Ginevra

Daydreamer (in my 20s). Writing for the fems/gals ♥️

[yousummonedme]

Authoress’ note

Hii! You summoned me? I’m Ginevra/Jin. Cis woman. I’m in my twenties.

I love reading and writing fanfiction. I write mainly for COD so far, but I’ll probably branch out. I’m always down to chat, and I might be able to take requests too.

My writing is for the fems/gals, which means they will be centered around cis women. Not that I mind other people reading and enjoying my stories. I love reading comments, including the thirsty ones. Also, I am single, so ladies don’t be afraid to flirt 😘.

Rules for my blog:

Don’t be misogynistic or otherwise rude and harmful, including by plagiarizing.

Minors, do not interact with smutty posts.

[yousummonedme]

Steve hated when you use his full name

”Steven.” It’s with folded arms and a tone that challenges him to think twice about how he just fucked up.

“Steven.” It’s the name you use when he’s in trouble. And it’s usually accompanied by the rest of his name… Grant Rogers.

“Steven.” It was prefixed by the title “Mr.” when you didn’t know him well— a time in life he didn’t like to think about because it was a time in life that you did not love him.

“Steven.” No one called him that. Maybe it unnerved him a bit, the way you’d call him by a name that only you used. Maybe it was because it reminded him not to take you for granted. Maybe because it felt like you were pushing him away, like he was a stranger instead of “love,” “babe,” or husband. Maybe it was because it made him feel like you saw right through him in ways others didn’t.

“Steven.” Is the way you’d let out his name in a breathy moan as your nails raked down his back. Steve relished the pain if it meant you were holding on as tight to him as he was internally holding onto you.

“Steven.” Is the name you’d scream when he slammed himself into you over and over, asking who was making you feel this good.

“Steven!” You’d gasped his name out between your fingers. Your eyes were shining like stars and wavering in disbelief. Steve had dropped to his knees during date night, holding a sparkly ring. And all you could do is tremble and stare at it. Finally he had to just get up and put the ring on your finger without an answer from you because all you could manage to say in your overwhelming happiness was—

“Steven.” The name you’d proudly whispered while pledging your vows. The name you’d cursed a dozen times while giving birth. The name you’d said in a million different ways worh a million different emotions during a million different memories, till he began to associate it with the lifetime he spent with you.

Steve hated when you used his full name. But he loved it at the same time.

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about reader who gets one of those bedside rugs with a man kneeling on it.

(Minors DNI)

You feel like a queen having a good looking man waiting on you, kneeling at your side. Every morning, your face brightens in a smug little smile as you daintily extend your foot into his hand. It makes your entire day a bit better.

Your boyfriend isn’t so fond of it, however. He knows it’s just a rug. He knows the man on it is fictional. He knows you love him most in the world. More than all that, he is well aware you’d draw and quarter his ass if he burned that thing like he so wants to!

So he tries to convince you another way. One morning, as you stir and turn to get down from the bed, you’re startled by the sight of Simon right beside you. He holds his hands out, posing exactly like the man on your rug. Your boyfriend is better looking too, but not that you'd ever admit it to him.

“Honey, what the exact fuck are you doing?” You use your best stern voice. He huffs. “You wanted a man waiting on you when you wake up— here I am!” You try not to laugh. You really shouldn’t be encouraging this. “Babe, you’re not gonna wake up every morning so I can step on you.” Fuck, why did his dick twitch at the thought?!

“I’ll get up anytime I damn please!” He grumbles. “I’m here, so you don’t have to keep looking at that thing!” You can see the disgust in his face at the rug man. “It’s just a rug, sweetheart. It’s fun having the queen treatment. You can use it too.” (He looked appalled at the idea.)

He grabbed your foot, cradling it against his heart. “Don’t I treat you like a queen?” You could have wept at the sorrow in his eyes. “You do, love. It’s just— it’s different. It’s a rug. I don’t care if I’m trampling on it or or living out my fantasies that I wouldn’t use on you. But of course I’m not going to treat you like my sex slave, like a piece of meat I can toy and have my way with however and whenever I want!”

Your boyfriend was taken aback. So this was what you were capable of. To be honest, he’d never really seen that side of you: dominant, filthy, cruel…

A scoff left his throat at your words, followed by a low chuckle. His eyes sparked; the way he gazed darkly at you made your heart drop. His voice deepened, nearly a growl, and his head cocked. “Wife, if you wanted me on my knees… all you had to do was order.”

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about your boyfriend who’s lost in your pussy

First thing after he comes home from a hard day, he just wants to strip to his briefs and flop face down on the bed between your spread legs.

He starts by licking you through your panties. There’s something he finds so alluring about basically straining for a taste of you. He likes when he has to work for it and that’s why he’s wrapped around your fingers.

The cloth of your underwear is soaked with his spit and your arousal by the time he finally slips it off. His movements are slow, almost reverent. His fingers trace your skin as they slide down your legs, and he plants kisses as he goes.

When he begins eating you out proper, he’s making love to your pussy. He French kisses it— tongue giving light swipes, lips and teeth devouring, hands bringing you closer and holding you in place for him. The kisses get deeper, and he begins to moan. The more pussy-drink he gets, the more he babbles about how good you are for him and how he loves the taste and feel of you. You’re almost too gone to get any of that. His voice muffled into your cunt gets you trembling.

