Simon Riley X F!reader - Tumblr Posts

[takes place right after this]

you were going to combust. you can feel it.

the zip ties on your legs had been cut loose. but you came to realize that it was not for your benefit. your legs had been slung over a pair of broad shoulders, toes curling on his back. Gaz worked his mouth over you, his tongue stroking firmly through your soaked folds.

the other Sergeant, a Scottish man with a mohawk and the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen, fondled your breasts and whispered the dirtiest things to you, drawing you closer to your orgasm than ever before.

the largest man, the one wearing a skull mask, watched on while Price circled your no-good husband like a shark, looking for answers. "so who else knows about the safe house?"

"i didn't tell nobody!" came his irate voice as he struggled against his restraints. you hissed sharply when the heat slinks down to the base of your spine because of having your swollen clit sucked and swirled upon by a feverish mouth.

a long moan drawls out of you, your head tipping back. delirium is starting to take over your senses. it's been building and building and for a while, they've denied your body what it needs. but now— now you think you're careening right towards the edge.

and this time, they have no intention of stopping you from hurling over.

"Soap." Price calls out, not looking away from your husband.

the Sergeant pulled his mouth away from your breast while he still played with the other. you whimpered softly, legs jerking when Gaz's fingers grazed the deepest sensitive nerve he could find inside your throbbing cunt.

"dinnae think she'll last long, Captain." he sounds as wrecked as you feel. "her legs are tremblin'."

he wasn't lying. Gaz had his arms hooked around your thighs, to keep you still. you moaned helplessly as he swirled his tongue against your clit, the fire in your belly licking at your pelvis. you catch the fondness in his eyes when you looked down to watch him, to watch the way his tongue licked through your folds.

he was so good— so fucking good at what he does. you bet they all were in different ways. but Gaz is the first to have you like this, and that is something you'll hold dearly to your heart.

you think he knows it too. when they found out that you've never had your pussy eaten, not even by your sorry excuse of a husband, he was the first to volunteer. and he took the task very seriously.

Blair fumed in his chair, trying as best as he can to kick and scream, but to no avail. the chair only makes a loud sound when it scrapes against the floor, yet he does not get anywhere beyond that. "that is my wife, goddammit!"

"doesn't look like it from my perspective, mate." Ghost muses, tilting his head. you think he's smiling underneath that mask.

"last chance." Price leans to down to look at Blair. "who else knows?"

"i don't know!"

Price sighs and goes to stand behind the restrained man, gripping his hair tightly to make him look at you.

"when she comes in his mouth," he starts, eyes trailing to your dazed expression, to the your glazed eyes as he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "we're each going to take turns with her and we're going to make her forget that she's even married." Blair hissed, eyes widening when the grip in his hair grew tighter. "and we're going to make you watch every second of it."

"hell, that's if she'll even remember your name by the time we're done with her—" Ghost cuts off when you wail, your back arching off the chair while your toes curled deliciously.

you think your head blanked. dark spots clouded your vision as the ecstasy consumed you. Gaz held fast, groaning loudly into your cunt, keeping his thumb firm on your clit while you gushed eagerly in his mouth, prolonging your pleasure. you slumped over the chair, panting deeply, when the high slowly came to a stop.

"tha's a good fuckin' girl." Soap cheered with a wicked smile.

Price chuckled. "Soap, you're first. Gaz, you're next."

"no, don't you fucking touch her—"

you were delirious and dizzy when the zip ties on your arms got cut loose. for a moment, you felt weightless, a hand cradling your head when it lolled back until you were set down on a dark surface.

someone was touching your legs, spreading you open, fingers sinking into your pulsing cunt.

"Steamin' bloody jesus, Gaz." a voice groaned. "she's fucking soaked. what did ye do tae the poor lass?"

"just a little magic trick." a chuckle followed before you were yanked further on the edge of the hard surface.

it's a desk. you were lying on a desk. your husband's desk. your eyes fluttered open to find Soap's heated stare lingering on your breasts, his cock hard and a hand cupping its base as he glides it through your slick folds. your leg instinctively curled against his hip as he pushed inside, a weak mewl escaping you.

"fuck..." his head tilts back as he drawls before he immediately starts fucking you in earnest. you don't get a chance to breathe before the next orgasm starts building up in your veins.

he's rough with you, praising you for taking him so well. places a hand on your stomach before it trails to your breasts as his thrusts hammer against your throbbing walls with a glint in his eye. he plucks your nipples, painfully pulling them, grinning when you mewl and make weak attempts to shove at his hand.

you feel it coming all too fast, your breath seizing in your lungs as the pleasure overrides your system. he fucks you harder, a howl escaping his mouth when he cums inside you. he's so mean about it too, especially when he mocks your husband.

"she's so fucking tight when she cums." he pants, grinning. "bet ye've never felt tha', have ye?"

Gaz is a little softer with you. takes his time dragging his cock in and out of you, watching your expression twist to that of pleasure. but he's just as heinous to your spouse as Soap while moans spill out of your mouth.

"you've never made her sound like that, huh?" he scoffs, chuckling with a shake of his head. he wasn't referring to your moans, but the lewd squelches of your pussy as he jerks his hips. "some husband, you are. it's fucking pathetic."

you don't know why that made you clench tightly around him, but it takes him by surprise. "oh, you like it when we talk shit about him?"

and just like that, the small comment opens Pandora's box.

"such a good little wife you are, putting up with him." he says. "he doesn't deserve a sweet cunt like yours."

Ghost makes Blair listen to every one of those insults. how his cock was only ever good for nothing. wasted on a good pussy like yours.

"aww, gonna cry?" Gaz cooed mockingly when he saw Blair's cheeks flushed red from rage and his eyes were glazed with tears.

"what a muppet." Price muttered. "poor thing needed us to save her."

Gaz makes you sit up so he could still fuck you but pressed his lips your ear, whispering for only you to hear, "he doesn't deserve you, love."

that was what tipped you over.

your breath catches in your lungs as you hold onto him, his hips stuttering when your cunt squeezes him. he floods your pussy with a muffled groan against your shoulder. your heart ached when he lays you back down and slips out of you, pressing one last kiss on your lips and handing you over to the next man.

"oh, no, ye don't." you barely had the strength to shift your gaze to find Soap angling Blair's head towards you. "keep watching them do what ye couldn't do."

Ghost walks over to you, passing by Gaz, who pats his shoulder.

"go easy on her, Ghost." he says. "she's fragile."

"noted." the masked man replies before he reaches you.

you were a little scared when you noticed how broad he is up close. he slowly parts your legs, fingers dipping inside you for a moment, a small whimper leaving your throat.

"fuckin' hell." he drones hoarsely, eyes darkening at the cum dribbling out of you. "you boys did a number on 'er."

to your surprise, he flips you over and spreads your legs. he bends one of your knees on the table

"brace yourself, love." you barely had the time to hold onto the edge of the table. a squeak bursts out of you when you feel the tip slipping inside.

oh, he's big. you breathe through your nose, your forehead pressing against the table. he pushes in slowly, drawing a strained moan from you.

when he pulls back, you're allowed a moment of respite before his hips snap. a sharp cry is heard out of you as he settles inside your cunt, humming deeply as he relishes the feeling of you.

