reader with ex-husband!simon riley and fourth of july w/ the kids
idk i'm a day late but that photo in the middle is singing to me - [MDNI. cw: piv.]
"You're looking good, little yankee." Your ex-husband says to you in a horrible yet somehow sexy country accent, hopping out of his pickup truck. He tips his cowboy hat at your red, white, and blue outfit for the day. You eye him up and down. Even in a casual outfit of a white t-shirt and jeans that are too tight around his thighs, he still manages to look hot.
Stupid hot Brit.
You'd be lying to yourself if you said that the way you're dressed right now was not to spite him. You chose a matching set with a push-up bra just so your tits looked better in your top. You put a little more time in styling your hair today and makeup, just so he could get a tease of what he couldn't have anymore.
You shrug your shoulders, "I mean it's the Fourth. What else would I wear?" You fidget with the handle of your outdoor wagon, heavy with all the things the girls wanted in there along with bug spray, a picnic blanket, and portable fans.
Simon opens the door of his truck and your two little girls hop out, twinning in red and white gingham tops with jeans shorts and white shoes. You coo at their pigtails, clearly done by Simon but perfect for their hair type. He watches you greet them with sweet kisses to their cheeks. He notices the heavy outdoor wagon you're holding with one hand trying to greet them, and he silently takes it from you.
"Look it. All of my girls are red, white, and blue today." You squint at the way he puts you into his statement and not the twins alone. He smirks and walks closer to you, "behave today, for our girls and America, yeah?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Simon drags the wagon while taking the hand of one of your girls, Ayla, while you take the tiny hand of Kyra.
Finding some grass on the field for you all to sit on, Simon sets the picnic blanket onto the ground and gestures to you to make yourself comfortable first. By instinct, he sits next to you, placing a gentle hand on your back. You spot your twin girls playing with their bubble guns, giving you a chance to smack his hand away. "Don't even think that me being here means I want you. I'm here for our girls and to look at pretty fireworks, not to suck you off after."
He chuckles and takes off his cowboy hat, rubbing it against his chest in mock-hurt, "So mean to me, lovie." He frowns, "cause I'm British, huh?"
You roll your eyes. You know he's just teasing but this constant banter has continued even after your divorce. "It's too hot for this." You turn around and look in the wagon for a portable fan.
Luckily for Simon, he was given a perfect view of you on all fours looking for this portable fan. Your back arched slightly, your tits spilled a little out of your top, and your butt was perked perfectly to him. If it weren't for all these people here, he'd make use of your positioning here on this picnic blanket. All he needed was for you to stretch your torso a little further until...perfect.
Your bottoms lower slightly down your back but enough to let the red lace of your panties peek out and Simon feels himself grow harder by the second. Thankfully, his hat is more than big enough to cover his growing bulge. You're his ex-wife on paper, sure, but how can he forget all of the restless nights you shared while you're being an unintentional tease. You turn back around and start waving the fan around yourself, clueless about Simon's conflict.
To beat the awkward silence that you're both experiencing, you decide to stroke his ego a little, "their hair looks really good," you nod your head to the twin girls.
Simon's eyes light up at your compliment. He reclines himself a little, sitting now with his arms behind his back. "I'm glad you think so. They kept telling me 'only mommy does it good' until I was finished." He laughs recalling the scene of the girls sitting on his bathroom sink. Simon maneuvered their hair and the gel with tactical precision for the perfect pigtails and topped them off with American flag pigtail bows. He sighs before letting out a low, "I've mis--"
"Daddy!" The twin girls run in unison towards the both of you, bubble guns still in hand.
Ayla, a spitting image of you, speaks up, "when are the fireworks starting?"
Simon whips out his phone to check the time, "any minute, angel."
Kyra, who looks exactly like Simon, settles into your side and whispers a low, "I want Daddy to come with us after the fireworks."
You sighed because you hated that you wanted the same thing and all you could say was, "we'll see."
The fireworks finally started, making it Simon's cue to stand up and carry the girls in each arm so they could get the perfect view. You videoed them with the fireworks in the background.