His thumb plays with your clit sloppily. He likes spitting on it or massaging a bit of his pre into it. And every once in a while, he’ll pull back to stare at your folds like it’s the most unique design he’s ever seen. His other fingers spread and play with your cunt, but he can’t stay away for too long, so he’ll give you a big lick from hole to clit or shove his tongue deep in you before returning to gazing. His eyes are wide with wonder for two whole minutes before he dives back in.

The way he sucks at your arousal makes loud slurping noises. You’ve scolded him for it before, lightly smacking his shoulder at his “table manners.” But he just stares at you— sometimes with an incorrigible, lazy grin; sometimes dead serious as he says, “Stop being embarrassed at me loving your pussy.” You’ve learned to let it go, because on the days you scolded him, he just held on tight to your hips and slurped louder. He’d go on eating you out, orgasm after orgasm, till you were all wrung out.

Simon kneeling for you

[yousummonedme]

I'm obsessed with ur writing and wanted to say how much I love reading ur one shots at work on my lunch breake!! <3

Don't know if ur requests are open, but I was wondering if u could write a one shot with Simon and wife reader, that is kinda dark to say the least, where task 141 is on a mission where they need to catch a dangerous terrorist, kinda like makarov, but they discover that said terrorist is readers older brother, reader doesn't know that about her brother tho, now t141 needs to interrogate her, Simon knows that his wife is innocent, but with orders from higher ups Price can't do anything about it

So they take her to a interrogation room (it's ur choice if it's one where they do the tortures or just a regular one), at first Price says that they just need to ask a couple questions to see if she can help them catch one of the bad guys, kinda like when a police officer interrogates someone in a much calmer way, then Price says that its actually her brother they are tryna catch, but what make it even darker is that Simon's wife is heavenly pregnant with their first child, making the team sick to their stomach just imagining having to torture a pregnant lady, Simons' lady

I know it's a very macabre concept lol but I LOVE the tension in these type of scenarios, and I would like it being angst/comfort with a happy ending for reader and Simon cause I hate sad endings and always cry with them :'), but it's your choice whether they have to interrogate her in a rougher way, or even torture her if you feel inspired to

Sorry for the super long request and for any grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language

(Hi, cybermabeljackson! It's so lovely to hear you've been enjoying my stories, and I hope you like this one too! Thank you for this request.)

OML this was so long!

CW: torture, pregnancy, language

To Trust, To Torture

Snow whipped around black vests. Guns gleamed in patches of light amidst the darkness. A group of soldiers moved in one accord at the whispered orders of their Captain. 

“We have received confirmation that Makarov’s enforcer for this region— alias Ricardo— is at the location. It is fortified; we’ve counted 27 hostiles not including the mark. Remember, lads: we want him alive, and we want any evidence that could bring Makarov to his knees. Keep coms and cameras on.”

Exactly ten seconds later, the windows to an old building somewhere in Russia shattered. The men inside yelled and ducked for cover as tiny bombs exploded and filled the atmosphere with smoke and tear gas. 

The Taskforce invaded next and swept through the place with their guns drawn. Bullets ripped through the fog, but the force had prepared too well. It wasn’t long before the hostiles were dead or surrendered. 

Captain Price left Ghost and Soap to oversee that mess while he hunted down Ricardo. Gaz scouted a few steps ahead of him. Their faces were grim, focused. They silently made their way through shadowy halls till they reached the main office. Price nodded, and Gaz breached it. 

Oh, God! Price’s hands shook as he fired into the room and dodged bullets from the enemy. That was a face he hadn’t seen much but would recognize anywhere. He’d first made acquaintance with it years when Simon mentioned he’d begun dating a woman. Price wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t toxic, but out of concern for his man, he’d done a background check on her family. The first time he met the owner of that face was at Simon’s wedding, where he had to pretend to not know everything about Simon’s new brother-in-law. Turns out it was not a pretense considering the man was a terrorist, and Price hadn’t had a clue. 

With an ashen face, Price went through the motions of sneaking behind Ricardo and knocking him out with a slam of a gun to his head. Gaz stared frozen at the hardness of the blow. 

“I know this hurts, sir. But we need that man alive.” Gaz's steady voice snapped Price to his senses. Still, his body sagged with the weight of this as he waited for Simon to arrive.

“Great Christ Almighty!” Johnny stumbled at the door when he saw Ricardo’s identity. He tried to push Ghost away. “Maybe you don’t need to see this, Riley.”

Simon frowned and pushed past Johnny anyway. 

“My wife is innocent.” Were the words that flew out of Simon’s mouth before he had even processed the scene. “She didn’t know shite about this, and I’d bet a bullet to my brains on it.”

“Simon, this would be hard for anyone—,”

Simon didn’t tell Price to shut the fuck up, but the flash of rage in his eyes did the job for him. 

There was a tense pause. Gaz did the work no one else was capable of at the moment: he bound Ricardo and took him to extraction, while the others stood there, minds racing with the implications of your brother being a war criminal. With a heavy sigh, Price shifted. “Search the place top to bottom.”

Soap opened his mouth in your defense himself, but Price held up one hand. “I know she’s innocent, Johnny. But we’re going to need command to be sure beyond a doubt if we’re going to save her.”