"taking him so well, love." he begins a low pace, letting you adjust to his size. his hand grips your neck and he pulls you close, your back to his chest, making sure your husband saw every detail. "did he fuck you like this, sweetheart?"

your spine prickles with heat as his thrusts continue to increase in speed. you moaned softly, his hand squeezing your neck while the other played with your breast.

you manage to shake your head, eyes rolling back as he flicked one nipple with his fingers. "no? well, that's a damn shame."

your eyes catch a glimpse of Gaz leaning back on the couch as his hand squeezes his cock while he watches. Soap palms his cock as he was standing behind Blair, whispering something in his ear that you couldn't quite catch. but the gleam in his eye when his gaze finds yours made you whimper.

you feel Ghost's lips at your ear. "if you were mine, i'd fuck you in every position ever known to man on ever piece of furniture in sight."

you whine at the idea. of being fucked like that. of being his. of being theirs.

it makes your cunt pulsate, makes you tremble in his grasp. "oh, fuck."

his hand slides down until— your eyes squeeze shut as a shaky moan leaves your parted mouth, "ah!"

the salacious noises are all you could hear besides his grunts in your ear. his fingers swirled around your clit until you squirmed and ached, clawing at the hand at your neck.

"cum on my cock, lovie." he urges softly. "make it yours."

you think you screamed when you plummeted to the abyss. you don't know. hard to hear above the ringing in your ears, but you felt it all. Ghost gently laid you down, your breasts mushed against the expensive wooden desk and turned your head just enough for Blair to take a good long look at your dazed expression.

all the while you felt Ghost's cock plunge in and out of you at a brutal pace, making you drool all over the table until his cum bursts deep inside your pussy. some part of you felt guilty for enjoying this. yet the other part enjoyed the way your husband's face crumpled at the sight of you.

not because you were being fucked by someone other than him. but because you liked knowing he was made aware of the fact that he couldn't fuck anyone to save his own life.

"saved the best for last." you heard Ghost's voice.

you panted softly as you waited. Ghost's cum leaked out of you, dripping on the desk. you didn't think you could take much more.

you thought Price was going to take you from behind like his Lieutenant did, but no. he gently flips you on your back, eyes immediately dipping to your messy cunt.

"pretty little thing, ain't she?" he muses.

"damn right, Captain." you heard Gaz's voice, his breaths a little unsteady from where he is. "feels like a fucking dream too."

"is that right?" a dark chuckle follows the rhetorical inquiry. he's then interrupted by faint struggling, eyes shifting to what you assume is your husband.

his screams are muffled this time. you crane your view just in time to see him getting smacked in the face by Soap.

"keep him quiet." Price commanded. "i want to enjoy this as much as you boys did."

your eyes widen when he lifts your leg and rests it on his shoulder, faint rustling sounds and a belt clinking. your eyes drop low to find the red tip smearing all over the mess the others left on your folds before he taps the head on your clit a few times.

your toes curled and your head softly falls back on the desk. he presses inside just a bit, causing you to wince, the stretch a little overwhelming already. "relax a bit for me, darlin'."

he pushes deeper, your hand presses against his stomach as you whined, "i can't—"

"yes, you can, love." he draws back, giving you a moment to breathe. "just one more, come on." your eyes peered open and you found his gaze. "one more and we'll have a nice bath drawn for you and then we'll put you to bed."

you don't know how you've lasted this long. you don't even know if you're still going to be alive by the time he's done with you.

he held your gaze as he dragged his cock inside, prompting a lewd moan from you. one snap of his hips and you were already clenching down on him.

"fuck, gonna cum f'me already, love?" he hums before throwing your other leg over his shoulder and bends you in half. "we're just getting started."

a broken sound comes out of you when he really starts to fuck you like he means it. the position allowed him to sink in so deep in the way that's going to haunt you for weeks.

he rocked his hips, each thrust had you gasping for air and clawing at his arms, stroking your sensitive walls like he wanted to carve himself into you forever. your weak cries didn't go unheard as you tried to shift away from the way his cock rammed into the deepest, most sensitive nerve.

"take it, darling." his hands grip your hips, his pace becoming more brutal, a white ring gathering at the hilt of him.

"please—" you mewled, but you don't know what for.

"take everything i give you. which is more than your husband ever did." he groaned when you tightened around him, reaching a hand between your bent legs to rub your clit.

heat flared all too rapidly and you felt like you imploded. your back arched as he pressed a firm hand on your stomach, groaning out loud as your pussy spasmed around his hard shaft. your mouth hung open but not a sound came out of you as his rapid thrusts dragged out your high.

you heard a hoarse shout and the sensation of his hot cum shooting into your pussy before you blacked out.

you woke up later on the softest bed in an unfamiliar room, wrapped in a fluffy pink gown. you smelled like shower gel and your skin didn't feel as sweaty and icky as you expected it to be. exhaustion had long settled into your bones, so you don't feel like getting out of bed.

someone opens the door and enters holding a tray filled with food. it's Gaz. he smiles as he puts down the tray on the dresser. "you must be hungry."

you think you might get used to this for a little while.

banners by @cafekitsune offer a note in the picklejar

how you met : college bf!simon .

tooth-rotting fluff

he was in a few of your classes, you’d recognize a man that looks like that anywhere. he was kinda mysterious, always lurking in the back row with his jet black hoodies and dark eyes.

he made eye contact with you every time you walked into the lecture hall. it was intimidating at first, you’d always look away after a second but you could still feel his eyes on you as you took your seat.

in true girl fashion, you went into fbi mode trying to find his socials— only a private instagram with no profile picture and basically nothing in the bio. but you did have his name, simon riley.

the first time he showed up to class a little late, he rushed to the nearest spot open which happened to be in the row right behind yours. he had a hard time fitting his legs into the seat and accidentally kneed the back of your seat, he just cursed and apologized.

you turned your head a little to say it was ok but it was really to get a closer look at him. you were a little startled by how much bigger he was now that he was up close. you caught a glimpse of his dirty blonde hair and you wanted to turn all the way around and see everything.

the second time he was late, he rushed in right as the professor was starting up and huffed as he dropped in his seat. you heard him ruffling around in his backpack and then a quiet curse before he sighed and the chair creaked as he leaned forward

he tapped your shoulder “hey, sorry, do you have an extra pen i can borrow?”

