a fresh wipe without warming it up, he'll jump and squeal at the sudden ice-cold touch
Whenever you manage to get him naked, you always take the opportunity to throw his washable clothing items into Washford for a heavy-duty cycle and clean the non-washable items as best as you can
Due to the fact that he makes up so many pieces of equipment, it usually takes you a while to fully clean every part of him. Whenever you do get done cleaning him, he takes a day or two off from any heavy workouts, so you both can bask in his cleanliness
He thanks you with a nice massage (he massages himself a lot to avoid cramps, so he's pretty skilled) and the best cuddles you could imagine
(After his couple of days off and he's comfortable getting dirty again, he shows you how grateful he is by getting a different type of dirty with you)
Johnny Splash (Hubby pt.2 )
Everyone assumes that because he's where you go to get clean, that he is clean himself
While he does keep himself as clean as he can with his water pressure coaxing your hair to his drain, sometimes he needs a good scrub
The leftover soap and water stains won't clean themselves, so you use a very gentle, very lightly scented cleaner and a soft sponge to clean him off
He's not as ticklish as he's used to water dripping down his tiles and your hair brushing up against him, so you use a bit of elbow grease to get his tiles sparkling
He will 100% flirt with you and praise you/your work the entire time
He will also sing you some songs, whether you ask him to or not (we all know he isn't the best singer, but you love him so much that even the best singer in the world couldn't compete with his voice that you've grown so fond of)
"Hubba hubba, you keep touching me like that, sweet thing, and we're gonna get down right filthy"
You take the time to clean his hardware, soaking the shower head and anything else that can be removed
He brags to anyone and everyone about how good you are to him and you're the reason love songs exist in the first place
Cam
Given the fact that he's literally a trashcan, Cam is no stranger to being dirty and smelly. In fact, he can get pretty defensive when he's not. He wonders if there's something wrong with him, but that soon changes when you ravage him before his cleaning.
"Hey! Don't touch that!" "I know, I know, I'm just moving it to the side."
While he will give in after some loving from you, there are still boundaries that shouldn't be crossed (like getting rid of his favorite trash)
You give him a brand new, black bag (unscented) and make sure all his metal parts are so shiny you can see yourself in the reflection
He's very shy at first, not liking how you gawk at his squeaky clean appearance, but he gets dirty again quite quickly ; )
(I've been MIA for like a year 😭 sorry y'all :3 I have one week of finals left and I should be able to put out some more work)
(^ I actually never finished this and am now just past midterms in a new semester :D sorry y'all)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x CollegeStudent!Reader Headcanons
TW: Stress, anxiety
You and Simon met while he was on your campus advertising the armed forces
Simon and Price had a booth with flyers and a pull-up bar to get engagement. As you walked by, you couldn't help but notice the crowd that had gathered as they watched a random student attempt 15 pull-ups
You heard other girls whispering about a "man in a mask" and how it was their dream to get manhandled by him. Naturally, you shuffled your way to the side of the crowd to see Price encouraging the student while Simon watched from the side, arms crossed and silent.
You thought it was really strange that he was wearing the mask, so you walked up to him and asked, "Why are you wearing that mask?"
He turned to face you and dropped his hands to his hips, "To hide my face." You simply nodded your head in silent understanding and walked away to get to your next class.
Simon couldn't help but to be intrigued by the way you asked him about his mask. No flirting, no embarrassment, no rudeness, just curiosity. He also really liked how you walked away once you got your answer, a woman of little words (he would soon find out this isn't normal for you.)
He tracked you down fairly easy and asked you out on a date, curious to see if your cool demeanor seeped into every part of your life.
While it may have been your initial ease of interaction that drew him in, it was your interesting view of life, knowledge of your major, goofiness, and tenderness that kept him there.
For a while he would visit you in your cramped apartment (they were cheaper than the dorms) and bring you the essentials. Food, new clothes, self-care items. You begged him not to, but as a broke college student, you were pretty easy to crack.
You learned about his job and trauma, he learned about yours (he was fairly surprised you stayed with him once you learned everything, but nothing could keep you away from that man)
Once that semester ended, you moved into his much larger apartment that wasn't too much further from campus, though you didn't mind the commute.
Now, you're at the end of your very last semester before you graduate and finals week is kicking your ass.
Simon has learned through various exams and other times of educational crises what helps you the most.
He helps you study when he can, sometimes he's at work and has to log into your school account from his base computer to help you over the phone, or prepares study materials for you. This isn't your favorite way of being helped, but Simon knows it's necessary for success.
When he is physically around to help, he gives you massages, takes you out for small coffee breaks, and gives you a shoulder to cry on or to bite if you're feeling extra frustrated.