Your hands rested, one on your aching back and one on your large stomach. Fuck you for fucking a giant and getting pregnant with his probably gigantic baby! You were about six weeks away from your due date, and it was getting harder for you to carry about like normal. At least you’d soon have your husband there to do his share. 

Simon had promised he’d do this last mission, then he’d be yours and the baby’s till several months after they were born. You smiled at the thought of the three of you being a happy family together. You’d been dreaming of this for so long, and it was almost here. Your body almost vibrated with excitement to reunite with Simon and meet your child. You hadn’t even found out their gender, wanting it to be a surprise. 

In your joy, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything was wrong when Captain Price asked you to meet him at the base. Sure, mayyybbee a thought prickled at you that something had happened to Simon. But you’d quickly pushed that away, telling yourself that Price would have brought you over himself. 

Instead, Kyle Garrick kindly smiled by your side, steadying you as you walked down the halls of the base. “Damn, Kyle! I’ve never been this deep inside the military HQ! Couldn’t you have saved this trek for when I’m NOT one sneeze away from popping a baby out?”

Kyle forced a chuckle while you laughed. There was a sadness in his eyes you’d failed to catch as he gazed at you. 

You reached the room. It was barely lit, and the walls looked like death. Kyle helped lower you into a chair at a table with a hook in it. Price stood at the other side of the room, and his face was flint. Kyle’s large, strong hands bracing your stomach tenderly. You looked around, and his heart ached at your innocent confusion. 

“Kyle, you brought me all the way to the depths of the base to seat me in a room that looks like it was made to torture war criminals?!”

Kyle’s jaw clenched so hard he could almost taste blood. “God, I’m so fucking sorry!”

He forced your hands in front of you and laid them on the table. You half-heartedly resisted. You still didn’t get what was going on, why they were acting so weird all of a sudden.

“Kyle, what’s going on? I’m scared. Bring Simon to us.” You whimpered, trying to lean away from his touch.

Your breathing picked up, and your body trembled for the wrong reasons now. There was a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach. It boiled with stress, but you tried to calm yourself for the baby’s sake. 

Kyle’s heart broke a bit more. US. You weren’t just asking for your husband but for your baby’s father, the baby you were currently heavily pregnant with. And, despite that, Gaz and Captain Price were here to interrogate you., even if it meant using torture. You were their family—had been the moment Simon opened his life to you—, and yet, that wasn’t enough to stop what was going to happen next.

It was too warm. Your face was flushed, and your clothes were soaked with sweat. You tried to keep your arms as close to your stomach as possible with the cuffs. You couldn’t understand why John was treating you like this, why he and Kyle questioned you over random shit like you were an enemy agent or something. 

You were so fucking tired— and why wasn’t Simon here yet??

“I don’t know what files you’re talking about.” You slur, the heat and exhaustion getting to you. “I’ve never…” Your words trail off in nonsensical mumbles.

For the first time, Price’s eyes flickered. He’d hated every atom of his body for doing this to you, especially in your state. But your older bother had claimed you were involved with his criminal activities. And some heavily-coded transcripts and receipts the Taskforce had recovered corroborated his words. 

“Kyle, get her some water— don’t spike it.” He muttered.

A single tear fell from your eyes. “Please don’t hurt my baby! I don’t know what I did wrong, but please don’t hurt them. They’re so small; they don’t deserve to be caught up in this. Please! You can do whatever you want with me instead.”

You were nearly hysterical when Kyle returned with a glass. Price reluctantly let him uncuff you. It was necessary, but it would only make things worse in a little bit. With no solid intel, Price had been ordered to enhance the interrogation.

Kyle knelt by your feet and murmured gentle words that you didn’t understand but had calmed you down. The tears that rolled down your face were rubbed tenderly by his thumbs. 

“Drink water, love. It’s safe. Don’t stress so much. It’ll hurt the baby.”

A loud crash made you scream and squeeze your eyes shut. Your entire body flinched and retreated into Kyle’s side. Price paced by the, chair he’d thrown into the wall. “We’re the ones hurting her baby, Garrick. When we stand before god, he’ll damn all our souls for this sin. Simon will never forgive us either.”

Gaz said nothing. Once again, he did what had to be done and forced your hands back into cuffs.  

 Johnny raced against the clock to unravel the trail of evidence. He glanced at Simon next to him. Simon’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. Simon’s finders were still, and his eyes were clearly not focused on the documents in front of him. Johnny counted himself lucky Simon had no inkling of what was going on several floors down. It was Johnny’s job to guard him. If Simon found out Price had his wife and baby down there, all hell would’ve broken loose; and Soap wasn’t sure he would have been able to stop Simon from killing someone… that someone being Price— and maybe Gaz and Soap himself while he was at it.

John’s hands had trembled many times; John’s mind had wavered more than he could count. But Captain Price of the 141 had no such luxury. Captain Price had lived by the motto too doing what needed to be done. He’d dirty his hands so the world could stay clean. But under the veneer of Captain, John’s hands shook. They’d never be clean again. 

He had started out trying to make his blows light. He avoided hitting anywhere near your stomach. Even when he switched to harsher methods, he kept them lighter than he would other prisoners. ‘As if that makes things any better,’ he scoffed to himself. He was still risking the baby— more than that he was still hurting someone who was like a sister to him, a woman he knew was innocent. 

