rawme-price
Being a broke college student, you can't afford a new car and can hardly afford to fix your current rust bucket.
So you take it to the sketchy mechanic most of your friends told you to avoid. People call him ghost. He's some ex-military, you think, a real ugly mug and general weirdness about him. But...he agreed to take a look at your car for free, so you can at least see if it's an issue you can ignore for another day.
Only for him to tell you no, your car is on it's last legs and just fixing the essentials will put you out of your home. So you beg, plead for some way to drop the price, and watch as ghosts smile grows, scars pulling at the skin "oh, love, I know jus' the thing."
He bends you over the workbench with his oil-stained hands, and doesn't bother to prevent the dirt smudging onto your clothes.
You ask him to put on a rubber at least and he shoots back "I'll do it for free if you let me finish inside."
Which is how you end up sitting uncomfortably on the single chair in the workshop. Every shift makes you grimace, ghosts cum steadily leaking out after the two loads he pumped into you.
He fixes your car and true to his word doesn't charge you. Still, you get a firm pat on your ass and a muttered "come back again, love. I'll change yer shitty tires for free if you blow me."
...you try not to think about how your car is running smoother than it has in months on the ride home.
have been trying to teach myself a semeter worth of orgo in one day for my final tomorrow. not going well. send reinforcements and tell my mother i love her.
jigsaw | five | masterlist
You and Simon walk for a while. Through the night until the sun casts a faint purple glow on the horizon and the city fizzles out to houses, yards, winding roads, and sparse street lights. Blisters nip at your ankles as you walk at his side in a quiet daze. The adrenaline gone from your system, you feel like a husk. Like you abandoned your brain at that shop when you ran.
Your eyes stay on Simon’s back. He could’ve easily killed you, back in your house. It only would’ve taken a split second, a twitch of his finger. It barely took him ten minutes to take down the seven or eight people that found you in the alley.
Military, he had told you. Special forces.
poor bartender. part 5 of the best served cold au.
Some AU requests for the beloveds... thank you 🥁⚓️💙
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader — 18+
CWs: smut, pwp, surreptitiously getting the cherry popped. simon is is a little shit here lol you're worse
wc: 6.3k
Inspired by the gorgeous @/rememberwren's Threshold, which is one of my favourite fics ever.
The weather outside is frigid, and the HQ is almost empty, aside from a few who are stuck inside due to never-ending shifts.
The city at the horizon glistens in snow, glitters with festivities. Although the gorgeous view is a welcome sight, the mood is overall sour, as most of the soldiers would rather be home on Christmas Eve.
But Simon’s got nowhere to go, and apparently neither do you. For now, you’re both content with the spot you’ve secured in the rec room for the remainder of the evening. The fanciest of the seats. The softest ones, with the tanned leather intact and the cushions still plush.
You look awfully relaxed, slumped back on the loveseat while sipping on your beer, with your eyes lazily roaming the ceiling. Christmas sounds like it’s going to be boring, uneventful, and quiet, and Simon cannot wait for it to roll around exactly like that—
“We should fuck, Riley,” you say. “To kill some time.”
tenderfoot / 08 - the river
price x f!reader / masterlist
see masterlist for fic tags
Much of the day passes in a blur.
John doesn’t push. Not a single barked order or reminder to pick up the pace or cut a break short. He gives you space and doesn’t comment on the sudden absence of your usual chatter.
Gaz x f!reader drabble. CW: noncon voyeurism. unedited. MDNI
"Think you're really gonna like what I've got for you this week." Behind his counter, Kyle looks good as ever - confident in his choice and in himself. You've no doubt he's right.
"Eighties action B-movie?" You prompt, hopeful. Kyle always sets the best tapes aside for you, a difficult feat considering the amount of junked VHSs he probably has to quality check each week, the pile of outdated films being donated to his retro-chic video rental shop growing every day.
"Better," he winks, because he's perhaps a little evil and he loves watching you flounder every time he does.
This time at least, you can hide your nerves in the dubious look you cast the tape. "Mysterious. Are you pawning this off on me to avoid being killed in seven days?"