“uh, yeah,” you gave him the one in your hand, finally turning fully to look right at him.

your fingers definitely brushed against each other and the whole world started moving in slow motion. you blinked up at him and there was a hint of curiosity in his brown eyes as he looked down at you. you took in his features, the pink lips that were parted just a little and the slight crook in his nose that made your knees feel weak. but the romantic moment was cut off by the professor starting the lecture

when he returned the pen, he asked you if you wanted to go to the coffee shop and study for the upcoming exam. of course you said yes! finally he made the first move, you’d only been sending him subliminal messages for 2 months !! real

you started to spend more than just class time together, soon you were eating most meals together and walking to class together and studying together. you found yourself wanting to be around him all the time and it seemed like he wanted the same thing.

the first time he kissed you was in his dorm after finishing up a little study session. you were chatting about something while he cleared up some books and you sat on his bed. you made some stupid joke about how big he was when you saw his hand cover the entire front cover of one of the books.

he turned around with a crooked smile that made you gulp. then walked over with his eyes glued to yours until he was standing over you.

“gimme your hand,” he didn’t break eye contact but gestured with his head.

you held you hand up and he pressed his warm palm against yours. you were mesmerized, sure there’d been some light flirting between you two especially since you were spending so much time together, but this was new air.

“maybe you’re just small,” he kept his eyes on yours as he cocked his head. his fingers intertwined with yours and he dipped down to capture your lips.

you let out a little gasp but immediately melted into the kiss. you felt his free hand come around to the small of your back as he leaned over you.

after making out in his bed for a while and letting his hands roam wherever they wanted, he asked you on a proper date.

***

whatcha think ?

pls comment and reblog! and send requests/asks about this au or another so i know what you want more of<3

⋆ ★ 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐅. includes afab!reader, doggy, mating press, a bit rough n unprotected sex, light degradation, light edging, squirting, size kink.

930 words.

༊*·˚ The mission went south near the end. It started out strong, with the intel you all had, you were able to locate the man you were looking for without any complications. However, just as you were about to escape, you got cornered. You fought it out as best you could, but there was no escaping with him. You had to leave him and slip into the woods behind you. Sure, you were lucky you were all alive, but there was still that frustration on the surface of everyone’s mood.

Everyone had their own method to taking out their frustration. Some took to the gym, pushing themselves to their limit with weights and cardio. Others pushed themselves to their limit in other ways which in included alcohol at the bar.

Simon, however, looked to your cunt as a relief.

The gym just wasn’t working anymore after being in there all day. He’d used every machine twenty times over, lifted the heaviest he could, beaten every punching bag in there, yet nothing was satiating his frustration.

Until you walked up to him, offering him a sandwich you had made for him, muttering a small “Thought you might be hungry, that’s all,” and turning around to leave with a flustered look on your face. He knew right then that he was in trouble. He knew that once he tossed the sandwich to the ground and moved to throw you over his shoulder and made his way back to his barracks that he was going to have to deal with shit from Price later. But he didn’t care. How could he, with the way your cunt squeezed him like vice as he pounded into you from behind?

It was forceful and rough, the way he bullied his cock into your tight cunt. He watched the way the flesh of your ass jiggled every time he pushed his pelvis against it. The way your back arched impossibly further, wanting everything and more that he was giving you. It made the warm feeling in his lower stomach start to burn. Groans and moans left his throat, unfiltered words spilling out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“Such a good little thing,” he grunted. “Lettin’ me use you like this. Like you’re jus’ some toy, hm? I know ya fuckin’ love it. Y’such a cockwhore. S’all you are.”

The pleasure you were feeling was indescribable. Every push of his hips had his cock somehow going deeper than the last. You could feel his veins, they were probably imprinted on your walls by now. The squelching sounds were enough to give away how fucking needy you were if nothing else.

He brought one hand up to the space between your shoulders, pushing down on it roughly and thus shoving the side of your face against the pillow. His other hand stayed on your hip and massaged the flesh. The way his hand in between your shoulders took up most of the space there had his head spinning. God, he loved how he was so much bigger than you. Towering over you at any given chance always made his chest burn with lust, but this, finally having it happen and realizing just how much bigger he truly was than you, spurred him on to no end.

His hips were moving erratically. They snapped against you harshly in quick motions. You felt like you were being split open with his girth and you were honestly surprised he even fit inside you, considering how you reacted when he initially pulled his pants down. All he said was “I’ll make it fit,” in response to your concerns about him being too big to fit inside you. And damn was he right.

He moaned deep from his chest at the feeling of you tightening around him. “Y’close, baby? Can feel you squeezin’ me tight. I can barely even move, you’ve got me sucked in so much,” he mocked, lifting his balaclava to rest over his nose so he could place sloppy kisses along your neck. He moved to have his mouth beside your ear, and you could feel his warm breath tickle your skin. And in between his low whimpers and groans, he said: “Too bad you ain’t cummin’ till I say you can.”

In one swift motion, he flipped you over onto your back and pushed your knees flush against your chest, moving onto his heels. All the air was pushed from your lungs as he shoved himself back into your pussy in one go, no regard in going slow for you. He cared more about his own pleasure than yours right now, if he was being honest.

With the new position, you could feel him up to your throat. He was so damn deep, fucking into you expertly and having you see stars. All you could do was grab onto the sweat-drenched blankets below you and scream, begging him to let you cum, over and over. He didn’t budge.

“You’re such a—fuck—such a needy fuckin’ whore f’me, aren’t ya? Impatient. Can’t even wait a few more minutes like a good girl. Go ‘head, then. Cum if you wanna cum so badly.”

Your body didn’t miss a beat after he gave you the go-ahead. Within seconds, you were spasming on his cock, legs shaking in his hold, vision going blurry. You could hear him chuckle above you, the faint sound bringing you back to earth.

“This fuckin’ pussy… You just made a right mess everywhere, sweetheart,” Simon mused. “But you still want more, don’t you? Yeah. Y’can’t get enough of my cock, huh, baby?”

☆ — © saintlulls, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, copy, or claim.

ghost takes turns fucking soap and you. he'll jerk needy!soap off while sliding into your tight holes, making out with johnny messily while you squirm and wriggle, trying to gain their attention. :(

experience of period leakage is uncomfortable, waking up through the grogginess that lingers on your eyes, making them glassy, bloated stomach wrenching with cramps that knot in the lower area of your abdomen, making you bent with muffled whine, trying to relieve the pain as your spine flexes with your movement, when you feel something sodden beneath.

oozed blood, staining the twitching skin of your thighs as you shake from the weakness, sheets beneath you now a darkened burgundy color, seeped out from where your panties now have the same rudy stain as the duvet, making your eyes swim with annoying sting, before it rips out of you with bubbled sob.

it's wakes simon up, stirring beneath the blanket that pooled at his hips as he propped himself up, one hand rubbing at his darkened, lidded with sleep eyes, ears picking at the small sound of distress immediately, and he sits up through cracking bones to see your shaking, twisted form.

noticing the reason of your distress as well, brushing his hand along the dried spot of blood beneath, no doubt soaked in the mattress by now, and the thought makes your fingers curl at the sheets in sadness that morphs itself in the anger, to the way you feel, to what you endure, buzzing in your ears along ragged sobs that make simon's heart knot in sympathy.