“Make it stop!” You shrieked, straining against your bonds. “Please! It hurts! God, it hurts!” Your body convulses with loud sobs. “You’re going to hurt the baby.”

“Tell us your role in Ricardo’s work.” Price demanded. His voice and experession did not betray him.

“I don’t know, you fucking bastards! Go burn in hell!” Your pain turns to rage. “You worthless traitors better sleep with one eye open when SImon finds out what you’ve done!”

“What makes you think he doesn’t know?” Price’s cool voice rattled even Gaz. You froze for one long moment. 

“N-No, he w-wouldn’t.” You whisper weakly. Your eyes waver between them.

“Even he doesn’t believe you. He couldn’t bear to see you.” Price leaned onto the table and spat, “Tell me: how could you betray your husband, your baby, everything you built— how could you sell us all out like this, you heartless bitch!”

Something in you shattered at that. You couldn’t hold on when even the person you loved most didn’t trust you. Your face was pale, and all the life left your body. You sank back into your chair, battered and completely broken. 

“I did it,” You whispered. “Whatever it was, I did it. I-I’ll sign the confession. Just, please, don’t hurt my baby.”

Simon’s gaze burned through the screen. “Is this right, Soap? Tell me it’s right.” His rough voice wobbled. 

Soap’s heart burst with joy. “You found it, Simon! She’s innocent. Fuck, we need to hurry!”

Simon’s face darkened, and a cold dread filled his body. His fingers gripped Johnny’s arm like an iron vice. “Tell me, MacTavish, why do we fucking have to hurry?”

Gaz’s face was streaming with tears as he dragged Price out of that room. “We have to stop, John. I don’t care. We have to stop.” 

Price grunted, his throat closing up. He couldn’t say a word.

Suddenly, yells filled the hallway; and Simon came charging down like a bull. “WHERE’S MY WIFE?”

He stopped in front of Price and slammed a set of papers into his chest. “She’s innocent, and here’s the damn proof. Now let me see her before I do something that will land you in a grave.”

Simon didn’t wait for Price to respond before shoving past him.

“Sweetheart!” Simon threw himself at your feet. 

“I’ll sign the papers. I was wrong. I did it.” You whimpered incoherently.

“No, no, no, love! You did nothing wrong. We found the proof. You’re innocent.” He hushes you gently, his hands cradling your face. 

Your voice cracks. Your face looked numb, but fresh tears fell automatically. “You didn’t want to see me.”

Simon’s heart cracked. 

“Price said you didn’t believe me. I’m sorry.”

Simon gripped your chair so hard it got dented with his fingers. “Love, I will always trust you. Please believe me. I didn’t know. I swear.”

Simon’s body bows, wracked with sobs. 

You sit still for a few moments. It’s clear you’re struggling to comprehend in your frail state. 

“Simon,” You whisper, reaching for his head in your lap. A whimper escapes your throat as your hands are forced to stop by the chains.

Wiping his tears, Simon sprung to action. “Shh, don’t worry about me, love. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m going to get you out, okay.”

Simon swept you into his arms to carry you out, then froze. His jaw hung open as he slowly looked down as your soaked clothes. You drift out of consciousness in his hold, unaware that your water had broken.

Simon was right by your side when you woke. Your first instinct was to panic and scream, but he held you till you were alright again.

“Where’s the baby?” Your eyes welled with tears, noticing your empty stomach. 

Simon’s eyes filled with tears too. Trying to contain himself he walked away.

Before you could breakdown, he returned holding a tiny pink bundle.

“We’ve got a daughter, love. You did so well! You’re so strong and brave! I’m so damn proud of you, darling.”

You reached for the little baby, and Simon laid her in your arms. 

“Baby’s okay?”

“She’s alright. Doctor said she’s completely healthy, just premature because of…” Simon choked and turned his head for a second so you wouldn’t see him crumple. 

“You’ll be alright too. There’s no lasting damage.” He said when he faced you again. “And I’m going to be right here, waiting on you both hand and foot. And I’ll make sure you both get justice for what you went through.” 

His jaw unclenched as your hand trails his face. 

“Thank you for trusting me. I just wanted our daughter to be safe and for you to know I’d never hurt you like that.” You soften even more as you add,“And now our baby’s here, and so are you. I guess we get to have our happy family sooner at least.”

Simon nodded, his jaw working with emotion. “We’re all here, love. Happy and safe after all.”

[yousummonedme]

hello, i have no idea if requests are open (if not, pls ignore this)— but among T141, who do you think would be okay with using their s/o as a bait for a mission? >u<

Hi! Yeah, my DMs and Asks are pretty much open. This is such an interesting prompt!

Based on the games, Price would definitely be the main one using his s/o as bait. He’s the type to be fine with getting his hands dirty for a job, even if his hands are dirtied by the innocent blood of the person he’s supposed to love the most. He doesn’t always seem like it, but he’s more brutal than Ghost.

It gets even worse when his new motto is “no more rules.” Price has a mission, and he’d destroy or use anyone in his path however he deems necessary.

So when it comes to making his s/o bait, his brain lights up and intensifies like he’s hunting prey. Where other people might refuse or at least hesitate, he strategizes to optimize the operation. When it’s set up to perfection, he’s pleased with himself.

He’ll convince them it’s for the good of the world and that he’s got their back. He’ll convince them he really does care even if he’s sending them in the line of fire. Like a butcher, he pats them tenderly though he’s using them like lambs to the slaughter.

