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Honey Dew | 18+ mdni, heavy fauxcest, dad bf!Simon, lite smut lol, age gap (25 yo reader, 38 yo Simon), used of (Dad, pa)
Simon who doesn’t hesitate to introduce you as his daughter to the rest of the 141 with his deathly serious face and tone the other three men can’t help but believe it. He’s pretty private about his life but he’s mentioned you to the guys once or twice. A simple, “Tha kids at home. She’s good ‘nd smart.” John didn’t see any changes on his paper work but isn’t the least but shocked he’s kept something like this. Gaz can’t help but think how you’d be just like Ghost and it makes him laugh. And Soaps gotten a quick glance of a picture that resides in Ghosts wallet—
Your head resting in the palm of your hand, in a shirt that’s just barely touching your thighs, curls covering your face— it’s- it’s a bit much to have as the picture to remember your daughter. But he ignores it, maybe Soap is overthinking it. The random day Ghost brings the 141 to meet you, you’re on your way out the house while they’re going in. You greet him with that pretty smile he likes so much, polite handshakes and jokes all around.
“ ‘Nd where are you goin?” Simon pulls at the loop in your jeans that are all too familiar, too large on your body and hanging on your curves, the bottom of them rolled up to your ankles. The way you look makes Simon curse under his breath, veins popping out of his arms.
“Tutoring Session with a couple of my friends students, I told you right?” You adjust your bag on your shoulder, looking up at him coyly.
You didn’t, but if Simon asked you not to go, as your Dad, he’d be the bad guy. Greedy with his baby when she tries to do good. He lets the hook of your jeans go. Looking you up and down before rustling the curls on your head. You giggle while swatting his hands away, waving the 141 goodbye.
“She’s a good kid, works hard.” John nods.
Simon feels the end of his lips curve upward under his balaclava, “Course she is, she’s mine.”
And let’s say a few hours go by, too long for you to just be out tutoring, the rest of the 141 have gone to sleep, but Simon is there waiting for you. Of course he is, your hushed voices filling the kitchen. You roll your eyes, “I’m an adult, no? I didn’t really know my friend would take us out for a drink after. And he paid too it was nice.”
“He?”
“Yeah, he, with the rest of our friends.” You repeat.
“It’s the fact you went out in those is my problem lovie.” Simons staring again, brown eyes following you move from the fridge to the sink, your shirt rising when you raise your arms as it exposes your stomach, your hips switching unconsciously with every step. That you’re so nonchalantly wearing his jeans like you own them. You turn, leaning against the counter.
“What pa, you jealous?” You ask, gold hoop in your pierced ears hitting your shoulder as you tilt your head to look at him. You bite your lip at the silence, eyes dancing all over his big build.
Simon scuffs, not even bothering to look you in the eyes while he drags you close by the loop in his jeans you’re wearing, large hand sliding down to your ass and squeezing it.
“If I admit that I am,” he bends his face down closer to meet yours, his lips brushing against your plump ones, “What ‘re you gonna do f’ me dove?”
Your hearts pounding, pecking his lips once, your eyes getting lost in his, you ask softly, “What’dyou want me t’ do for you Pa?”
Even with all the exhaustion of work, the 141 aren’t deep sleepers. It only takes a few rustles from outside their rooms, a few creaking floor boards— a muffled moan in the bathroom that makes Gaz get up first. Eyes connecting with Soap from across the hallway once they both open their doors.
“Fuck, you hear that mate?” Gaz whisper yells, confused.
Then there’s another rustle, another muffled moan from the bathroom.
Soap smirks, “Aye, Can’t believe the lass ‘as brought a guy over while her Dad ‘nd his friends ‘er home. Fuckin mental.”
Gaz nods towards the door, “should go scare the bloke off then, Simon would hate t’ hear about this.”
The fucker himself, Simon fucking Riley, on his knees right behind you, bending you over the bathroom sink as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. His flat tongue sliding through your pussy lips and slurping you up clean. His jeans you wore now pooling around your ankles, knees shaking as you try to contain your keens and moans with the back of your hand. It’s sloppy, the way Simon keeps spreading your folds open, his calloused fingers brushing up to yout sensitive clit as he thrusts his tounge in your hole. Lapping everything up that drips down to your thighs and down his chin. Feeling him swirl his pink organ inside your spongey walls.
“Shit, mmmck- feels good Dad, so good!” You gasp, hands gripping on the counter.
Simons gives your ass a smack, chuckling so darkly as he gives your pussy another sloppy French kiss, “she’s such a bloody crybaby ‘nd ‘M the one doin ‘er a favor.” The older man nibbles at the flesh of your thighs, tips of his fingers grazing your pulsing clit.
“What should you say t’me dovie, hm? Let me hear you.”
You mewl in delight, feeling his tongue flick your gushing hole, “T-Thank you Daddy, god, thank you.” It seems to be the only words stuck on your lips as he fucks you with his tongue, in and out and slurping your sweet honey dew from your cunt so loudly it makes your hips shake against his mouth.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou Dad, anngh!” Your head drops down, biting your lip so hard trying to constrain yourself you’re sure you’re gonna draw blood.
