I Have So Many More Things I Want To Write Im About To Burst With Inspo And Creativity But I Want To

i have so many more things i want to write i’m about to burst with inspo and creativity but i want to wait first until my first fic about reader calling simon his call sign and forgetting his name post-sex hits at least 100 notes (•̤̀ᵕ•̤́) teehee i feel like an insane evil cat blackmailing her owners for treats

no thoughts head COMPLETELY empty i just can’t stop thinking of lieutenant simon “ghost” riley, who’s now also reader’s boyfriend simon “ghost” riley, fucking you soooo hard that you black out and forget his name, completely brainless and only remembering his call sign after how much he’s plowed you senselessly :(

simon riley x fem! reader

nsft ✰ creampie, brief mention of squirting, fem! anatomy, fem! reader, saucy to soft, honestly a lot of soft simon (man is so incredibly whipped for u) heh… this one’s been sitting in my NOTES of all things for soooo long because i might be a slag :0

when you come down from it all, from the taste of smoke and sugar and bitterness, a million other things dancing on your tongue, a blunt ringing in your ears so unmissable you’d think fireworks went off in your apartment, your blurry vision slowly begins to reveal the silhouette of your boyfriend, still hovering over you. just as sweaty and fucked out as you, if not even more.

simon. your darling, darling simon. boyfriend who just absolutely fucked your brains out for you without a shadow of a doubt. you were gone, always the desired result though after a good fucking from your love.

the weakest little whimper leaves your chapped, swollen lips when you vaguely remark his body lurching down, lower towards yours, until another, louder and more embarrassed whine also leaves you when you finally realise what he’s doing. he was going down to inspect your poor little fucked out cunt like the sadist he so clearly was— it’s so well established by now, so long into sleeping with the man, that he always loved the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of your abused little hole. it was a primal sense of fulfillment, that he’d get from it after all. the fact that he’d marked you so well, so clearly from the inside that it was beginning to spill out, so unbelievably thick as streams of it began to mix with your own gushiness and slick gave him a feeling of accomplishment that not even blowing out the skulls of his enemies on the battlefield could compare to.

a small, soundless breath leaves your mouth when you try to talk, but that’s when the realisation comes sharply— you have nothing to say. genuinely nothing. your brain was completely empty, having probably leaked down your thighs by now when he’d fucked every last thought out of your head. you barely even recognise the man now comfortably situated by your still-spread legs; you know who he is, but no name, no recognisable sense of identity comes to your head as you let out another hoarse breath in an attempt to communicate.

but then another little whimper leaves you through your heavy breaths and dizzy little sounds as you try your hardest to come down, and you realise that you do know this man. it’s your lieutenant. lieutenant ghost. how could you ever forget the giant masked man always wearing the skull face who’s authority you’d always obey, way back when you first began working with the task force? of course you could never forget him!

(your poor little mind must have blacked out so hard during those countless orgasms that he’d given you, that you completely forgot about the man you’d been dating for the past two years now: instead only remembering the man you’d been serving under for the past three. the man who you trained yourself to obey and work for ever since you met. and honestly, with how dumb and mushy he’d made you after orgasm number three, nobody could blame you.)

“…ghost.” you softly, deliriously whisper out amidst your heavy pants, completely out of touch with reality and the world that you’re still in right now. your eyes are glued to the ceiling, your entire body unable to move, and that’s when you finally, faintly register the small tear rolling down from the corner of your eye towards your hairline as your body continues trying to recover from the high. fuck. orgasm was so good that you cried?

“nah, ‘ts just me baby… just simon.” he whispers back with a small smile on his face as his eyes move to look at yours for a second, deeply admiring the adorable little fucked out look you have. your eyes were glazed over, he could almost see the hearts in your pupils from how clearly fucking great that final climax was for you. your face was glossy with sweat, hair disheveled, and your bare breasts rose up and down as you panted heavily, gaze glued to the ceiling. he continues to reposition himself over your limp, helpless sprawled out frame underneath him on the bed until he’s properly situated over your lower-half, eyes locked on your pussy. he pushes one of your legs open, admittedly more roughly than he’d intended to, and unintentionally lets out a low moan from deep within his throat when he’s greeted with the full display of the creampie he just gave you.