But if they happen to get caught, he’ll turn his back on them and destruct any evidence that could trace back to him.

Even worse if he sets them up as bait without them even knowing. They’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, crying and awaiting Price to rescue them. They know he’s got the contacts and skills to do it. In their minds, they have no doubt he loves them and will save them. They’re convinced he’ll obliterate the people who did this to them. Little do they know he’s that person.

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about reader who loves Simon

(CW: mentions of death, childhood neglect)

She’d barely loved before, never been loved before either. Starting with a father who hated her and a mother too busy surviving him, she didn’t find love later in life either. She was always bullied or the replaceable, unexciting one in the group. Even her friends might not have mistreated her, but they reciprocated her overflowing devotion with disinterest or pity at best.

She might as well go to the army. None better to die for their country than someone no one will miss. She kept to herself mostly; there wasn’t any point in exhausting herself with people who would never care.

Somehow, amidst dozens of others, though, Simon noticed her. Maybe it was some sort of magnet, joining two souls who didn’t say much, who hid in their shells. He’d come sit next to her. He’d speak a sentence or two of small talk. Occasionally, he’d give her his portion of a cookie or apple. She ignored him. Once, she lost her cool and snapped at him to fuck off instead of toying with her emotions. She had no energy left to let herself be hurt again. Simon seemed to understand. He’d back away, but unlike what she expected, it was always to give her space, not to abandon her. After a day or two, he’d be back.

She loved him before she even became acquaintances. It crept up on her, soft and sweet. It was like being blindsided by summer. One minute, she was barely surviving a blizzard. Frigid winds around her flayed her to the bone and froze her frail heart. The next, she was consumed by the blazing passion of a love so warm it brought her to life.

She was wise enough to know better. Years had taught her cynicism addressed as common sense. Which is why it bewildered her that she never truly saw Simon’s love for Johnny coming. She’d observed all the signs, of course. She was a soldier, and a good one at that. It didn’t take a genius to see that Simon talked and laughed more with his teammate than anyone else. But there was other evidence her brain gathered no matter how much she tried to turn a blind eye.

She noticed the way Simon’s gaze lingered on Johnny and the way Johnny’s lingered back. She saw the way they’d sit close and brush against each other— innocent to a clueless eye. She observed the subtle way Simon’s entire body bloomed like a flower before sunlight when Johnny was around. She somehow caught Simon leaving Johnny’s room. Her breath caught when she realized Simon pulling his mask on outside the door meant he’d let Soap see his real face— something he wouldn’t let anyone else do.

But her own longing for him had blinded her to that final conclusion, the slotting of the puzzle pieces together. It was easy to persuade herself that Simon’s kindness meant he loved her in that way. Her affection-starved heart was so easy to persuade that maybe something good was finally happening to her. She hadn’t accepted the truth. Rather the truth had slammed itself on her like a tsunami.

It happened right before a mission. She’d gone to secure her equipment, and she walked in on Johnny and Simon. Their lips met in a tender kiss, and their arms clung to each other in case it was their last. “I love you,” Simon whispered. And her world was devastated. Her ears were ringing, her eyes a blur. Her head pounded while her heart was charged with agony like she’d never felt before. She stumbled out too far gone to hear Johnny whisper his love back.

She had two choices. Her or Johnny. Johnny or her. The mission had gone wrong… drastically. Johnny didn’t know he’d stepped on a mine while downloading files. All he knew was that time was ticking, and the enemy was closing in. She stepped a bit too close. She could feel the trigger plate under her feet, and that mattered more than the slightly judgmental look Soap gave her.

“Why don’t you start heading out? I’ll wipe the computer and be right behind you.” Her voice was shaky, barely more than a whisper. Soap didn’t think odd of it. “Sure, lass. Don’t take too long, eh?” He patted her gently on the head. Her heart bled a little. How she wished she could hate him!

Soap left her behind so easily. But she told herself to be grateful. Simon’s affection would have soured into hatred if she was the one who made it out alive. And maybe it would be easier for him to look back fondly at her if Johnny wasn’t eaten up knowing she’d given her life for his mistake.

She wanted to tell Soap so many things as he disappeared out of sight. She wanted to tell him she wished he were dead. She wanted to tell him she wanted Simon to know she loved him. She wanted to tell him she wished them well, that they’d share the love she’d longed for, that it would grow into love she couldn’t even dream of. But it was imperative Johnny didn’t know. Simon would— she knew him well enough to be sure he’d figure it out. But maybe that would make him love her a bit more. And that had to be enough for her.

So she closed her eyes and stepped off the trigger plate with the whisper of Simon’s name on her lips.

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about shy Simon Riley

(fluff and smut. MDNI)

The first time he asked you out, he was a nervous, melting wreck. His friends, watching from a distances, guffawed at the sight of the huge man hunched over to match your height a bit better.

When you started dating, trying to hold your hand was a whole tactical operation for him. He’d had a thirty-step strategy, and you smashed it in one second when you slipped your fingers between his. Simon instantly squeezed your hand to get more of your warmth.

Your first kiss, just outside the destination for your second date, excited him a bit too much. He stammered and folded all over himself trying to hide why he couldn’t go outside for a few minutes. When you figured it out, you turned your head with a smile to preserve his frayed dignity.

