Can We Stay Awhile? Simon Ghost Riley

Can We Stay Awhile? ♡ Simon “Ghost” Riley

summary: a heartfelt farewell between Simon and you, where your unspoken emotions and a tender embrace define your parting; despite promises to keep in touch, you part with unexpressed feelings and missed opportunities. tags/trigger warnings: sfw, f!reader, emotional goodbye, sadness/heartache, longing and separation, maybe unrequited love, tis’ sad wc: 2.2k

pt.1 ･ pt. 2 ･ pt.3

“You didn’t have to do this for me, y’know…” You gaze idly out the window, the outside world zipping past in a glaucous haze.

“I know,” he answers, his voice one could describe as only tristful. You smile softly, watching him as he shifts uncomfortably underneath your stare.

So why are you? You wanted to ask, yet held your tongue so as not to ruin the peaceful mood by forcing him into a confession. Sometimes, you wonder if pushing him will bring him closer or turn him away. You knew he was a tough nut to crack, and so were you; opening up took time, but time was running thin.

Darkness covered the outside world, with only the faintest hint of the sun's early light slipping through the morning mist that gently clung to your window—a somber, overcast blanket draped over the sky, a common sight in this country. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel it somehow mirrored the escalating tension in the air.

You were finally leaving.

Simon was the first to offer to drive you to the airport, despite knowing that you had to leave early in the morning. His constant willingness to go out of his way for you always stood out. Even when you tried to decline his offer, he insisted on being there for you. Simon wasn't the type to be openly affectionate, so you perceived his actions as expressing his care and concern for you.

And yet, he hadn’t spoken a word until now, only answering in grunts or shakes of his head. You could tell just by a glance that he was hurt even if his face remained stoic and his body motionless.

"We'll keep in touch," you assured, your words tinged with empathy. However, Simon's frustration only intensified.

As you stared at him, hoping for a response, you couldn't help but admire his striking features. You recalled the moment when he took off his mask in front of you for the first time, and how his satisfied smile lit up his face as he saw your reaction. "And I promise to find the time to come and see you," you whispered, feeling a little disheartened by his silence.

“Mhm,” he grunted, his fingers flexing against the steering wheel.

“I don’t get it,” you huff, your eyes narrowing in irritation. “You travel for work all the time.”

“M’ not upset.” He sighs, never taking his eyes off the road ahead. “Not wit’ you, anyway.”

“Oh,” you say rather dumbly, slumping back into your seat. “Then, why—”

“I just…” he sighs again; a moment passes as he attempts to turn his thoughts into words. “Do I have tuh say it? Ya know how I feel about ya’.” The resignation in his voice was palpable as if he was waving up a white flag in surrender.

“I know,” you sympathize, feeling the total weight of what’s to come. “I’m sorry, Simon, I–”

“Dun’t apologize,” he cuts you off abruptly. He clears his throat before softening his tone. “S’not yer fault, love.”

“I know, I just wish that…” You close your mouth, struggling to find the right words. “I wish we got to spend more time together, that’s all.”

“Aye,” he swallows, jerking his head in a nodding motion. “Me too.”

He couldn't quite explain the thoughts and feelings swirling around in his head. It was a flurry of emotions. Simon wasn't good at them and never had been. He could handle a gun better than expressing his feelings, but you were different. Everything was different with you.

Silence again dominates the scene, leaving an air of melancholy and awkwardness. You turn the music dial to drown it out, and he silently thanks you. For once, he is content with not speaking. He doesn’t want to fight or argue. He wants to savor his limited time, even though it does little to soothe the ache in his chest.

Watching the front of the airport come into view, you struggled to express your gratitude. "Thanks for driving me," you finally managed to say, the words stuck in your throat as if they were hesitant to leave.

“Don’t mention it…” He trailed off weakly, feeling a mix of disappointment and frustration welling up inside of him. The airport grew closer and closer, the white concrete building standing out in the darkness like a beacon.

Simon pulled his vehicle into the drop-off lane, his grip on the steering wheel tight and strained. The engine hummed to a halt as the car stopped, but neither of you had yet to exit.