you didn't even noticed that he woke up, jolting lightly at the sudden touch that envelops the side of your body with comfortingly seeping warmth, until you're being scooped between two burly, spread legs and slotted gently against sturdy, rumbling chest, the cooing hoarseness of his voice suddenly overcomes the distressing buzz in your ears, calming your senses.

you melt against him, letting simon cradle you against his chest with gentle touches, and despite that you feel uncomfortably dirty because of the smudged blood on your panties, you cuddle closer with little sniffs, curling yourself in a ball, as his lips brush against your temple, nose catching at the salty wetness of your tears.

simon will take care of everything, fill the bathtub with warm water so you'll be able to wash yourself up so slipping into the clean underwear and one of his shirts would feel even more comfortable, as he'd change the sheets and dump them to washing machine along with your panties, hell, he'd even buy a new clean mattress, anything, just to not see you upset again.

you come back to the room not on your legs, but nuzzled against simon's solid chest as he carries you to the clean bed, adorned with a dark shade of sheets in case something will happen again, as he settles you beneath the softness of the blanket and lays behind you, cloaking your form with his, moving his palms to rest them on your tummy, rubbing twining, lulling circles on your relaxed skin.

main masterlist. quidelines.

previous part

the idea is, you're higher ranked than ghost, and he kinda has a crush on you, which, obviously, he doesn't show. he brings you tea, runs with you, just to be around you more.

Simon is on his way to you with his tea, made specifically for you, when he hears you, speaking with someone on the phone. His senses tells him it's better to pop up other time, but he's too nosy for that. So, he stops in his tracks, listening who could you be so in conversation with.

"It's- yeah, honey. It's just a difficult mission, 'm gonna... stay a bit longer in the job. I'm so sorry."

Honey? He can't figure out if it's you speaking to your kid, or, God forbid, husband. Maybe you are bubbly and oversharing, but in the same time, he knows nothing about you, besides the fact that you prefer to work by yourself, and then lead your team. It's something that lingers on his mind; you never told team you're married, but you would if you are, yeah?

Why keep these things to himself?

It's a dumb question. Simon knows better than anyone it's better to keep everything hidden, especially if it's about something so fragile like a family. Yet, he can't keep himself from wondering, if your hand is taken by someone.

If so, he'd be lucky to have you, he thinks. You're such a lovely person, so... warm, a feeling that Simon hasn't experienced in a long, long time.

He knocks a minute after you end the conversation - minute and three seconds to be exact, he doesn't want you to suspect anything. To know he was listening, it's not professional, he's aware. He's aware of many unprofessional things, not the first time he did something like this. Thoughts in his mind are rushing; how to approach you, how to make you say something about this phone call, but he only nods in a silent greeting, leaving mug with tea on your desk.

You speak first. "Needed that, especially today. Thank you, Simon."

Simon. You're one of the people that refuses to call him Ghost. He feels giddy every time he hears that.

"'s nothing." he shrugs, looking at you with question in his eyes; why today? You're the one who's willing to tell him things, so it's not bad to pull the strings a bit, no? "Everything's alright, colonel?"

It takes you a few seconds to answer, when you warm your hands around big mug. "Mad family. Nothing new."

"Husband?" he asks, before he thinks; he feels a cool shiver down his spine. It slips, he didn't intend to ask that, to say that. In one second, it's just a thought, and in another, it's something he says out loud.

His control is crushing.

Surprisingly, you're not mad. You're more... sad, but you're smiling anyway. "Married life is complicated." you nod, and it's enough for him to just nod as well, and leave the room.

You're married.

It complicates everything.

LMAOOO PLOTTWIST HEY

Woops just found my new love language... jar opening.

Ghost rushes to your aid, only this time, it's to help with a pickle jar.

———————————————————————

“C’mere.” He orders, motioning with his hand.

You roll your eyes at him, although a slight grin forms on your lips.

“No!” you retort as you turn your back to him.

He sighs, leans back into the kitchen chair, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Although he still wears his skull mask, you can imagine a smug expression on his face as he observes your failed attempts at opening that pickle jar.

You wipe your hand on your trousers, then grasp the lid, using your other hand to stabilise the jar. You take a deep breath and hold it in as you squeeze and twist with all your might. But the darn thing doesn’t budge—an oddity since you opened that jar fairly easily yesterday.

“You look like you’re about to fart.”

“Shut up, Ghost.” You snap through gritted teeth.

“What you do clearly doesn’t work,” he states firmly. “Just give me the fucking jar.”

You exhale, relax your grip and shoot him a threatening look.

“No,” you snap again, pointing at him with the jar. “I got this.”

He lifts the fingers that are resting on his bicep and shakes his head.

“It’s too tight, love.”

“It’s not tight,” You reply and knock on the jar’s lid twice. “It’s stuck.”

“Knocking on the bloody lid?” He chuckles softly. “What’s next? Asking the pickles to open up from the inside?”

“Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not,” he replies softly. “It just needs...”

“-a knife.” You interject.

He follows you with his eyes as you march over to the utensil drawer. You slide it open and pull a knife out.

“That’s a bread knife.” He states.

“So what?” You say, waving the knife, “Bread knives are still knives.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he replies. “There are other ways to open that jar.”

“I’ve tried other ways.”

“You haven’t tried mine.” He murmurs, seemingly unmoved, brushing lint from his thigh.

You roll your eyes again and place the jar on the kitchen counter. Ghost leans further back in his chair to get a better visual of what you’re about to do.

“You’re going to get hurt.” He warns you.

You brush his statement off and focus on the jar. You stabilise it with one hand and put the bread knife between the glass and the lid with the other. You pull on the knife, trying to pry open a small opening. However, the knife loses grip and comes flying dangerously close to your ear.

Ghost pushes the chair with the back of his legs and mutters a sharp “fuckin’ hell” as he rushes towards you.

“You alright?” He asks and grasps your wrist.

“I’m fine,” You reply, defeated.

His hand lets go of your wrist and travels up to your neck. He inspects your ear, making sure you’re not hurt, then grasps your shoulder.

“Why won’t you let me try?” He asks softly.

You sigh, grasp the jar, and slam it on the counter.

“Because you’ll make fun of me just like the others,” you murmur.

“They make fun of you,” He says, pointing at the jar, “for this?”

“For my strength!” You elaborate. “Why do you think this jar is so tight? They’re doing it on purpose, so I ask for their help.”

He chuckles and tightens the grip on your shoulder.

“Nobody is doing that to the lids.” He comforts you. “The refrigerator cools the container and makes the lid shrink.”

You shoot him a threatening side-eye.

“Don’t gaslight me, Lieutenant.”

He throws his head back and sighs.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, “even if they’re purposely tightening the lids, there’s always a better way to unscrew it than hurting yourself.”

“Let me guess,” you sneer, “the solution is to ask you to do it for me instead?”

“No,” he replies, turning the faucet to the hot water. “If you don’t have the muscle—”

“Hey!”

“If you don’t have the grip,” he corrects himself, “you should use your brain instead. As a matter of fact, you should always use your brain first.”