After plenty of fireworks, the girls were finally tired and you walked back to Simon's truck, parked right next to your car. You stuck to Kyra's word and decided to ask Simon, "The girls want you to come back to my place." You pause, looking for any excuse for him to decline, "But you're probably on duty so I--"
"No." Simon shakes his head, cowboy hat on. "I'm a reservist right now. Don't worry." He crosses his arms and his forearms pump just a little but enough to make your legs clench. He walks closer to you and nudges you with his bicep, "Besides, don't think me saying yes means I want you. I'm coming for the girls, not to get sucked off after." He winks, slyly aware of his own remark.
It's going to be a long night.
Now in your house, which used to be the primary residence before the divorce, Simon changes out of his jeans into gym shorts. He spots you bent over the damned wagon again, but now in loungewear. He can't tell whether this wagon you bought was a blessing or curse.
Without any cowboy hat to hide his bulge now, he sucks it up and notifies you that he'll put the girls to bed. Not only because he's a good dad, but one more minute with you and he'll use that wagon to keep you situated as he bends you over in doggy. Bloody tease, he thinks to himself.
After putting the girls to bed, he passed the master bedroom that you two used to share. He walked in and thought it was missing something:
The both of you.
Before you could comprehend what was going on, your red lace panties were pulled to the side and your stomach was lying on that room's bed, abandoned for years until this moment.
You could feel Simon's torso sweat on your back as he pressed against you to slide in deeper. He settles his mouth by your ear, just where you like it. "You feel so good, mama." He finishes his statement off with a kiss to your temple. "Teasing me the whole day." He groans in pleasure and annoyance.
"Pretty red bra."
Thrust.
"Pretty red panties."
Thrust.
"My pretty woman." Thrust.
Your left hand clutches the mattress, while you try whipping your right arm back towards Simon in an effort to push him off because it felt too good.
"Si," you mewled into the bed. "We're not using protec--"
He speaks roughly into your ear, now sensually sliding in and out. "You want a third one?" He lifts his torso off of your back, now using his hands to massage your lower back and hips as he keeps his tempo. "I'll come in this pretty little pussy right now. Get you pregnant. Say the word baby."
Two weeks later, an on-duty Simon in his office wasn't surprised when he got a text from you. A pregnancy test on a bathroom sink with a clean and clear "Pregnant" is attached, along with your text, I better not be popping out two babies this time.
@raniwrites replied to your post “this is probably super Ace™ and borderline insensitive of me but i...”
YO SAME THOUGH OH MY GOD it makes no sense what so ever why should the sex matter if you love the other person? It's about them as people not the sex, unless you enter a relationship for that aspect and nothing else i suppose. =/
this seems to be just an Ace(TM) thing because i guess there is merit to people’s dissatisfaction to an absent sex life? i can’t comprehend it but i can respect the emotional toll it takes on them.
mechanic!simon riley who swore he fell in love with you the minute you walked in the shop, your eyes wide but your expression serious. his usual customers are on the older side and always men who are too insufficient to fix a car on their own, so you were the perfect change of pace.
mechanic!simon riley who knew as a woman you were highly likely to get ripped off by other mechanics, so he was glad you came to his shop. he makes sure to offer you water and some light snacks. he doesn't do that with his other customers, but you're an exception.
mechanic!simon riley who thought it was hot when you got straight to the point before he could even introduce himself. you already diagnosed your car before you came because like simon, you knew how you could get scammed in repair shops. you nodded when he asked if you knew a lot about cars and he replied with, "a woman after my own heart."
mechanic!simon riley who is already wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, but rolls up the sleeves to his shoulders so you could get a view of just how huge his biceps were. it doesn't help your temptation when you see that his tattoo sleeve in fact does continue up until his shoulder.
mechanic!simon riley who on purpose makes sure his t-shirt lifts a little bit higher than usual while he's working on your undercarriage. he's lying down under the car, and makes sure to extend his arms higher so he can tease the gorgeous combination that is his happy trail, abs, and v-line to you.
mechanic!simon riley who drains the oil in your car on purpose while he's working on it just enough so that you have to come back a second time and so that he has an excuse to see your gorgeous self again.
mechanic!simon riley who doesn't let you pay for any of the repairs you needed. he reasoned with you saying you had enough trouble driving the car to the shop as it was, and doesn't want to add on to it.
thinking about simon riley and how he gets worried when he gets his labs back from medic!reader:
"Bloody hell, Doc. You could include this in my dossier if you wanted."