He came much too quick for the first few times you had sex. It took you edging and training him to extend his stamina. But how could he control himself when he had such a lovely woman wrapped around him? To be fair, he was a trooper; and he’d go several rounds to satisfy you even if it made him cry and whimper so prettily in overstimulation.

He’d turn red every time he asked you for affection. If you complimented him, he’d almost hide his face. You figured it out and initiated even harder. For one thing, you knew he’d have a hard time asking for love himself… and it was fun to fluster him. Oh my god!— don’t even get started on the day you took control. He almost busted the instant you pushed him against a wall and caged him between your arms, one hand pinning his huge ones to the wall. When you both went out, it was you talking for him sometimes because he just couldn’t find the words.

Even after you dated and were long married, Simon crushed on you— and he crushed hard!! He’d stare like a blissful fool at the littlest things you did. He could listen to you for hours. For him, the honeymoon period never ended. He never stopped aweing at the fact that he’d ended up with someone as wonderful as you.

Oh, and he still sometimes needed a few minutes to calm down after you kissed him ;)

Loving Simon

When your bf loves eating you

Authoress’ note: Hii, y’all! Feel free to drop a comment or DM me with a thought

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about Simon who’s a good example of what a man should be

Slight mentions of domestic violence and sexual assault

Growing up, he had plenty example of what a man should not be from his dad.

So when he began to date and became a father himself, he held himself up to a good standard and then he raised them higher.

Never did he raise his voice or hand on his wife or kids. He respected his wife and modeled it so his daughters knew what to expect from a man and so his sons knew how to be one. He’d spend time with his family, getting to know them not just treat them like side characters in his fantasies. He'd take each member individually out on dates and spoil them. There wouldn’t be any punishment for being imperfect, only discipline when doing something harmful and gentle teaching to guide his kids. He’d be emotionally vulnerable and mature so his family would be able to lean on and be close to him. His kids would grow knowing it’s okay to have feelings and there’s a way to handle them properly.

With his wife, he’d always be tender and loving. He’d show consideration for her needs and boundaries. When she was weak, he’d be stronger to support her. And when he needed, he’d let himself rely on her too. He was always holding her or telling her how much he loved her. He’d leave notes for her. He’d remember and plan for important dates. He’d take an active interest in things she liked. He valued the people in her life. When they had sex, he’d never selfishly focus on his own pleasure— nor was he selfish towards her at any other time.

No toxic masculinity in him. He’d worked hard to unlearn the harmful patterns his past had engrained in him. If his kids wanted to paint their nails or dress up, he was right there strutting to living room with them to show his wife. If his kids wanted to build something, he’d… freak out a bit that they’d get hurt, but he’d guide them age-appropriately anyway.

His kids weren’t perfect. Sometimes they’d break rules. They sneak out for drinks. They’d get bad grades. One wrecked his car. But there wasn’t ever a time they didn’t know he’d have their back. They’d always have a home in him and his wife.

When his son got into a toxic relationship, he let him cry his heart out, then gave the ex-bf a talk that chased him out for good. His daughter came to her parents, breaking into tears as she told them about a family friend’s inappropriate behavior. Simon had known him for a long time, but there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation as he put that man in jail. He didn’t tolerate other people doing or saying anything misogynistic, rude, or harmful towards his family. And you can bet he avoided it himself. If he screwed up, he’d apologize straight and change his behavior.

Years of marriage, years of parenting— Simon celebrated his 40th anniversary with his wife, his happy family and tight-knit friend circle still together. Simon looked back at the life he’d worked so hard to build with others. A memory played of his dad dying alone; then, he looked around at his loved ones. And a smile came to his face.

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about Simon coming home from deployment

(CW: smuttttt! MDNI)

He’s worn to the bone, and all he needs is you and some deep sleep. He’s covered in dirt and questionable fluids, so he doesn’t even look at you as he goes straight to the bathroom. You understand. He needs to be clean, desperately needs to wash off all traces of the Ghost he’d been and slowly ease into his body again. You knew it would take maybe an hour or so before he was sufficiently himself to be able to meet you. And even then, he’d need more.

The instant he was ready, though, he zoomed in on you like he was possessed. It was like his body was on autopilot, unstoppable in its tracks leading to you. “Love—!” Was the only thing he managed to choke out before his lips and hands were all over you.

His tongue swiped into your mouth; his hands grasped your body nearly close enough to bruise. In his desperation, he’d forgotten everything but trying to convince himself you were still alive, that you were real, that you still loved him and were right there. He planted kisses down your body. He wound up on his knees to kiss your feet. And then, he looked up at you and begged, “Sit on my face, gem.”

Soft, thick thighs wrapped tight around his ears— he pressed them even closer together— and eyes obscured by the full weight of you resting on him, he was finally able to drown out the army. No more loud noises, no more pressure of life or death, no more grime, no more mask. His mind and body were focused only on you, devoted to your satisfaction.

He ate hungrily, savoring the taste of your pussy. You moaned above him. Your fingers dug the headboard till he pried your fingers off and brought them to his hair instead so he could relish the sting of you tugging it in overwhelm of the pleasure he was giving you. He let out a loud groan when you began to grind on him, and he dug his fingers into your ass to encourage you to use him more.