A knock hits the door that makes your walls clench around Simons tongue, Soap speaks, “Don’t think yer Da would want t’ ‘ear about ye havin a man here lass.”
Then Gaz, teasing yet threatening “Both ‘f you should come out, we won’t tell on you.”
Your eyes flutter open, “Just- hngh- just one moment!”
You try to push Simon off you, eyebrows knitting together, mumbling out your cute and soft but-but-but. Yet your Dad only shushes you, brushing your hand away, “Should only be focused on me when I’m fuckin you. You thinking about them?”
You whimper out with every emotion rolling over you, embarrassment followed with foolish want for Simon, Simon, Simon, Dad, Dad, Dad, “No sir, just-“
“Then fuck my mouth honey, be good f’me.”
And he guides you through it, one hand on your waist and making you circle your hips on his mouth, shoving his face in your round globes, licking you up fast. His other hand rubbing your slippery bundle of nerves. Your grip his wrist rubbing your clit is tight, jaw slack while your hips rock against his face.
You cum, eyes rolling to your skull and letting out a filthy moan as your pussy spasms. Electricity running through your veins as you hit your peak. Simon pulls away panting, voice raspy while his hands slide up and down your thighs.
“Atta fuckin girl baby, love when you make a mess on me.”
Simon pulls his jeans up your hips, kissing your temple while you let out shudders breaths. “Go to bed kiddo.”
The door finally unlocks, heat spreading through your cheeks and almost down to your bones after your eyes meet Soap and Gaz’s who were wide eyed, eyes practically popping out of their heads when they realize who’s behind you.
The door to the guest room creaks open, revealing a sleepy John Price, eyes still shut and hair every which way, “Is everything alright?” He gruffed out.
You hum, visibly dazed from the high you just hit less than a minute ago, “Just fine sir, good night.”
You brush through the men without a care in the word, giving Gaz and Soap a obvious fucked out smile before shutting your bed door closed. Leaving the three youngest 141 members looking at each other.
Simons got that knowing look on his face, licking his lips that were glossed with your cum. He turns the bathroom light off, nodding at the two men, “Midnight snack with my kid is all guys.”
He wipes his face, walking down the hallway, crooked yet cocky grin on his face, “Goodnight.”
It’s just a little uncommon for you, to get jealous around Country!Simon
I mean, first things first, Simon doesn’t really hang around there ladies all too much. There’s a farmhand who help with the horses and the field, the way Simon politely nods when he’s in town, but besides you the man is very to himself.
So when he gets along very well with one of the women helping in the horse show in the town over, you have to pinch yourself to make sure the icky feeling in your stomach wasn’t you just starting to feel sick.
The girl was pretty, with a gorgeous smile right out of a movie, and a cute little Bob like she was from a 80s magazine— so confident in her work and how she talked and gave instruction. Head high and serious.
You couldn’t do that.
Well not about this. Maybe if it was something else.
You were still new to horses, you were still working on properly training Joansey, your first horse. And Simon helped you, of course he did, he loved horses and he loved farming and the ins and outs of it even on his hardest days. But there’s a sparkle in his brown eyes that you just love to see the chances you can get him to go on and on about what he loves— and that lady so easily brought it out of him. That pleased expression in his eyes, covering his mouth to hide a laugh at something she had said—
“They look good together, don’t they?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, didn’t even realize how agitated you looked from the far end of the pen where you stood while Simon and, Angie circled the pen on their horses. Arms crossed in the cute outfit you’d put to try and grab your husbands attention.
“Yeah! I didn’t think they’d get along so well but they do, but she’s got it goin on, Simons- well he’s big but when he gets nice, he can be around just about anyone—“ it’s a hard smack to the arm from Gaz that gets Soap him to stop.
“Dude.”
“What? I thought Cash was still next t’me—” And he finally looks over at you, realizing that his words were in fact for the wrong person. He rambles, frazzled, “[+]! I really- that’s all friendly! I swear, those two are just friends! It’s nothin goin on!”
You simply turned on your feet, quick strides back to the house like you were fucking Regina George about to throw a fucking hissy fit, just friend- just fucking friends my ass! And you tried to be calm, slamming the front door behind you, marching up the steps to your room to quickly write everything down in the closet. But have you ever put pen to paper so hard and your thoughts just kept trying rush out before you can finish the though and you have no way of catching up?
“Fuck!” You let out frustrated sound, ripping down the complete mess of words and try to start fresh, paper dampened drop by drop while your pen keeps moving, harshing wiping your tears. This wasn’t even worth tears, nothing had actually happened. Simon hadn’t even given you real reason to be jealous. They weren’t overtly touching, or being overly friendly— it’s a hurricane of emotions that just make you feel even worse.
“Lucky? You in here?” And you hear his cowboy boots click with every step as he grows as he nears the white door to the walk in closet. Stopping when he sees the light flick off. The older man lets out a sigh, ends of his lips threatening to lift, giving the door a knock, “Dolly I know you’re in here, I need to talk to ya.”