“I have to go now,” you said, looking at him, eyes wide and searching his face for a reaction. “I’ll miss you.”

His eyes met yours, and you saw so many emotions flicker within his gaze: sadness, anger, and something else that bordered on resignation. “Yeah… me too.” He muttered gruffly, trying to keep his emotions under control.

A beat of silence passed between you both, the air heavy with unsaid words and unexpressed feelings. “Be safe,” Simon finally spoke again, his tone curt and somewhat hoarse.

“I’ll try,” you quipped, reaching for even the tiniest crumb of humor, your lips quivering into a small smile, yet your eyes betrayed you, your face remained atrabilious.

His lips twitched involuntarily, almost mirroring the hint of a smile. “Don’t try,” he said, his voice tinged with wryness. “Ya’ know how I worry ‘bout ya.”

Simon knew that you were trying to lighten the mood and shield him from your emotions, as well as protecting yourself. However, he saw through your brave facade and could see the sadness in your eyes despite your forced smile.

“I know,” you grinned, huffing a short breath of laughter. “But I’ll update you; tell you what I’m doing and where I’m going.” You reassured, fighting back the urge to hold his hand. “I’ll come back, I promise.” You repeated, more serious this time.

His gaze softened a hint, a flicker of vulnerability passing over his rugged features. “Y’better,” he grumbled, the hint of teasing in his voice belied by a hint of desperation.

Simon leaned back in his seat, taking a moment to look at you, at how your hair frames your face, the slight tremble in your lip, and the shine in your eyes.

“I’ll be waitin’ for ya’,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Just… take care of yourself, arright?”

“I will,” you nod, your gaze finding his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again. You shoot him one final smile before opening the passenger door and stepping outside.

You wait outside for Simon to open his trunk and collect your suitcases. The weather has warmed, but the brumous winds haven’t lost their bite.

He silently steps out, closing the driver's door before going to the back, opening the trunk, and unloading your suitcases. His movements are mechanical, his mind preoccupied with the idea that you’ll be gone soon.

As Simon silently loads the suitcases into your waiting hands, his gaze shifts back and forth to the airport entrance. The soft morning sun begins to emerge, casting a warm glow on your face, and Simon feels a pang of longing in his heart as he takes in the sight.

“Goodbye, Simon.” Your lip wobbles as you reach to hold him by his face, leaning forward and placing a chaste peck on his cheek.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” you whispered as you pulled away, holding up your heavy luggage with a grunt. “Thanks for everything.” You bit your lip, choking back your tears as they warmed your eyes.

He struggled to swallow, feeling the constriction in his throat as he bid you farewell. He couldn't move, feeling rooted to the ground for a brief moment. His muscles tensed like coiled springs as a swarm of thoughts invaded his mind, gripping him in a vice of unease.

He suddenly reached out as you were about to turn away, gently grabbing your wrist. “Wait,”

He pulled you back to him, his other hand moving to the nape of your neck as he enveloped you in a fierce embrace. He pressed you against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, desperate and protective.

Simon buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory. Pressure built in his chest, and the dam started to crack for the first time in a while.

You were left speechless by his spontaneous act of affection, your body frozen still in shock before you let go of your bags, uncaring how they fell as you threw your arms around his shoulders, smushing your cheek into his shoulder as your feet lifted from the ground. You squeezed him tightly, his skin dampening as you silently cried.

Simon's fingertips grasped the fabric of your shirt, clinging tightly to his grip on you, verging on possessiveness as his body slightly quivered while he rested his chin against the top of your head.

He was engulfed in a wistful trance, feeling like a mighty tide was pulling him under. However, amidst it all, a profound and overwhelming sense of emptiness washed over him at the mere thought of your departure.

Reluctantly, you slowly released your tight hold on him, allowing your toes to barely touch the solid ground. His arms still wrapped around your lower back as your hand came to rest upon his chest. You giggled, delicately dabbing away the moisture underneath your eyes, followed by a wet sniffle.

His intense gaze locked firmly on yours, carefully examining the contours of your face. He observed the gentle flutter of your eyelashes as you tried to blink away your tears and noticed how your lips slightly parted as if they had a thousand and one unspoken words waiting to be said. Your faces were so close that your noses almost touched, the warmth of your breath mingling in the small space between you.