You knew his routine. It took him a while to shed the weight of his job. So you’d definitely be here a while. Then, when you lifted off his face, soaked and trembling, he’d wash you both up. He’d curl up in your arms, face pressed to your bosom. He’d sleep a long, long time. And finally, when he woke up, you’d have all of Simon back.

Loving Simon

When he loves eating you out

Authoress’ note: Hii, y’all! Feel free to drop a comment or DM me with a thought

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about Nurse! reader giving Simon a checkup

(CW: smut. MDNI)

And she’s trying her hardest not to thirst over him. He’s a good looking man, peering down curiously at her. He’s got the height difference she deserves. His body is strong and just the right balance between soft and muscular. He’s covered in veins… all the way down (she got to see when he stripped for the exam). And his scars, hidden under gear and mask, just make him hotter.

Outwardly, she was perfectly professional. But inside, she wished she could trace those scars with her tongue before swallowing his cock down her throat. It was with a perfectly blank face she had to assess his dick and assure him he was in peak fertility and in the higher percentile fore size and girth.

At one point, she was dressing a slight wound on his collarbone. As her fingers brushed against his neck, she wondered what it would be like to choke him. She pictured his teary eyes gazing up ever so pleading into hers as he thrust up into her in cowboy. Her pussy clenched thinking about how pretty she could make him moan and whine, how sweet his begs for her to let him cum would be. And she’d tighten her hold on his airway, letting go only once he’d filled her up.

She’d checked his blood pressure, and his forearm lay tantalizingly in front of her. His long, thick fingers that could fill her up. Oh, she knew a man like that was good with them. He could probably make her squirt. He’d stuck his tongue out for one part of the exam, and she almost moaned at the thought of that lapping against her. His lips were at the exact height she could have just leaned in for a kiss…

Snapping out of her daze, she caught him watching her. She startled, knowing he’d probably read her thoughts. He didn’t seem put off, though, just a bit amused and rather turned on. Her boldness spurred. She leaned close enough for her lips to brush his ear. “Ever thought of wearing a collar, Lt.?” She murmured. Simon’s body tensed, and he swallowed hard. “Depends. You offering to put one on me, Ma’am?”

Sure enough, few days later, Simon spotted black leather around his neck. Luckily, it was big enough to cover the mark she’d given him.

[yousummonedme]

Imagine dating a sea slug hybrid

(CW: sexual themes)

And right after sex, he pulls off his penis and throws it away. He sees your terrified(?) appalled(?) expression and immediately reassures you: “Don’t worry, honey! I can grow a new one if you wanna go another round!” He seems to take pride in the fact his refractory period is shorter than other slugs, so you won’t have to wait all the way till the next day to have sex again.

He also can’t stop making horrible jokes about being a grower not show-er.

[yousummonedme]

Thank you for 500 followers!

Thank you to my followers and others who’ve liked, reblogged, and commented on my posts. Reading comments especially makes my day! Y’all are so much fun! Here’s a toast to all the stories we’ve shared and to the ones ahead 🍞🧈

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about “Just the tip” with Simon

(CW: Smut. Orgasm control, overstim, cunnilingus, femdom, mommy kink)

Except it’s reader enforcing it.

Simon had canceled too many dates, had made too many excuses. You reached your last straw when he went and forgot your damn anniversary.

Simon was in hell. He’d groveled on his knees, finally realizing the depth of his mistake. He’d shown up consistently after the night he’d found you sobbing and packing your bags. Extra dates, gifts, almost incessant cuddles. But part of you was still bitter.

He wasn’t sleeping on the couch. No, he’d graduated past that a few weeks ago. But you hadn’t let him anywhere near your pussy yet. Simon had respected your boundaries. Even when you drove him nuts on purpose, dressing in the sluttiest clothing you could muster, pleasuring yourself in front of him but not letting him touch, even kissing him till he was all heated then pulling away. He tried jerking off. The best result he got was a pathetic dribble of cum and no real pleasure. His dick and balls were all swollen, and he was so pent up. Your body had him spoiled. What can he say? He was obsessed with you, and nothing was quite as good without you anymore— especially sex.

Finally, you had mercy on him… kind of. This was another ploy of yours to torture him, and Simon knew that. But he was desperate enough to play your game.

You’d kissed him till both your lips were wet and swollen. Then you dragged him to your shared bedroom. He’d pulled you on top of his face. As eager as he was to finally sink into your perfect pussy, he wanted to make you cum a few times first.

Works for you. You’d turned around and sat your whole weight on his face. While he ate you out like a man starved, you riled and teased his cock. He was almost ready to burst by the time he let you go.

“Poor baby. You’re ready to have a nice, good cum, aren’t you?” You mocked. “Y-Yes! Please, m-mommy.” Simon stuttered. The word slipped out. “Good boy.” You began to jerk him off. Your movements were quick and rough. Simon writhed and jolted at the pain mixed with pleasure. His hands came to grasp at yours. “Ah, fuck, pleeeaaase!” He begged like a prayer. He knew he couldn’t hold it, but his orgasm wouldn’t be anywhere near satisfactory unless he was in you. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you cum in me.” You chuckle. He squeezed his eyes shut in relief. His body sinks back into the bed, reassured. He didn’t noticed the glint in your eyes.

The pleasure builds up again. His eyes gaze up at yours, and his body freezes at the peak. True to your words, you straddle him, fast as lightning, and let him cum inside.