He removes his glove and puts his hand under the faucet. He takes the jar and places the lid under the tap, allowing the water to run on it for a few seconds. Finally, he turns the faucet off, wipes the cap with a towel, and hands it to you.

“Here,” he says, “try now.”

You take the jar and place your hand on the warm lid. You twist it, and it pops right open. You look at the loosened cap and throw it on the counter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“No need to thank me,” he replies softly. “You did it.”

You study his eyes behind his mask; they’re smiling. You extend that pickle jar to him.

“Want a pickle?” You ask and shrug one of your shoulders.

He shakes his head. “You can have ’em,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I need to start the induction for the recruits.”

You nod as you watch him gather his belongings. He is one of the most ruthless operators on base, and you’ve experienced the violence he is capable of causing on the battlefield. Yet, here he is, offering gentle guidance, advising you to ‘use your brain’ instead of brute force. Not only that, but once he managed to work his way into the jar—clearly twisting the cap with that towel and loosening it—he praised your ‘efforts’, claiming that ‘you did it.’

You take a pickle from the container and put it in your mouth.

How many times has he assisted you behind the scenes, making things easier for you and rushing to your aid, only to later praise your work and efforts, even though he was the orchestrator behind it all? Is that the reason the other soldiers make fun of you?

You take another pickle from the jar and drive it to your mouth, only to stop midway.

The question you’re trying to answer is not how often he acted chivalrous towards you, but...

“Why?” You shout as he walks towards the door, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He stops and turns to you, gripping the door frame. His eyes still smile, but another emotion is lingering behind them this time. He lifts his hand and points to the side of his head.

“Use your brain,” he replies before returning to the door and leaving the kitchen.

———————————————————————

ITS 22:18 AND I SHOUOD BE SLEEPING YET INSYEAD I READ THIS AND OH. MY. GOD I DONT TJINK I CAN SLEEP NOW 😫😫😫💦💦

GIRLIE THIS WAS SO GOOD YOU HAD ME HOOKED FROM. BEGINNING TO END??????? 😭🙏🙏💞💞💞💕💕💞💓💓

I **LOVED** YOUR WRITNG AND YOUR WRITING WAS ***SO*** GOOD!!!!!! For some reason, it reminds me of all the Russian novels I have been reading lately ☺️💓,, without the sex OBVIOUSLY DJSJAJA 😖✋

-`♡´- Lieutenant's patience.

Pairing: Simon "ghost" Riley/fem!reader

Word count: 3.421k

Warning: Drabble, Praise Kink, Profanity, Oral Sex, Pussy Licking, Jealous Simon, Jealous Sex, Fingering

A/N: I'm ashamed to publish this but…I decided to then lol, sorry in advance for the mistakes in the text, I finished this at 2 am..And I’m still just a beginner writer, so I hope for your help, support and normal criticism If you want something specific, I will be happy to try to make it happen!! 🙌💋

I TRANSLATED MY ALREADY READY FANFIC INTO ENGLISH, SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE IMPORTANCES!!

English is not my native language!

Who knew that the lieutenant’s patience was not as iron-clad as it seemed? Who knew that sometimes it’s better to really remain silent and not continue to test someone else’s endurance? Who knew that flirting with recruits at the base is not the best idea, who is your boyfriend, a fucking lieutenant, and stands literally on the other side of the room, perfectly hearing your conversations with another man who has not yet had time to get used to the new territory. On foreign territory. Nobody knew, damn it! You also didn’t think that she would be able to attract the lieutenant’s attention to her person.

The transfer from another unit was so unexpected that you yourself did not expect to move from your old base to a new one in just a week. One good thing is that thanks to your services at the front, the transfer took place quite quickly and without any consequences. Although the reason for the transfer was very funny: the management had changed, and the new captain didn’t really want to know that a woman would fall under his command. Funny, right? To the point of madness, you would say, if not for the fact that you managed to become very attached to those walls and to those people whom you had to leave. But there was no turning back: in such a job you can’t hold on to the past, otherwise it will eat you up, and you won’t even have time to realize that you’re already at the very bottom among your demons and fears.

But, fortunately, you quickly managed to get used to your new place of work. Perhaps the new base was much better than the previous one, and the staff was very nice. Especially when they don’t look at you like you’re a nuclear war. Yes, for men, a girl on a military base is a fucking shock and something new, but at the same time, girls in the army are like treasures, just try and touch them.. But they treated you not only as a military man whose word could be taken into account, but also as a person, and not as a piece of meat that can only be fucked somewhere in a dirty motel on the edge of town. And that made you happy. It truly made you happy.

And, as a rule, you quickly get used to good things. And so it happened: most of the soldiers treated you with respect, despite the opposite sex. Although at first you were confused by your lieutenant, under whose command you fell. The quiet man in the skull mask alone inspired fear. The girl didn’t even notice him right away. Their first acquaintance happened only during training, then she was able to see who he was. It would have been a sin not to hear the stories of other soldiers about their lieutenant, so getting to know him was no longer only a desire, but also a goal. But who said that this man is a damn closet that is two meters long and wide. Perhaps, when you first saw him, you thought that with your height you would be at most up to his chest. And you also didn’t think that literally two months later you would be covering your mouth with a gloved hand when the tongue of your cruel lieutenant would caress your pussy in the back room of his office, behind the door of which there were other people. His hands wrapped around your hips, pressing harder into your crotch, making you roll your eyes, dark with excitement, in pleasure. You didn’t think that in two months you would be in his room, sitting on your knees in front of him with your hands tied behind your back.

Looking at your lieutenant from the bottom up with hungry eyes, slowly rubbing your cheek against the erect penis in his pants, causing quiet sighs from the man above. You couldn’t even imagine that just three months after the transfer you were able to conquer this cold man who looks at everyone else as if he wants to kill and is ready to bury their bones in his backyard without a drop of regret. A man whose elbows have long been covered in blood treats you as if you were the last plant in this whole world. And, perhaps, you really like it. It's hard to imagine who wouldn't like this, right?

But now you continue to calmly communicate with the recruit. A slight smile from you, and the guy’s cheeks are already all red. And it’s very good that you don’t see what’s happening behind your back: a man in a skull mask aggressively stirs his tea with a spoon, never ceasing to stare at his girlfriend. And he can't let anyone else even look at the object of his adoration, let alone start a normal conversation. Of course, jealousy is not always a good thing in a relationship, but in his defense, Ghost can say that he will not allow himself to interfere until he understands that you are in danger. Then nothing will be able to stop him.

One of your team members, Soap, is sitting next to Simon right now, just grinning, realizing that this guy will most likely suffer the wrath of his lieutenant tomorrow during morning training. She pats the man lightly on the shoulder and leaves the break room. He doesn’t even react to someone else’s touch, continuing to look at you, who is still talking to another guy.

In an instant, Simon stands up so loudly that you even flinch a little, looking at the object of the noise. The man slowly makes his way to the sink to wash his mug. And that guy, whose name you don’t even know, continues to say something about his dog and about his brother, whom he talked about earlier.