He longed to bridge the gap between you, to take your face in his hands and claim your lips fervently. Instead, he settled to rest his forehead against yours in a silent display of affection.

“Off with you,” he whispered, pulling away with a tight-lipped smile.

With a sense of hesitation, he slowly withdrew his hands from your body, and the lingering sensation of his touch left behind a profound and tangible sense of emptiness. He wanted to say so many things. Stay, don’t go. I’m a fool. I’m in love, and I’m scared. But none of them escaped his lips.

Instead, all he said was, “Give me a ring when ya’ land, arrite?”

"Of course," you whispered back hoarsely, your voice barely audible above the ambient noise. You nodded slowly before letting your heels touch back to the concrete with a sharp click, its sound echoing through the bustling street.

As you turned to leave, with his help, you gathered your belongings. You expressed a gentle and definitive thank you before pivoting away, leaving him in the background as you walked towards the front. Before entering, you looked back, offering a slightly awkward wave as a final goodbye.

He remained still beside the car, observing as the space between you widened with each stride. Folding his arms across his chest, he took several deep breaths to control himself. With a feeble wave, he leaned against the car, his emotions hidden behind a carefully constructed mask of stoicism.

His eyes remained fixated on the door through which you disappeared as if expecting you to come walking back at any moment. However, reality soon sank in, and he knew he had to accept that you were gone. Still, he lingered for a few moments longer, his mind replaying the scene repeatedly.

He tightly pressed his lips together, grinding his teeth and clenching his jaw, battling the tumultuous thoughts that were tearing him apart from the inside.

Eventually, he pushed himself away from the car before returning inside.

As he fumbled with the controls, attempting to resume the music to fill the void of silence, he became aware that your Bluetooth had disconnected. Agitated, he swallowed hard and swiftly shifted the car into drive, eager to return home.

The drive back seemed to stretch endlessly, with a profound silence suffocating him. Not one stray thought crossed his mind as he drove, his entire concentration fixed on the road ahead. The sky gradually shifted from a foggy blue to a soft glow, the gradual light of dawn revealing a world emerging from its slumber.

As you settled into your seat and the airplane ascended into the sky, you gazed out of the vacant window, observing the somber clouds gliding past. You pressed the heel of your palm against your quivering lips, struggling to contain the wrecked sob welling up inside you.

Throughout the flight, you only wanted to turn your brain off, sleep away from this mess, and pretend it didn't happen. Simon was just a man who made your time a little more worthwhile; it was simply an enjoyable experience and nothing more.

As soon as you stepped off the plane, however, you felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and hear his voice. You couldn't deny your deep longing for him despite trying to maintain your composure and pride. How much you missed him was almost painful, especially considering you had never established an official relationship. Yet you were caught up in tears over someone who had never been yours.

A sense of desperation washed over you as you reached for the phone. You dialed the number Simon had left, anticipation building as the phone rang once, twice, and again. Your hope dwindled with each unanswered ring as he failed to pick up. He never answered. And he never called you back.

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kinktober day XII: overstimulation — könig ⤿ nsfw, f!reader, overstimulation, cunnilingus kinktober day XI: uniform — simon “ghost” riley ⤿ nsfw, f!reader, uniform kink, rough sex

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kinktober day XIII: blowjobs — john price

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Blue Velvet 𝜗𝜚 John Price

minors do not interact! | mdni!

summary: you wake up hungover, naked, and not alone. you don’t remember what had happened, but he’s willing to show you. tags/trigger warnings: f!reader, reference to drunken sex, reference to alcohol and smoking, hinting to future sex, flirting, fluff, suggestive content, no explicit smut, maybe ooc john? wc: 900

a/n: this is my first official post on this account. Let me know if you’d like to see more!

You first notice the intoxicating scent of a lit cigarette, the smell gray and addictive. As you opened your eyes, you became more aware of the body you lay across. It was hard and yet somehow soft at the same time.

The room was bathed in a reddish-orange glow due to the light hitting your curtains, casting an almost erotic impression. It didn’t take you long to realize you were bare beneath your sheets, a slight sheen of sweat beaded onto your skin.