“ghost…” you weakly whisper again, barely registering his words. barely comprehending the full extent of your relationship with the huge, heavy man in front of you currently admiring, completely stuck on the absolute state of your wrecked little cunt right now, after what was probably the longest and most intense fucking of your life.

he chuckles again, already sensing the adorably confused little expression on your face- furrowed eyebrows, puffed out lips, slightly separate and opened to help you even further in regaining your breaths- even though his eyes never once leave your lower half. thick globs of his own spend have already leaked down from your cunt, trickling past your asshole and pooling onto the bedsheets below the two of you, diluted a little by your own slick and squirt, and forming what is possibly the most lewd and downright delicious display simon has ever seen in his life. he could stay here forever, admiring the scene for the rest of his life.

but he also needs to do his job now, helping you recover from it all. from what he gave you, from what you let him take from you tonight.

“it’s simon, love, no ghost here right now.” he mumbles sweetly as he finally relents and tears his gaze away from your spent womanhood to properly face his sweet girl, his smile only widening when his suspicions on how evidently fucked out your facial expression is becomes confirmed. he chuckles softly again, the sound nothing but a low, exhaled breath as he moves up to hover over you, his face inches away from yours as he cups your cheek with one of those large, warm hands of his in an attempt to get you to finally look at him. (the same hand that he’d already wrung orgasm after orgasm out of you with tonight.)

when your eyes finally tear from the ceiling to look at his face, long lashes batting repeat against your skin as you try to blink the blurriness of your vision away, he coos, fingers sprawling over your face to gently brush away the stray hairs that were messily scattered over your forehead and eyes.

“mmmm-” is the only dumb little sound you have the brain capacity of making, but it gets shushed up automatically when he presses the softest of kisses against your lips, automatically forcing your vision to go back to normal that much more straight away, allowing you to finally, properly focus on the man still hovering in front of you. the man you were slowly beginning to remember that you loved, more than practically anything.

he presses another delicate little kiss to your forehead, the corners of his lips turning upwards that much further as he hears the sound from you amidst your consistent weak breaths and moans, before he moves down over your face again, still cupping your cheek and tilting your head upwards to try and make you properly look him in the eye. god, he loved when you would get like this. maybe, potentially, getting to witness the aftermath of what he would do to you was his favourite part, even more than the sex itself.

“you know my name, yeah? c’mon, love, say it. say my name.” he coos to you, so tenderly you’d think he was trying to reel in a scared farm animal or pet. he tilts his head inquisitively at you, absolutely enamoured by how spaced out and completely engulfed by bliss and satisfaction you still were, as he waits for a response from his beloved girl.

“gh-” you can see his eyebrows raise a little. in that classic simon way whenever you’d do or say something questionable to him, that amused him or perplexed him further. only simon could do that. your simon. and then it dawns on you. it was him. it was simon.

“s… s-simon…” you finally slur out happily, the tiniest of smiles beginning to spread across your cheeks as you tilt your head back at him and blink quickly, finally beginning to recollect yourself and come back down to reality after it all. it only makes him beam back at you in response, that familiar and warm smile comforting you and pulling you so much closer back to earth as you begin to regain feeling in your body and brain.

“yeaaah…” he drawls out proudly, chuckling a little more at you before he leans back down to your forehead, granting you another soft and familiar peck. “that’s it, baby. that’s my girl.” he murmurs against your hairline, those big, warm, admittedly slightly rough palms of his roaming back down across your body- tits, tummy, hips- until they meet the backs of your thighs once again, and he pushes them up against you to put you back into the exposed position you were originally in, after your orgasm hit you. he silently wondered when you’d even slumped your legs down, probably out of so much fatigue from the whole thing, at some point while you tried to come to your senses. it made sense… but he also wasn’t finished admiring the state of you right now- even if you did manage to get your brain back.

he shamelessly hovers back down towards the lower half of your sweaty little body, big hands of his grasping each of your thighs to greedily spread them a little wider and push them back against you, essentially folding you, as he resumes what he was doing in admiring the absolute state of your wrecked little cunt. his cunt, that he had the privilege of using whenever his precious girl let him.