All the soldiers on the base knew who your boyfriend was and who they would have to deal with if anyone allowed themselves to offend you. And everyone also knew that the lieutenant’s anger was a truly terrible thing. But the recruits, in principle, would not have time to learn all the so-called "rules" of this place. And some learn these rules from their own mistakes.

—Sergeant, to my office. - Simon stops in the aisle and speaks loudly enough so that not only you can hear his words, but also the guy who froze after the words of his lieutenant. There was already a lump in your throat from the realization of what this man could do to you in his office. And thoughts immediately appeared in my head that tomorrow this poor guy would be smashed during morning training so that he wouldn’t even be able to get out of his bed for several days.

—Now.

—I'll be there in a few minutes, Lieutenant. - after your words, the man only nodded, after which he left the rest room, and you allowed yourself to relax and close your eyes.

—Something happened? Why did he call you into his office so unexpectedly? - the recruit showed curiosity, looking into your no less surprised face and… Oh, if he knew what suffering he doomed himself to at the moment when he decided to talk to you.

—Everything is fine, dont worry. Most likely, he wanted to provide details about the new task. - you are already getting up from the table, heading towards the exit from the rest room, when the recruit also gets up and blocks your path to leaving the room. He was much shorter than Ghost, so you didn’t have to lift your head to look him in the eyes.

—Exactly? Maybe I'd rather go with you? - the guy still did not calm down, continuing to intrude with his questions, which were no longer appropriate at all.

— Better worry about yourself, believe me. - you grin and walk around the guy, almost managing to leave the rest room when that boy grabs your hand, looking questioningly into your eyes.

—You’ll find out everything tomorrow, but now I have to go, excuse me.

You free your hand and leave the break room, hoping that this guy won’t think of following you into the lieutenant’s office. And if he decides to do this, then rest in peace, because he will immediately face an angry man who will force him to scrub the toilets with a toothbrush until the toilets begin to shine so much that you can see your reflection in them.

The anger of a jealous person is truly terrible, and it is especially terrible when this jealous person is your lieutenant. And only God knows what he is capable of.

Your legs feel like cotton wool as you stand outside Simon’s office. You, poor thing, can’t even imagine what awaits you there. Simon's anger? Disappointment? Ignore? Together? In this situation, it’s easier not to speculate, but to go inside and find out everything the hard way. From the very beginning of this peculiar relationship, you guessed that Ghost would be a rather jealous person by nature. But after the first instance of his jealousy, you didn’t think that you would be so wrong. Poor co-worker who dared to tell you that your place is in the kitchen, but not on a military base…that same evening that guy looked like a fucking corpse after sparring with Ghost. Not to say that you were scared, but the shock was really quite strong. Shock at what Simon is willing to do for his beloved.

There is a soft knock on the door, to which a soft “come in” is heard behind the door. Entering the room and closing the door behind you, you saw Simon standing in front of the window with his back to it, holding a cigarette in his hands. There was smoke from cigarettes in the office, which had already become so deeply ingrained under your skin that it no longer caused as much discomfort as before, when you were still a civilian. The man doesn’t even turn around when someone comes into his office. He didn't need to guess who it was. He knew. He felt your eyes burning a hole into his back. He always felt when you looked at him or were simply nearby. It was as if he had found his soul mate, the other part of himself. And he really liked to feel your penetrating gaze, hands and feel the warmth of his beloved girl next to him.

With slow steps, you approach Simon’s back, hugging him from behind and fastening your hands on his torso, resting your forehead against the strong muscles, and in response you feel a gloved hand covering your hands. The only sounds in the room are Simon's heavy breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The tension was felt a kilometer away, but there was no fear. You have never felt fear around your man. Only comfort and safety, which you were incredibly happy about.

—Are you mad at me? - your quiet voice breaks the silence between you in the room. The heart makes another somersault, painfully hitting the ribs in the chest, while the stomach twists with excitement. Nobody knows what will come to the lieutenant's mind. Even God probably couldn't read his mind

—At you? Oh no, my dear, I'm not mad at you. - Simon turns around in your arms, forcing you to raise your head to look into his eyes, which are not hidden by the mask. He puts one hand on your chin, forcing you to look even higher, and the other hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. —I’m angry that this little brat decided to test not only fate, but also my patience, - smiling sweetly at you and continuing to talk about something that you didn’t even ask.

Simon leans over to whisper something in your ear, and your legs are already giving way because the gears are spinning and the puzzle is coming together in your head, anticipating what will happen in this office for the next hour. —And I also know that this fucker probably didn’t listen to you and followed you. —And I guarantee: right now he is standing at the door, eavesdropping on our conversation. - you swallow nervously, and in response you hear only a deep laugh in your ear and Ghost’s hand, which moves to your thigh, gently stroking it.

—So why don’t we brighten up his evening? What do you think, my dear?

He moves away from the girl, taking with him the necessary warmth. He looks down from top to bottom, waiting for an answer to his proposal. Even through his mask you could feel that Simon was smiling now. He looks with superiority from the realization that you are his and only his in front of him in the next hour, and not a single person in this world will allow you to interfere with you now.

He bends down again, first raising the mask to the level of his nose, freeing part of his face from the embrace of the rough fabric. He cups your face with his hands and kisses you with intensity, he pushes the leather chair away from the table with his foot and presses it into it so hard that it hurts. He removes his palms from your face and grabs you by your buttocks, sits you on the table, throws all the papers off it somewhere on the floor.

And he doesn’t care what happens to these reports later: Simon has other things that are important and interesting. His hands are everywhere, every imprint leaves a burn on your body. But these burns are ridiculously good. Few. it's not enough for you. More, more, more. you need more of his touch, you need more of his body. He wants to merge into one, even through his clothes he feels like he’s floating next to him. He drowns himself in it headlong.

He breaks away from your lips and looks with hunger. It's not enough for him either. And he kisses again, this time stronger. He unfastens the belt on your army trousers and pulls them down, after which he throws the fabric somewhere to the side. And he puts his hand into your underwear, immediately pressing against your pubis. He didn’t even take off his gloves, which is why the touches feel unusual and strange. He takes a few steps back from you, looking at you: half naked, with swollen lips, but his. And the most important thing is that it is his. Nothing more is needed.

He comes closer and kneels in front of you to look up to you. Oh gods, how she loves seeing her man in this position. With swollen lips, a twinkle in his eyes and trembling hands. You feel loved next to him. Feels like he needs her. That it’s not just that it’s next to him, but that it’s really necessary, like oxygen.

—Come on, my girl, help me. - He kisses the inner thigh and pats the sides with his hand. There is an uncertain nod from the girl, after which she rises a little on the table, helping the man pull off her underwear and throw it somewhere to the side. He’s not even going to take off his mask, which makes his insides clench even more. But you even like to see him like this.

Yes, you naturally saw him without fabric on his face, but right now she gives some special charm to the man who kneels in front of her and looks with such admiration that his eyes roll back.

—Atta girl.