He's never been an academic, so he struggles to understand the level of stress you're under. He'll call up another member of 141 to see if they can aid you or offer advice (sometimes they come over with a case of your favorite drink and try to help you with whatever you're struggling with)
Whatever you want, need, or desire reaches you within 24 hours.
Simon will leave sweet sticky notes around your apartment to encourage you. Don't worry about working (unless you want to), Simon pays for everything you need (including all of your student loans). He rubs your head while you sleep, making sure your gorgeous mind is getting all the rest it needs. Simon also enjoys basking in your peacefulness that he knows will be gone by morning.
Something you don't notice, though, is the adoration in his eyes while you furrow your brow and bite the skin of your bottom lip when doing your work. He's jealous you have something to be so passionate about, but he also knows now that you're what he's passionate about.
When your finals are over and you've submitted your last exam, he grabs you up and spins you around while you cling to him, surprised you lasted through your finals. He takes you to a gorgeous early dinner and a walk along a riverfront path. The sun is still out, warming your skin, when you turn around and see Simon on one knee, a gorgeous ring box in his hands, and the most gorgeous ring you've ever seen snuggled tightly within it.
(Author's Note: I haven't written in so long, I hope this isn't hot garbage. I know my formatting is probably off too, but I hope y'all enjoyed reading :p )
In Josh’s shattered psyche, your presence is synonymous with safety, comfort, and truth —the only clean memory he has from that night.
Everyone else is tainted in his mind, even Chris, who he still loves but now carries the stench of betrayal. But you, you were there when the world burned. You held him. You didn’t laugh. You didn’t lie. You didn’t abandon him like the rest did.
That matters more to Josh than anything. It becomes a pillar of reality he can always return to.
“You didn’t play the game. So you get to stay in it.”
This is the foundation of the black-and-white thinking he spirals into post-tragedy. The classic BPD dichotomy of splitting: people are either all good or all bad. You’re the all good. His lifeboat. His living proof that there’s something —someone— still human and kind in this world.
But this isn’t just romantic. It’s existential. He builds his sanity around you. You’re his reality check, his reward system, his emotional stability.
It’s unhealthily intense. But to Josh, it’s the only way to survive.
Before Beth and Hannah’s deaths, Josh’s behavior around you was already laced with quiet longing:
♱ he was constantly stealing glances at you.
♱ his humor was louder around you: performative, trying to impress, especially when drinking.
♱ he’d find excuses to linger beside you, brush shoulders, compliment you in playful, half-serious ways.
♱ but when drunk? His restraint lowered. A kiss —messy and one-sided— was a moment he vaguely remembers but never forgets emotionally.
♱ and you didn’t kiss him back. You let him take what his dazed mind needed, then held him like something delicate.
♱ That moment became symbolic to him: you didn’t want anything from him. You were just there.
After the deaths, you were the one thing he didn’t push away.
♱ you saw him scream, shake, cry, rage.
♱ you stayed through the yelling.
♱ you didn’t justify the others’ actions. You didn’t try to rationalize. You just held him.
From that point on, Josh latched onto you with a ferocity he barely understood.
Hypervigilance: He keeps tabs on you constantly. Where you are, how you’re feeling, whether you’ve eaten. His brain has coded you as essential. His anxiety spikes if you’re too far away for too long.
Affection-Seeking Behavior: He needs your physical touch like oxygen. Hand-holding, leaning into your lap, brushing hair behind your ear, nuzzling your shoulder —he seeks it not just for comfort but to feel real.
Over-Attachment: He becomes dependent. Not always clingy, but possessively soft. If you hug someone else, his smile falters. If someone makes you cry, his anger becomes volcanic, even if it’s one of your closest friends.
Sexual Reassurance: When you become lovers, his libido is obsessive —not because he wants to dominate, but because he needs to be needed by you. Sex isn’t purely lustful; it’s desperate, pleading. Even when he’s rough or aggressive, the undertone is “please still want me. please still love me.”
His physical behavior during intimacy: He initiates, always. But for dominance? No —for validation. You’re his safe space and his drug. He seeks that high through closeness, moaning your name like a plea. He’s very vocal, praising you, begging you, whispering “you’re mine” and “I’m yours, right?” with a terrifying softness.
Josh doesn’t just love you. He idolizes you. But that idolization isn’t distant, it’s carnal and raw and needy. You’re not up on a pedestal, you’re his lifeline.
To Josh, you are:
♱ his redemption. If you still love him, he can't be all bad.
♱ his mirror. When he’s lost in hallucinations, you are the only voice that cuts through: your words, your scent, your hands.
♱ his reward. He doesn’t deserve you, but he has you, and that makes him manic with protectiveness.
♱ his grounding point. He loses time, he hears voices, he sees his sisters’ corpses walking —but when you touch his cheek, the noise stops.
So he becomes... yours. Not in words, but in every action. Not in a healthy way, but in a trauma-coded, feral, almost primal attachment.