“fuuuckin’ hell, love…” he rasps out, warm breath from his mouth hitting your inner thigh as he praises the sight before him, before he plants another peck there, too, right where his fingers are gripping the plush of your thigh. he just genuinely couldn’t stop staring at it. his cum. the way it was spilling from inside of you, after he’d stuffed it so deep in there you’d think it was your body producing it and not his. the runniness of it all. it was genuinely like a sweet, slow, milky waterfall. goddamn was it lewd… not to mention the giant wet patch you’d personally made for him on the sheets below you, before he even spilled inside. he was definitely taking a mental snapshot, trying as hard as he could to remember the image for next time.

“mmm, fuck…” you slowly drawl out yourself, mimicking his profanity, as you register more and more of the pleasure he gave you in the aftermath of it all, seeping into your bones. you let out a heavy breath, tilting your head down towards where he’s at as your eyes finally, fully focus on him, and you finally take in everything around the two of you. everything that just happened, everything that you just did to each other. it turns his gaze away from your pussy once again towards your face, and he grins, handsome and wolfish, cockily almost.

“that good?” he asks, his voice that perfect mixture of gravel and timbre that has your insides stirring all over again.

“mhm.” you confirm, smiling down at him and using what little strength you were slowly beginning to regain to nod your head, as he slowly crawls back up your body so that his face meets yours all over again. you take it as a cue to finally relax your legs when he lets go of your thighs, tiredly slumping them down against the bed as your breaths become more stable and less heavy, bit by bit.

“yeah. think you soaked the bed a bit.” he teases, full-on beaming at you as he relishes in the way your eyes widen ever so slightly and your lips part in surprise as you process his words. oh shit. oh fuck. (no wonder the bed below you felt wetter than usual.)

“…i didn’t mean to.” the word spill out of your lips before you realise, whiny and breathless as you mumble them up at him, barely even realising that you were frowning partially before he chuckles softly once again and his hand comes back up to cradle your cheek. you find yourself leaning in to the warmth of the touch, so perfectly paired with the roughness of his palm, naturally.

“shhhh…” he immediately coos, before smiling again and shaking his head at how upset and slightly embarrassed you looked. did you not know?

“quiet down, baby…” he continues, practically purring out the words to you. “you know i love it when you cum like that, hm?”

he can’t help but chuckle yet again when your lips shut but your eyes remain widened, probably so shy and bashful by his shameless words. it’s almost enough to wipe away all the thoughts from your mind, once again. almost. you can’t think of that much to say in response, apart from-

“you’re perfect.” you state sweetly, that dumb little look still present on your face as you blink up at him, looking at simon like he built the universe for you. like he hung every star in the sky, just for you. he smiles, at the compliment, and in turn, you smile, too.

“you’re better.” he breathes out, lovingly, words so soft it’s practically a whisper. his eyes are glued on to yours, a testament to how much he’s focused on you and your recovery from being plowed so senselessly right now as he refuses to tear his gaze off of his woman. (and also, he was done relishing in the sight of your pussy by now.)

“mmm… i- i love you, simon.” you breathe out lazily, the happy expression on your face growing tenfold as the words leave your lips. it was safe ground, for the two of you. what was once a terrifying phrase was now comforting, due to the fact that you both had already began using the sacred “l” word for the past maybe two, three months now. the happiness on his face spreads as he processes it, in turn mirroring the expression on yours, as he chuckles softly and beams at you. if you didn’t know any better, if you’d maybe recollected a little more brain power by now, it would have maybe also seemed like he was getting choked up.

“i love you too.” he breathes out with those beautiful caramel brown eyes of his still glued to yours, followed by the sweetest little mumble of your name, before he plants another kiss to your cheek and finally flops over to the side of you, gently pulling you against his chest. you let out a small exhale of both relief as well as fatigue as the exhaustion washes over you, and you allow your eyes to flutter shut as you rest your head on his chest, because you finally realised after it all that you were safe. you were home.

home with your lieutenant. your boyfriend. your simon.