He bites the inside of his thigh, and then kisses that place, as if apologizing for his bite. But he really wants, even wants, that after your night together, your whole body will be covered with his marks: bites, hickeys, bruises - it doesn’t matter at all, the main thing is that he was the one who left them last night. He wants everyone else at the base to see them, to know that this girl already belongs to someone else and not even dare to approach her, much less flirt with her. Yes, Simon was definitely a fucking owner, but on the one hand you even liked it.

You liked that there was a man in the world who wanted to show everyone else that this girl was already taken. Yes, you love it like crazy.

He Literally digs his mouth into your crotch, causing you to moan softly. You throw your head back as Ghost swirls his tongue around your clit, making you arch your back. No matter how much Simon plays the role of that man in a relationship, he is really happy to do something stupid to make you happy. And he really loves making you cum from his tongue. To end in such a way that your consciousness will balance between sleep and reality. End up in such a way that your screams will be heard not only at your own base, but also on another continent in principle.

He penetrates the vagina with his tongue, causing the girl to fall with her back on the surface of the table, finally throwing off the remnants of things from it. With your vaginal walls you feel how the tip of her tongue presses on some sensitive point, causing a too loud moan to escape from your chest. you immediately press your hand to your mouth, trying to suppress your own pleasure. Simon pulls away from her and stands up, looking into her eyes.

—If you try to drown yourself out again, I’ll fuck you for so long and so hard that you won’t even be able to get out of bed for several weeks. Understood me? - leans towards you so that his lips almost touch yours. He is waiting for at least some sign from the girl under him, while stroking with his fingers your clit in gloves, causing pleasant sensations throughout your body.

And you nod, removing your hand from your mouth, after which his lips are pressed into yours again, gently crushing them. One hand strokes your waist through your army T-shirt, and with the other hand he reaches inside. Two fingers at once pleasantly stretch the walls, causing another moan, which comes out rather quiet, because the mouth is completely occupied with something else.

Simon pulls away from your lips, and between them there remains a thin string of saliva that still connects the two people. He continues to move his fingers inside, watching your unhappy face. Analyzes you, chooses how it will be better for you, learns from your mistakes so that you get maximum pleasure not only from his penis, but also from tongues and fingers.

—Good girl. Show others how much you like my fingers. Let others hear how good you feel with me. Let this little fucker understand that he can't even stand next to you. - he smiles when his movements inside the girl’s eyes roll back in pleasure. It doesn’t matter to him whether he gets pleasure himself, the main thing is that you achieve the long-awaited orgasm from his actions.

—Don’t hold back, I want to hear you. - and he kneels again, beginning to draw peculiar patterns around the clitoris. He continues to move inside, licks, pulls into himself, sucks: he does everything so that you get a release. He feels a woman’s hand pull off his mask and throw it somewhere, after which she digs her fingers into his blond hair and pulls him closer. She pulls so hard that it seems like she will rip a clump of hair from his head. But he's ready to get over it.

And he succeeds.

You let out a loud moan, and your body trembles. And Simon doesn’t stop even after your wet thighs squeeze his head. He feels your vagina pulsating, but he continues to move his fingers. He doesn’t stop for a second, but continues at an accelerated pace. He hears your heavy breathing and humbly waits for you to release him from his peculiar captivity.

—I hope you understand that it’s better not to anger me, honey? -Ghost gets up from his knees and places his arms around her body, leaning against the table.

—If you’re going to be that angry, I’m ready to act like a total bitch every day.

tags- @simp4konig I COULD NOT RESIST SORRY DON'T SCORE😭😭✋

FORNFUCKS SAKE ITS NEARLY 11PM BUT IM HERW READING THESE INSTEAD 🤡🤡

Fuck YOU🖕🖕 ANA FOR BEING AN AMAZING WRITER I HATE YOU SO MUCH❗❗❗❗❗(just kidding, THANK YOU for blessing my EYES 🤩🤩💞🌠✨✨💕)

ANYWAYS SPOILER ALERT BUT LIKE

AND AND AND AND THE ENDING????????

OH MT GOD IM IN LOVE HELP HELP HELP 😣😣😣💓💓 IN LOVE WITH SIMON **AND** YOUR WRITING :(((

-`♡´- More than just words

Pairing: Simon "ghost" Riley/fem!reader

Word count: 992

Warning: indecisive Simon, slight denial of feelings, and non-detailed description of sex

A/N: I’m still just a beginning writer, so I hope for your help, support and healthy criticism..If you want something specific, I will be happy to try to make it happen.I was hoping to write a little more, but… I'm too lazy an ass

I TRANSLATED MY ALREADY READY FANFIC INTO ENGLISH, SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE IMPORTANCES!!

English is not my native language!!

The feeling of the bed sagging under the weight next to you breaks you out of the trance you were in, turning your head away from such an interesting ceiling and meeting Simon's tired eyes. As always, his sleepwear is nothing more than underwear. Much to his disappointment, you had the decency to pull his oversized t-shirt over your practically naked body. His half-dried hair touches your skin as he slides into your tender embrace.

—How do you feel? - You mumble, running your hand gently down his back as his head finds support on your chest and you don’t mind at all that Ghost doesn’t respond, already feeling like today may have been a particularly hard day for him. You remove the large blanket from his body before he starts grumbling about how hot it is, considering that the dear lieutenant remembered to turn the fan on high. Simon presses himself even closer to your warm body. "She reads me like an open book," he thinks.

Your humble persona is patient with him. You take care of all his needs when he can't, even the little things. You put ketchup on his fries just the way he likes them. He always says he needs a little more even though it's the perfect amount. And you smile, playfully making fun of him and submitting to his desires. He might say that kissing "isn’t enough" even though you showered his face with caresses for 15 minutes. And you would obey without hesitation.

Sometimes he thinks you're doing it just to please him or because you don't want to lose him. And yet he was wrong every time, just like now, when he looks at you and sees the warmth of love in your eyes. He's all hunched over and squinting when you notice the bruise on his shoulder, but you don't question it. Although Mr. Riley knows that in the morning you will spend an extra 5 minutes with him to carefully put a cute bandage on him and give him an extra kiss. Oh gods, how he loves it.

—I love you. - Simon mutters, his voice hoarse with fatigue, but still there is genuine tenderness in it. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, kissing the back of your hand, and even goes further, leaving a row of kisses on each finger. Your ring finger gets extra kisses to make up for the silver ring he still hides in the small safe in his office at the base. "I'm almost done planning." - he thinks every day when he wakes up next to you. Every thought about you comes down to immeasurable love.

This is what he lives and breathes. So he gets annoyed every time he checks the calendar on his phone, counting the number of days until your planned trip. He's already struggling not to get down on his knees and propose without a ring, or to do it while his mouth is full of toothpaste and you're wiping the corners of his lips or while you're washing his hair. Fucking hell. Whenever you just commit an act of love, he can't help but feel his throat bubble with the desperation to let it all out and just confess everything he loves about you.

—I love you very much, Si. . .