“I don’t have shit to talk to you about.” You grumble, why would you even say that? You choke on a sob, shaking your head to swallow it back down. You let out a shaky breath, smoothing down your white blouse and trying to calm down. “I’m sorry Mr. Riley, I just- I need a second to get myself together s’all! I gotta change my clothes— they’re all dirty-“
“—Don’t lie t’me [+].”
You notice him shift on the other side, you can imagine the ends of his eyes crinkling together, taking a step back to further examine the situation just as he does everything. And he has, that Riley, light on his feet when making decisions. “You make a decision on whatchu wanna say t’me ‘nd I’ll wait for you.”
And you can hear Simon, rustling on the other side of the door. Taking a seat against the wall and closing his eyes, listing to the house creak. Your eyebrows knit together, you huff, “You don’t have to wait right there.”
“I think I do considerin’ how you like t’ run from me.” He says plainly, arms folding over his chest.
“And what if I hold you up from what you’re supposed t’be doin right now?”
“I’ll wait all day to hear you talk to me Lucky, you know that. Makin sure yer okay is my number one priority over anything on this fuckin planet.”
You can feel your heart squeeze at that, biting the inside of your lip. “I’m really sorry Mr. Riley, I- made you look like you’re dealing with a hassle.”
“You ain’t no damn hassle [+],” he hushed you softly, setting his had down on the hardwood floor, “I’d seen Soap talk to you ‘nd thought I’d have t’ beat his ass. You’ve been down these last couple days, I thought he’d really gone ‘nd hurt you.”
“You noticed?” You ask meekly and there’s a laugh.
“Can’t keep my eyes off a pretty little thang like you, always on my mind,” Simon hums, “Really though, I’d be a bad husband if I didn’t notice if my wife who’s usually loud and headstrong, suddenly don’t have shit to say.”
You finally open the door, patting at your face that’s got small streaks of tears running through your blush, but your still gorgeous as ever. Eyes glossy and plump lips all pouty. “I’ve been really silly these days.” You try to joke off, but Simons rough hand immediately goes to cup your face.
“Silly?”
“Jealous. I shouldn’t have been, I know—“
“About who?” He cocks a brow, teasing ever so lightly.
“You know who…” you glance elsewhere, trying to turn your head but he girls your head to him. Letting your fingers dances over the others on the floor. “Angie, she’s real nice ‘nd all. And everyone likes her. I just- she knows so much and I- I can’t keep up, I feel like. And then lookin at you guys- I got so angry, I didn’t know why. I’ve never gotten like this with you.”
Simon takes a moment, thumb gently going across the apple of your cheek, “Well she knows a lot about horses, I’d expect ‘er to. ‘S her job. But I’d much rather come ‘nd talk to you about it, even though you might not get everythang. You still listen like it’s worth somethin ‘nd you don’t have to.”
You can feel your heart pumping, eyes getting lost in his, your hand covering his on the floor, shyly “W-well were married so- I don’t mind talking to you because- well, I love you.”
And he smiles at that, warm and soft, so handsome with his messy blonde hair, shining in the sunlight that’s peaking through the blinds of the room, tanned and scared face showing in the warm light, “And I’d listen to you go on and on ‘bout that city shit all day, sweetheart. I’d love talkin to ya ‘bout anythin because I love you. And I love being with you, you’re my best friend.”
He brings your face close, pink lips brushing against your two tone lips ever so gently, “I’d want to be with you a thousand life times baby. No one else. Just us.”
And he kisses you, one that’s got your heart threatening to run away with how fast it’s beating, you cheeks grow warm as he pulls away, eyes lost on him.
“You’re a real romantic Mr. Riley.”
Another kiss, feeling one end of his lip curve upward, “Course I am Sugar, had t’ marry me for some reason.”
a/n: oh how corny and cheesy was this? Rushed? Yes. Gimmie 4000 on number 3 Alex
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concern isn’t bullying, ariana grande is unwell that’s a fact
Concern and having random ppl say she looks “disgusting/disturbing” or like a horror movie character or saying “you’re gonna die” is not gonna fvcking help someone with an ED.
Concern with care would be “I’m worried about you” “I think you should take a break” “you’re overworking yourself, maybe slow down” not dissecting her body like they’ve done the last two years and I’m sure that only fed into it getting worse.
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If Ariana Grande really does have anorexia then why do y’all continuously degrade her and creating unsafe environments for her? If anything you’re just making her mental health worse. Y’all are demonizing her for her mental illness that she’s ACTIVELY experiencing. All this mental health talk but y’all aren’t putting into action.
“She’s not being a good influence” “we shouldn’t normalize this” and the example is of her is at her concert fvcking working or walking down the street. And y’all do have to realize when artists do these arena/stadium tours, they’re under contract and almost always have to finish the tour or they’re not getting paid.
She breaks contract and quits the tour she not only owes Ticketmaster/live nation money, but the ppl who move/put together her equipment, dancers, the band— Music is a business. Despite being a millionaire she still is under capitalism.
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