<3

© sugarmeowee 2024. please do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own, or share to any third party sites!!

a/n- FIRST EVER POST WOWOWEEEEWOW!!! also jfc this ended up being SOOO much longer than i intended, i had to do so much tweaking to it in comparison to the blurb i originally had written in my notes. but i hope you all enjoy!! please do like ‘n reblog ‘n share if you did, it would mean a lot to me as a new writer!! until then, see u next time sexy tumblr people :-)

nsfw:

currently thinking about Simon and a priest/religious reader, who he fucks hard over a desk as he whispers little 'im sorry' to their ear.

he doesnt feel bad for corrupting or ruining them, he loves it. he loves how their eyes get teary but still beg for more, he loves how they squirm and plead under him.

there is something a little bit hot abt the 141 sharing the reader but price orders them to go in size order so reader is still tight for the next person. aka a lil bit of dick shaming

simon riley x fem! reader

nsft, mdni! ✰ fem! anatomy, religion (reader is alluded to be religious; wears a cross necklace), corruption, dom! simon, (slightly) mean simon, but the man loves you & he never means what he yaps about at the end of the day so it’s okay!

click here for part two!!

“oh my god— oh- oh my god!”

it’s the only phrase on your mind, the only thing you have the brain capacity to scream out as you continuously register it, the feeling of that thick fucking cock impossibly deep in your tummy, gracelessly forcing itself in and out as you lie there underneath your boyfriend and continue to helplessly take it.

the only thing that registers in your ears- alongside the increasingly loud ringing from everything becoming so overwhelming, too overwhelming- is the repeated and obscenely lewd *plap! plap! plap!* sound of him fucking into you senselessly, mixed with your own whimpers and moans as well as his very rare but occasional groans.

you can’t think. the only thing you can keep doing is cry out to your god, any god up there pitifully looking down at you as simon continues his loving onslaught on you, refusing to relent for even a second.

“mmmm god- god si-m-mon!” you can barely even cry out his name, hiccuping on the two syllables as your eyes roll back into your head again, just when you thought you’d managed to stabilise your vision.

you don’t even realise that one of simon’s large, sweaty palms has landed on that oh-so-sacred crucifix necklace you still wore around your neck, cross sitting faithfully right above your sweaty breasts, as his fingers squeeze unthinkably hard around the damn thing— almost like he’s trying to squeeze all of the holiness, all of the divinity and virtue out of it. out of you.

almost like you didn’t deserve to wear such a righteous thing— not while doing something so sinful, with an absolute devil of a man; one you shouldn’t have even given the time of day to in the first place.

you blindly cry out to your god all over again for the millionth time when simon hits right into that golden little spot of yours inside, the one that has you gushing all over him and seeing stars, and he just snickers at the sound, darkly; amusedly.

“god— oh my g-god- si—“ the mention of the big man upstairs all over again for the nth time is what causes him to lose his fucking mind with you, your attempt to cry out simon’s name immediately cut off by him when he pulls your delicate little cross chain away from your sternum and shoves it straight into your parted lips, forcing you to suck on the dainty thing before he pushes his large palm right over your mouth. your eyes widen and your body trembles as he muffles you, especially when you’re met with the sight of how smug and triumphant he looks in response, all while continuing to fuck you senselessy.

“not god, dove. don’t you fucking dare.” he growls, punctuating his second last word with an especially deep thrust that has your thighs trembling and your eyes rolling so much further back into your skull, so sinfully.

“he’s not gonna save you now, mm?”

a/n- I ALREADY HAVE A PART TWO WRITTEN I HAD TO CUT THIS IN HALF and part two is so much more filth but idk if i should post it or leave this as it is, please lmk if you do want a pt2 because if enough people ask i’ll definitely be unleashing it out into the world!

© sugarmeowe 2024. please do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own, or share to any third party sites!!

something something soap is so delusional that when he finally gets a chance to fuck your throat, he wraps a hand around your neck to feel his cock bully its way through and moans about how you’re shaped jist like me, baby