You let out a chuckle at his words when you saw him skim through his blood work, a whole packet worth of vital information, from the number of red and white blood cells he has, a basic metabolic panel, and so much more. He skims through the information, every row a new test and labeled with a green "normal" on each one.
Until he reached one of the rows: testosterone.
A red "above average" was next to his testosterone count and you could see the panic in the man's eyes but you didn't know what caused it. You decided to let him speak up about it.
"Hey, doc?" You could see the stress manifest into a physical form the way you saw his thumbs clutch the packet of paper tighter, causing the paper to crease upwards in submission at his grip.
"Yeah, Ghost?" You turn around, your body language evident that you are all ears for what he has to say next.
Ghost had to collect himself before bringing this up. He knows this hormone is a normal thing in males, but why is his so abnormally high? He clears his throat before speaking up, "My testosterone," he pans the packet to face you now, "the lab says it's quite high. That's not normal."
"For you, it is."
The man's eyes squinted behind the mask.
"What? It says 'above normal' right..." he points to the row with a gloved finger, "there. What do you mean for me it's normal?"
You walk closer to him, gently taking the packet out of his tight grip. You turn around and sit next to him, and because of the height difference, Ghost noticed the way your shoulder grazed his bicep.
"It's normal for you because of your muscle mass, sir." You point to his muscle mass percentage. "More muscle means more testosterone in the body. Testosterone helps to support your body in maintaining the amount of muscle you have. If you had a man's average amount of testosterone, you wouldn't be built like a tank."
Ghost snickers at the last remark. "I'm a tank now, Doc?"
"Have you seen yourself, sir?" You scoff. You point to his weight on the paper, "Your muscle mass is also why you're technically obese. You're 6'4 and 250 pounds. But nothing to be worried about. You have more muscle than fat, and muscle weighs more. So I can assure you, you're perfectly healthy."
Ghost at the moment thought the way you nerded out on all of these medical technicalities was quite hot. You were smart, he always knew that. But it was something about the way you were talking in person about all this health and medical stuff that got to him. It didn't help either that you looked even more professional with a white lab coat and scrubs on. You adjusted the glasses on your nose while you looked down at his labs and Ghost swore he felt six inches of some of his muscle and fat twitch.
"Perfectly healthy, Doc?" He repeats your words.
"Perfectly." You skim over the paper once more. "If anything, you have the highest muscle mass and testosterone in the task force."
Ghost felt his pride swell at that statement. Not only did you say he was perfectly healthy, but you basically just called him the most ripped out of all the guys?
"I'm trying to be modest abou' this whole thing you know. You're not helping." He replies sarcastically and you giggled, throwing your head back a little. "I'm serious."
"Well you can thank your hard work on missions and the extra hours at the gym." You nudged his arm with your shoulder, causing Ghost to tense at the sudden contact but he surely didn't mind. The cute little medic that works for the task force just touched him, how could he possibly complain about that?
After that encounter, Simon took no time in bragging about his "abnormally high" testosterone and "obese" weight to the group chat that consisted of him, Price, Gaz, and Johnny.
He sent a picture of his labs with the message: "Not only did Ms. Medic tell me I'm built like a tank but told me I'm more of a man than you all can ever be ;)."
Johnny replied with, "You mean "the missus"?"
Gaz replied with, "You better snag her before I do, Simon. I didn't see a ring on her finger last visit."