Suddenly, a firm yet gentle hand planted on your head, petting through your hair. A finger curled around a strand falling over your cheek, twisting itself repeatedly.

“Awake now, princess?” A sudden voice rumbled from above you. His voice was husky and gravelly like he hadn’t been awake too long before you. Refusing to answer, you continued to lay there estranged, trying to piece the memories together on how you may have ended up here—with a man.

The throbbing ache in your temple indicated how you may have gotten into this situation.

Sitting yourself upwards, you gasped at the feeling of something hard against you. Hearing the stranger chuckle to himself caused heat to rise to your cheeks as you cursed yourself and whoever this was.

Swallowing your fear, you looked down into the face of your new lover. You bit your lip to suppress another gasp; he was handsome. Ruggedly so. And you watched him in awe as he turned his head to the side to blow out another puff of smoke. And yet, his eyes remained transfixed on you. They were so—blue, you noticed.

You almost frowned at the knowing grin spreading across his cheeks. He knew you liked what you saw. Smug bastard. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel all the more drawn to him.

“Ya' alroight?” He asked, bringing his hand down to stroke absentmindedly at your waist, rubbing sweet circles into your skin. He was so comforting that you almost told yourself he wasn’t real.

“Fine…” You cringed at the scratchy-softness of your voice. You darted your eyes downwards, only to be met with his broad chest, hairy and heaving with every breath.

You trembled as you listened to him hum thoughtfully; the smokiness of his tone had you nearly melting.

“Yer sure?” He asked again, stretching his arm to your nightstand, patting away his ash into a residing cup. He looked back at you sheepishly as if to apologize for his rudeness. You were too lost to mind, though.

“I don’t remember what happened.” You blurted out a bit uncharacteristically. Sighing at the feeling of his large hand traveling down the scope of your back, you subconsciously arched into it. He hummed again, seemingly digesting your words but making no move to explain.

“Carn’t say I rememba' much either, sweet'art.” And oh, the dripping honeyed words had you utterly swooning. You almost let out another moan when he put away his cigarette to touch you more. You noticed how big his hands were, rubbing across your body as if he owned it—like it was his.

“Oh.” You breathed out rather dumbly, watching as he rested his head back further into the pillows, closing his eyes with a blissful smile. And you stayed perched on top of him, gazing down at him in wonder.

“Carn't complain much, I'spose.” You rolled your eyes, unimpressed with his lazy attempt to flirt. If you could even call it that. But you weren’t perturbed for long, resuming your somewhat creepy staring.

He blinked his eyes open again, matching your concentrated stare with his own. The silence seemed to tick by rather slowly as tension threaded between you.

“Are ya' waitin' fer me ta' leave?” He grinned, but his eyes flashed with concern. His hand drifted towards your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. You shook your head in response before descending back down to rest your head on his chest, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

His chest vibrated from underneath you as he chuckled, splaying his touch over your lower back. You shuddered once more as he dragged his nails up your spine, goosebumps trailing over your skin. You sighed as you relaxed again, silently enjoying his up-and-down motions.

And then, he stopped. You tilted your head upwards to whine at the loss of the euphoric feeling he was giving you. But before you could utter a sound, he rolled you onto your back, situating himself between your thighs.

Squeaking in surprise, you blinked up at him in astonishment. “What’re you doing?” You whispered, knowing you'd hurt your throat if you spoke any louder.

He said nothing as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead, then your cheek, descending downwards to your neck and chest. You suck in a breath as he reaches your nipple, pulling into his mouth with his tongue as his opposite hand begins its soft groping on the other.

You rake your nails through his hair, moaning at the soft groan you pull from him in return. Finally, he pulls away, leaving a lewd trail of saliva connecting the two of you before it breaks away. He looks up at you again with a self-satisfied sparkle in his eyes.

“How abou' I give ya' somethin' to rememba' this time?”