Kyle just laughs, does you the courtesy of pretending he doesn't notice how much tighter it winds you. "Standard, no budget horror. Chills and thrills. Awkward sex scenes, bad props. What more could you want?"
And the thing is, you can't think of much else, so you rent the tape.
Simon Riley vs no nut november
He scoffed at you and rolled his eyes hearing something as stupid as that.
"it's an event for virgins to feel better about themselves." He grunted out as he made his morning tea, his thick, muscled back facing you, flexing with every movement.
"maybe you just wouldn't last, scared to put your pride and ego on the line."
That irritated him, flaring up his competitive streak. You could see the way his jaw clenched, molars grinding together. Simon didn't like to be challenged, and he certainly didn't like it when someone said he wasn't capable of something, especially his pretty girl.
"ya' saying I can't?"
"nope..."
"we'll see then, hmm?"
And just like that, the bets were on. Day one began, and you were already rubbing up on him, trying your best to sabotage the competition with soft touches and inviting words. You made it hard for him, wearing one of his shirts, pressing your chest against his back as he stood at the counter.
"does your cock hurt? I could hold it in my hand if you wanted..." You offer, already feeling over his big, bulky body, down his tensed abs and to the hem of his sweatpants. You only got a grunt as a reply, and a light smack on your hand when you tried to palm his heavy, twitching cock through the thin fabric.
Simon would never admit it, but he was aching. He wanted to squeeze the fat of your hips and pull you back on his aching cock, push his ugly mug into your soft tits and split you open so deliciously on his cock. But unfortunately, proving you wrong came first on his priority list.
By day two Simon was irritated and grouchy. His dick ached, his balls ached, all he wanted was to sink into your warm, wet cunt and spurt his hot, thick cum deep inside.
You were pulling out all the plays in the book, showering with the door open, touching yourself so he could hear every lewd squelch when your fingers slide into your wet heat, something that he could have if he just relinquished his pride. The final straw was when you bent over in front of him, claiming that you were "just looking for something I dropped".
That's how you ended up with your face smushed into the pillows and your body trembling from overstimulation. He was everywhere, overwhelming your poor senses, heavy balls slapping against the fat of your ass, rutting into your from behind.
Your prayed the apartment walls were thick enough that the neighbours couldn't head the loud squelches and schlicking sounds coming from your greedy cunt and the even louder whines and moans coming from you. It was just so hard to keep your mouth shut when Simon was rolling his strong hips into yours like that, the fat, drooling tip leaking right against your cervix.
"don't run from this, yeah?" Simon tried to sound cocky, but his voice was lying, he sounded ruined, fucked-out and needy. "you just had to tease me all fuckin' day. Tryin' to push it, huh?"
Before you know it, a heavy hand lands on the back of your head, pushing your face back down into the pillows, muffling your moans, your body jostling and sweat-slicked beneath all his heat and muscle. You couldn't even nod along to his words, to get him going again and tease him for folding so fast because your poor pussy was getting fucked dumb, twitching around him, overwhelming by the pace, the familiar pressure in your tummy building, how Simon was grinding against the gooey bundle of nerves on your warm, welcoming walls.
"fuck your stupid fuckin' november" He grumbled under his breath, mostly to himself and his bruised ego. "i'm gonna cum inside you, i'll do it every day if I feel like it too."
A small whine escaped in response, your pussy betraying you, giving Simon a squeeze, trying to milk his cock and pull him back in.
"you like that, huh? you want my cum?" Simon groaned, deep and low, gritting his teeth with a wolfish grin. He swears under his breath, veins practically popping in his neck as he tries to hold back his orgasm, but the way your cunt was sucking him back in had his eyes squeezing shut, and then he was emptying himself inside you.
Thick, deep ropes of cum flooded your poor pussy, mushroom shaped tip probing against your spongy depths, shallow thrusts and hard rolls of his hips following soon after, working his sperm into you. You weren't much better unfortunately, his pretty, soft girl, usually looking so divine, now a quivering mess, lying limply underneath him while a sticky mess formed on the sheets.
"no nut november, what a stupid thing." he grunt roughly, already dragging you closer by your hips. "more like let see how much you can take this november."
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a/n: ...hey... sorry for disappearing for like 4 weeks lol. this is not proofread :(