But it’s only the tip. His orgasm shoots through him for a brief second. Then, it crashes into a ruin. You smirk and moan at his milky cum coating your insides. You lift yourself off him so you can finger and spread it all over your pussy. Simon freezes then bursts into sobs.

“Shh, don’t worry, love. We’re not done yet.” You say as you slip the oh-so-sensitive and flushed head of his penis into your cunt. Simon’s body jolts like he got shot. “I’ll let you cum, again and again and again. I’ll even let you do it inside me. But just remember: just the tip.”

Simon being needy after deployment

Shy Simon

Falling in love with Simon

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about TF141 experiencing Asian traffic for the first time

These men have been through war and torture. Yet somehow, none of that has scared them quite as much their wife driving them on a two-wheeler. The bike swerves at ungodly angles, and the men’s breath hitch. Their knuckles are white, their buttholes are clenched shut from the tension. They turn to god for the first time in only he knows how long to pray for their lives to be spared.

Blissfully unaware of their terror, their wife chatters on. Every once in a while, she lifts her hand off the steering to emphasize her words or point something out. Their souls leave their body and narrowly miss sinking all the way to hell in those moments.

All sorts of filth spits from their mouths at the 360-degree traffic. No one pays attention to the rules, not even the policemen. People walk mere centimeters from whizzing vehicles, and those vehicles race in tangled lines around each other. The soldiers can’t count the number of times it seemed like they’d inevitably crash.

Yet, somehow, they make it. When they get off, skin pale and legs trembling, their wife doesn’t seem fazed in the least. “What’s wrong, love? Wasn’t the traffic great?! It’s not usually this calm!”

Simon in trouble with foreign wife

[yousummonedme]

Just Thinking About: Simon who needs more

Fucking you in missionary, gazing into your eyes with his body shoved up against yours isn’t enough, so he hikes your legs over his shoulders and presses deeper inside.

Kissing you goodbye isn’t enough, so he comes back for another kiss… then another… then another. Thirty seconds later, he’s got you caged against the wall, devouring your mouth. It’s so easy and messy, the way his tongue delves into your lips and the way he sucks at your spit.

He starts on his stomach to give you oral. You’re lying down with your legs parted. But it’s not enough to taste you; he needs you taking over all his senses and suffocating him. So he flips you around and seats you on his face like a throne before returning to eating you out.

Being in the same house isn’t enough. When he has a day off, you can’t count the number of times he molds his body against yours or touches you in some way.

“Fucking perv.” You mutter as he deeply inhales your scent before returning to his business.

“Fucking perv.” You repeat when you realize that wasn’t enough, so he went to your bedroom to jerk himself off while smelling your panties. Maybe even that isn’t enough either because next thing you know, you’re riding him, his mouth gagged with your panties and savoring the slight flavor.

more of Simon being needy for you

When he wants your pussy

Shy loverboy Simon

Authoress’ note: Hii, y’all! Feel free to drop a comment or DM me with a thought

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about: Simon Riley who’s just so dumb

(cw: smut, puppy play, dom-sub dynamics). MDNI.

What’s the point of a guy so gigantic, so muscular, so big in the dick; but all he can do is follow around mob boss reader like a big stupid puppy? She put him to some use at least being her guard dog.

Who only does whatever she tells him to. If she tells him to jump, he’ll jump, then remember he’s supposed to ask how high and get confused mid-air and trip over his big clumsy feet. His obedience is unquestioning. Her word is law, so if it means breaking others, so be it.

Who is loyal to only her, has eyes only for her. A rival tried to lure Simon to his gang with suitcases of money. The next morning, she showed up to her office with his and his henchmen’s corpses waiting inside. Simon smiled, all pleased, like a dog who’d fetched a ball and was now wagging his tail for its owner’s approval. She made him scrub the stains by hand as she yelled at him for two hours. “You fucking bloodied my office, Simon! What if the police had caught this and put me in jail?!” Dumb puppy was hard the whole time.

He’s so pathetic he begged for her to sit on his face to relieve her tension after a really stressful time. But he came in his pants twice just from eating her out, so she punished him by making him hump her leg like the mutt he was. When he whined at the overstimulation, she muzzled him with her panties.

Dumb puppy doesn’t know how big he is. He’s constantly bumping into things or knocking them over. Once, cheeks red, he muttered a “M sorry” to a corpse he’d just tripped over. Upon realizing 1. the corpse was dead, 2. the corpse was an enemy who’d dared to steal your territory, and 3, you were glaring holes through him, he turned even darker crimson.

His lack of awareness is worse when he’s slamming into you with that huge cock. You’d looked so god damn gorgeous with your ass up for him. He’d barely located your hole and begun thrusting stupidly like he was in rut. He’s unaware that you’re barely holding onto your sanity. You just feel so good, and he can’t help but get all messy. He covers you with droolly, hot open-mouthed kisses from how fucked-dumb he is. Then, when he’s done filling you up, he’ll lap it out of your pussy like a dog.

People are surprised he doesn’t just… rebel. He’s twice her size and width. He could pick her up with just one arm with ease. He’s all scar and muscle— not someone who needs to prove himself. And yet, he wears a collar with her name engraved on it.

Sequel to this

More Simon x dom! reader smut

Shy baby Simon 🥹