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ᰔ kinktober day XII: overstimulation — könig

könig x reader * warnings: 18+, f!reader, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering * wc: 1.7k

ᰔ kinktober day XI: uniform — simon “ghost” riley

simon “ghost” riley x reader * warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, rough sex, fingering * wc: 1.7k

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Tomorrow is a Long Time 𝜗𝜚 John Price

Kinktober Day V: Masturbation

summary: the hubby misses you tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, masturbation (m!recieving), longing, yearning, captain peepaw’s tasty loins, yummm, author does not attempt at accents wc: 618 a/n: i kept this one short sorry i was pretty busy today because my washing machine was broken lol

MASTERLIST

John stood beneath the steaming spray of the shower, feeling the hot water soak into his skin and muscles, easing the tension from his body. He let out a deep, involuntary groan as the cascading water massaged his back, his hands dragging down his face as the warm droplets dripped from his hair and over his closed eyes.

He slid his hand down his stomach, leaning his head backward as his mind conjured images of you: sprawled out on his bed, deep moans of his name slipping past your pretty parted lips, eyebrows furrowed until the crease between them deepened. He fantasized about your pretty eyes gazing up at him, nails digging deep into his back as you arched your chest, pushing your perfect tits into his awaiting mouth.

He let out a deep grunt as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, beginning in slow strokes as he squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to travel back in time just before he left, pounding your pliant body into your bed until tears were slipping down your flushed cheeks, sobbing his name as you came, clenching around his cock like a vice refusing to let go.

John rubbed over his bulbous tip, his hips bucking into his hand, pretending you were bent before him, ass spread, and waiting for him to sink his undeserving prick into your wet and greedy hole.

He called out your name in hushed whispers, trying to keep his voice low as he pleasured himself at the thought of you. It's only been one week, and he could feel the longing begin to settle deep in his bones. He wished he could be with you, holding you in his arms as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

He spread his thighs, placing his hand on the wall in front of him, leaning forward as his movements picked up in pace, pretending his fist was your sweet cunt enveloping him in your velvety walls, your pussy so wet it was running down your thighs and onto the floor.

As the images painted vividly behind his eyelids, his moans increased in volume, and he called out your name in desperation. He was so close. His top teeth sink into his bottom lip, and his sensitive skin reddens under the pressure.

“Please…” he moaned as if you were around to hear, but in his mind, you were. In his mind, it was your hand instead of his, taking his cock in your soft and smaller hands, no calluses, just gentle deft fingers moving up and down along his shaft, collecting his pre as you sank to your knees, darting your pink little tongue to taste.

“Fuck!” He barked, his wrist twisting even faster as he worked himself to completion, thick ropes of white shooting out from his tip. Some of it landed on the wall, oozing downwards towards the floor before sinking into the drain. But he pictured he was fucking it down into your willing throat like a good girl.

John didn’t want to open his eyes, to face the reality that you were not really there, so he kept his eyes closed, pretending you were still there. You helped him ride out his high like you always do while kissing along his neck and chest, telling him how much you loved him.

“I love you too,” he whispered back into an empty room, his hand eventually slowing into a stop as the last of his cum escaped from his tip. He reopened his eyes, staring down at his hand still wrapped around his cock; he couldn’t help but heave in disappointment even though he already knew you weren’t there.

“Fuck I miss you…”

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Heaven Is a Place on Earth ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

summary: reader gives arthur some well deserved lovin'. tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), rough manhandling, smoking, praise, dom!arthur, sub!reader, cursing, crying, use of pet names ("sweetheart", "good girl", "woman"), author attempts at accents wc: 984

You peer up at him from below, observing how his sharp features become bathed in a warm, golden glow following the rhythmic flickering of his worn metal lighter. With each deliberate flick, the flame ignites, casting an ethereal radiance across his face. As he tilts his chin upward, the flickering flame illuminates the tip of his cigarette, casting a soft glow on his chiseled features. The reflection of the dancing flame dances in his mesmerizing blue-green eyes.

Your eyelashes flutter, and a long sigh escapes your lungs and through your parted lips—wet, red, and kissed raw. Your fingers curl along Arthur’s thighs, anchoring yourself to the rough texture of his jeans. Your knees start to ache against the hardwood floor, grounding you as your eyes get lost in him. He breathes in an inhale, his eyes falling shut, his brows ever so gently drawing closer as his pink lips morph into the shape of his cigarette.