Price replied with, "It's only because of my age, you know. If I were in my prime I would have more testosterone and muscle mass than all of you combined."
a/n: that second photo makes me so feral oh my days it just SCREAMS SIMON the tats the bicep the BALACLAVAUAHDF. also thank you all on 1k+ notes on my husband!simon riley post. I ADORE U GUYS and i'm so glad that you guys like my writing, it means a lot 🥲♥︎.
biker!simon riley who rides a bike as powerful as him: a gorgeous kawasaki ninja h2. he modded it so now it’s fully blacked out. he didn't bother upgrading bikes over time like most riders so they can get the hang of simply riding. he bought the h2 as his first one ever and kept it since (which is insane bc this man bought a liter bike for his first bike ever but he handles the bike flawlessly so it's okay).
biker!simon riley who definitely has a keychain for the bike that says something funny/stupid just for the giggles. something like “kawasexy” or “forget the bike, ride the biker.” he has even has one that has skulls on it in honor of his callsign.
biker!simon riley who before you rode with him, helps you put on your helmet. he tugs you closer by the straps, making your legs stumble closer to his body. he makes sure both his and your visors are up just so he can steal some eye contact with you, passing you a cheeky wink in the mix.
biker!simon riley who doesn't speed or do any tricks on the bike when you're riding with him. he knows you're trusting him with your life every time you're behind him on the bike, and that's an honor he can never sabotage with careless riding. although you constantly beg him for a wheelie, he never does it, saying “you're precious. i can't possibly risk it, doll.”
biker!simon riley who loves to reach behind and rub your thigh as he rides. on red lights he makes sure to look back and check up on you, lifting up his visor and looking into your eyes. his voice rumbles even with his helmet on, patting your thigh as he asks, "you okay back here, sweetheart?"
biker!simon riley who at the end of your riding session with him, takes off your helmet for you. as he smooths out your hair to fix the helmet hair, he tucks a strand behind you ear and whispers in it, "you ride well."
(like let me ride you next plea-- OMG WHO SAID THAT)
a/n: AHH my first work so exciting! anyways i have currently been a hopeless romantic so what better way to cope than by making some headcanons about my fav mancunian?
husband!simon riley who ABSOLUTELY adores it when you wear his camo hoodie that has his last name 'RILEY' splayed on the back of it. the way the hoodie falls to your knees because the man is built like a tank and his clothes, especially this hoodie, proves it.
husband!simon riley who not only wears his wedding band, but tattooed your initials on his ring finger. he understands the wedding band is already a symbol but "love, i need something permanent."
husband!simon riley who rarely brings work home. he's completely different on base or on missions. he's a killer, a strategic soldier who completes his missions and does it effortlessly. but when he comes home, he's just your simon. he is your husband, a man deeply in love and devoted to you. he doesn't like to talk about his missions. he doesn't want you to worry. he would much rather whisper sweet words in your ear as his face is nuzzled perfectly between your shoulder and neck.
husband!simon riley who loves touching you. when you're cooking, he wraps his muscular arms from behind around your waist. when you're lounging on the couch, he has his large hand on your thigh, massaging and appreciating the softness. when you're fast asleep, he makes sure to move closer, running his fingers through your hair being careful not to tangle or damage it during the process. he thinks being able to touch you is an honor. it grounds him knowing that you're real.
husband!simon riley who NEVER lets you pay for anything. it's not to make you feel you are incapable of managing the finances. instead, he just wants you to be comfortable enough to not worry about money. all the bills are payed by him, groceries, and even your subscriptions. he makes sure you know his bank information and made you an authorized user on his card. "i have money, sweetheart, so just let me take care of you. you're mine. you deserve it."
husband!simon riley who thinks it's hot when you get mad. he still has yet to know why. but he thinks it's something about the way you have so much temper in your little self you could "start world war 3 if you wanted to, lovie."
husband!simon riley who loves seeing you with kids. his relationship with his parents wasn't the best: an abusive father and a distant mother. he never even wanted kids until you came into his life. he feared becoming like his dad. but with your reassurance and seeing the way your eyes brighten and your giggles get louder every time you're with kids.. he now doesn't mind having some mini rileys around the house. when he develops baby fever, in the deep of the night with you asleep softly against him, he thinks about your belly swollen and your body womanly with the baby you two will love deeply.
(i literally need him so bad now this isn’t funny okay bye let me go watch the australian grand prix)