“If you’re gone, I don’t know what I’ll do. I mean that. I’ll break. You get that, right?”
You’re his sanity. So when he starts his cruel revenge plot, he carefully leaves you out of it.
Not out of guilt —out of fear.
He knows you’d disapprove, and he cannot afford to see disgust or rejection in your eyes. So he splits you off from the group early in the night. Sends you on a made-up errand. Or gently convinces you to take a bath, stay cozy, wait for him.
He even lies to you if he has to, manipulating your concern so you’ll stay safe not just from danger, but from his worst self.
When it finally comes out that Josh orchestrated everything —the dummy, the blood, the screams— your reaction shatters him. Because you're not angry. You’re sad.
That look on your face? Pity? Sorrow?
It destroys him more than anything.
He tries to weaponize it, play it up like he’s unhinged but charming. He hopes your compassion will keep you close.
“Come on, babe, it was all a joke. I didn’t hurt anyone. Don’t look at me like that... please... You still love me, right?”
When he’s tied up in the shed and the others are shouting? Your presence keeps him from spiraling. You defend him enough to keep the group from leaving him out there to die.
He looks up at you from the chair with wide, hurt, betrayed eyes.
But when you brush his hair back, or just stay, his whole body slumps in relief.
You didn’t leave. Again.
Because you stayed, the Wendigo doesn’t get him. Josh’s path diverges. You’re the reason.
“I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll take the meds. I’ll do therapy. Just… don’t leave me, don't stop loving me. I won’t survive it.”
your dunk story has awakened something in me. can you please write another story featuring him?
ofc this is one of my first request so I want to take time to make it good, so please enjoy these dunk headcannons in the mean times!! I promise it well be posted very soon :)
Dunk Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)
SFW Headcanons – “BIG Wholesome Himbo Energy”
Gym Bro with a Heart of Gold:
Dunk is the type to spot you at the gym before you even ask, handing you your water bottle like he’s been waiting his whole life to do it. Encouraging, uplifting, and always has a dad-joke locked and loaded. “Hydrate or diedrate, champ.”
Physical Touch and Acts of Service is His Love Language:
A squeeze to your shoulder. A back pat that lingers. One-armed, sweaty hugs after a workout that leave you breathless in more ways than one. Even during breaks, his hand somehow finds your thigh—or your pinky hooks around his.
And when it comes to acts of service? He’s all in.
Helping you stretch, spotting your lifts, tying your shoes, hauling groceries, massaging your calves after a run—he doesn’t just do things for you, he means them. Every action says: I’m here. I care. I want you to feel good—always.
Motivational Overdrive:
You could be struggling through a single push-up and he’ll act like you just won the Olympics.
“That’s my baby!! Look at that form! Hall of Fame material!!”
Attempts to Meal Prep, Fails:
He tries to be healthy but ends up putting peanut butter on everything and calling it a day. Once offered you “a protein parfait” that was literally Greek yogurt, beef jerky, and granola in a Gatorade cup.
Sleeps like a Starfish:
Sprawls out like he’s trying to take up the whole bed and win MVP while doing it. Wears only boxers and maybe one sock. Snores lightly. Definitely mumbles in his sleep.
NSFW Headcanons: (Now stay with me here, this man is a FREAK and you can't tell me otherwise.)
Praise Kink Hall of Famer:
Everything is a cheer session.
“You’re takin’ me so good, baby.”
“Look at you—MVP of my heart.”
“Fuck, your body’s my favorite sport.”
Built Like a Tank, Fucks Like One Too:
He’s big. Thick. Always stretching you just a little too wide—but slow at first, always checking you're good before he starts really moving. He’s the type to leave you shaking and full.
Loves When You Wear His Gear:
Especially his knee pads or sweatbands. Sees you in just his jersey and malfunctions. Will bend you over the nearest bench like a post-game press conference doesn’t exist.
Very Loud. And Very Into Yours:
Grunts. Growls. Whispers “so fuckin’ hot” into your neck. But the thing that gets him off? Hearing you. The more noise you make, the more unhinged he becomes.
Into Overstimulation, But In A Loving Way:
The kind to go multiple rounds and keep you in his lap, whispering, “You can give me one more, right?” while rubbing slow, lazy circles over your most sensitive spot.
Dom With a Sub Braincell:
Will absolutely rail you senseless while calling you “coach.” Has no shame in begging for a taste, going down on you like it’s his pre-game meal. Big tongue. Big effort. Always finishes the job.
also did I forget to mention dunk is 1000% an ass over tits man, He lives for standing behind you while you squat, pretending it’s about your “form,” but his hands are already on your hips, eyes locked in. And don’t even get him started on the treadmill—he’ll suddenly “need” to stretch right behind you, pretending to tie a shoe while blatantly enjoying the view.