As he exhales, smoke dances from his parted lips in tendrils as his form slumps back into the cushions. His hand reaches up to pet your hair, smoothing the rebellious flyaways the same hand had caused.

“Y’okay down there, missy?” he asks cautiously, yet the side of his mouth quirks into a smug grin. His fingers delicately touch the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before he traces the outline of your jaw to your chin, tilting it further upwards.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat.

“Y’sure?” his southern drawl dropping in an octave as his eyes drink in the sight of you down on your knees before him, worshiping him.

You nod languidly, hands creeping towards his thick leather belt. He lifts his hips in response as he flicks away the falling ashes.

“Good girl…”

You let out a choked-back moan; his voice envelops you like the comforting warmth of the sun on a chilly day, leaving fresh goosebumps across your skin.

Your breath becomes shaky as you unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly. You reach your hand into his pants, cupping his forming erection in your hand and squeezing gently for good measure. Arthur sighs, his large hand continuing to stroke your body, making you feel small.

“Go’head,” he encourages, albeit a tad impatient. You pull him out, his cock thick in width with veins running up and down his length. The tip is red and already oozing with pre. You whine at the sight, your thighs rubbing together as your mouth begins to water.

You gaze back up at him as his hand eases behind your neck, coaxing you forward as you part your lips, eager to take him.

He's salty and bitter to the taste. Your tongue shyly laps at his tip, gathering his leaky essence to your taste buds before you wrap your mouth around him. You close your eyes and furrow your brows in concentration.

His hips shift, his thighs spreading wider as delicious groans spill from his sinful mouth, fingers clutching your hair as you take him deeper, trying desperately to reach the base. As soon as his tip grazes the back of your throat, you gag, hands pressing against his abdomen.

“Shhh, easy there,” he consoles, watching as you pull off of him; the strings of spit lewdly break away from his cock as it jumps from your expression, your face flushed and eyes watery, and your lips dark and puffy.

“Look’atchu…” His tender voice softly cooed, and the deep, husky timbre added warmth and depth to his praise.

“Y’alright?” he grins, turning his head to puff another cloud of smoke, the tangy scent of tobacco filling your nostrils.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning your head forward as you take him in your hands, wrapping them around his cock, suckling on the head.

“Fuck,” he grunts deeply, leaning his head back, closing his eyes as he sets the cigarette aside before curling both hands into your hair.

“Jesus, woman,” he growls, urging your face closer and closer as he lifts his hips involuntarily.

You slide your tongue up and down his sensitive skin, twisting and curling, tracing over prominent veins as you slowly make your way down. You take in a stabilizing deep breath before pushing forward, holding back a gag as he slides into your throat.

You peek your eyes open as his mouth forms into an O-like shape, his eyes screwed shut, and his thick brows pull all the way forward. His tongue spews curses and praises, causing your skin to flush deeply.

He holds you in place as he thrusts into your mouth without grace or rhythm. “Fuck, I ain't gonna last, sweetheart,” he warns, his voice tapering off into a whine.

You close your eyes, moaning around him as he uses you for his pleasure; this seems to spur him on as his cock twitches inside your throat as it contracts around him. “M’close,” he grunts, almost sounding in pain.

You brace your hands against his thighs, fighting to keep your eyes open, watching as his bliss-struck face contorts in pleasure. His grip on your hair grows painful as he holds you in place as thick ropes shoot down your esophagus, causing you to sputter, drool dripping down your lips, to your chin, and onto his lap, causing dark, wet spots to form into the seams.

Tears spill down your cheeks as you sniffle before he's easing his softening erection from your warm mouth. He can't help but grin at the sight of you: flushed, messy, and dipping.

“Aww, ain't that a pretty sight.” his eyes twinkle with mischief, dragging his knuckles across your wet cheeks.

Even after his rough manhandling, you lean into his soft touch, your chest still heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. He pulls you into his lap, his hands under your armpits as he drags you upwards. His thigh slips between yours, feeling your arousal dampen his jeans. He chuckles, dragging a heavy hand over his bearded jaw while his other paws at your hip.

“I reckon I should return the favor.”

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