—No. . .You do not understand. - Simon interrupts you with a sigh, sits up and before you can even comprehend his movements, with inherent confidence he spreads your thighs, taking his rightful place between them. Nevertheless, you realize where everything is going and you know that the man you love is very uncompromising. —Then help me understand.Show me Simon.. - You whisper softly, feeling his erection press against your thigh as he towers over you.

Large hands grip your head, and his night-dark eyes look down with a determination that makes your core pulsate. He looks so hot, his years-honed physique enveloping your entire body. The way he casually lifts one of your legs is always a reminder of how easily he could handle you, putting your body in positions you never thought possible.

—Oh, I'll show you, my dear. I'm the only thing you'll think about tonight. - Simon is not only an uncompromising person, but also a person who keeps his word.

—You are my everything and I love you so much. - His voice breaks with emotion you can’t understand, but he moves until he has both of your hands on the sheets.

Your legs stretch to accommodate, and you almost gasp as he pushes forward.he moves his hand between your legs and rubs gently. Slow movements make you mumble his name.

You sniffle, trying to catch your breath, but he picks up on all your feelings. The scent of his shower gel fills your lungs as he leans in to kiss you. —You're so good to me, baby. Always taking care of me. You fucking deserve everything in this damn world. - The lieutenant can’t help himself, he only thinks about you. This is especially difficult to deal with on long missions.

—B-but. . . - you can barely answer, you can only moan into his chest and let him take you. The brain wasn't even able to process how the body was reacting to everything. It felt right. Your heart becomes heavier and filled with love, which overflows into the little kisses you try to give him. —You make me so happy. So weak next to you.

Simon finds himself pouring out his heart. Of course, these are not the words he would actually say, but such an instant realization makes you both become even closer to each other. It seems to him that if he continues, he will be pricked with tears from emotions that he cannot express in words. It is to you that he hopes to return home with a box in his jacket pocket early the next morning, wondering if he should just give up on everything and finally ask his long-awaited question.

tags- @simp4konig

you are literally the best cod writer on this app. hands down. I was wondering if you could write simon and reader getting a noise complaint the morning after he literally makes dents in the wall from the headboard slamming, reader whining, you choose the rest. your writing is literally art 💋

EHEH ARE YOU SERIOUS 🥹🥹 squealing, blushing, kicking my feet 🤭🌷

MDNI. flashbacks of rough sex, sexual language !!

you couldn’t help the butterflies that ricocheted off the walls of your stomach when your husband shot a coy smirk over his shoulder at you. the feds were at the door — clipboard in hand. “sir, we received several noise complaints throughout the night and into the early hours of this morning. . .”

oh.

‘ungh~ tha’sit, lovie.” he croaked against the shell of your ear — the moist, matted foliage of his pelvic bush kissing your swollen clit with ever piston of his drilling hips against yours. “missed ya s’much, darlin.” his voice, husk and dry, reverberated against your sweat-damp temple where gentle pecks left affectionate stamps in their wake. “feel so good squeezin me like that, mmf~”

“oh yeah?” your husband responds, feigning oblivion. “y’sure they was complainin ‘bout us, lads?” they nod at that, peering past the hunk of your husband to acknowledge your smaller self. “yes, sir. said it wasn’t the first time.” they look back to simon, dragging their eyes up his six-foot-something bulk. “apparently this happens whenever you come home.”

“that so?” simon irks them, his pride potent in his tone and stature. “what’d they tell ya?”

“missed you, si!” you whined, nails raking down the taut flesh of his expansive back. “so big!” you complemented, eyes performing somersaults within their sockets. “so good!” and it was. your husband’s thick cock had never felt better; solid pudge rocking into the soft slope of your now no-doubt pregnant stomach whilst his girthy prick went to town on your innards. you mewled, slender digits clawing the memento of that night into his muscular body as his vigorous movements bashed the headboard into the wall behind.

“your neighbours heard a loud ‘banging’ from about dinner time onwards, mister riley.” one officer informs him. “yeah, and what sounded like screaming up until 4 the ‘morrow.” the other adds. you know your husbands’s ego just grew ten sizes bigger, his dick likely swelling also. “really?” simon humours them, smirk blatantly present as he says so. you giggle, hand flying to cover your mouth as an embarrassed flush taints your cheeks a raw maroon.

“s-simon! the wall!” you cried, wept. blissful tears poured from your hooded eyes as you craned your neck backward — the paint on the wall crumbling as the metal frame of your headboard collided with it with each of his aggressive thrusts. “leave it.” he grunted, fucking into your exhausted pussy with increased force. “let the whole fuckin’ house tumble down.” hissed into your gaping mouth; tongues tangling and saliva accumulating. “let everyone know who’s fuckin’ you dumb like this, yeah? makin you scream ‘til you cum nice an’ hard.” and you did — milking his fat prick dry as a ring of cream slickened around his hairy base. “cum on this cock, love”

“just thought we better have a look ‘round, if you’s don’t mind.”

simon looks back to where you’re watching with a blush. “not at all, officers.” he winks, to which the heat that blushes your flustered face dives southbound to narrow on your throbbing cunt. “c’mon in.” and of course he directs them upstairs first.

“you can do it, sweet’art.” he groaned into your moaning mouth. “let ‘em hear ya.” his pace picked up, inflated balls bouncing off the underside of your upturned arse as he hammered his heavy cock against the roof of your bruised cervix. “let ‘em know who’s home.” your eyes rattled until their whites were visible, pupils rolling back to stare your brain down when his weeping cockhead bumped into your cunt’s velvety roof — pre-cum mingling with the cream of your impending climax. “that’s it, love. hug me nice and tight.” you let out a strangled squeal at his words, voice breaking whilst he battered your smaller frame into the creaking mattress. the bed frame shook, swaying back and forth in tandem with his zealous rhythm. “gonna wake the neighbours.” you slurred through spit-covered lips — red and puckered. “good.” simon retorted, muffled by the slaps of skin ploughing skin.

“how did this happen?” one of the cops asks, gesturing to wear the wall has eroded. the plaster beneath reveals exposed brick where next door attaches to the structure of your abode, loose wiring and pipes hanging down. the headboard is dented, the paint from it now transferred onto what remains of the wall behind. “wear ‘n tear.” simon shrugs, slinging a lazy arm around your shoulders. you lean into him, legs still aching from last night. “besides.” he adds, slyly pinching your backside. “was happy to see the missus.”

simon riley that eventually gets his cat hybrid darling pregnant, it makes you all sleepy and lazy, carrying his offspring inside of you, and you both don't even know if they're going to be hybrids or just regular humans, but they give you a rather hard time, even without yet being born.

you're sleeping almost whole day, supple and round form curled in your shared bed with your fluffy tail encircling you, nuzzling against simon's pillow to breath in his scent, feeling content knowing that you reek of him, and he is as well.

when you awake, you either just padding around in sleepy haze, or nuzzling against simon all clingy and giddy, your hands encircling your round baby bump softly, little smile gracing your lips, as you purr in delight, so happy with the knowledge that you finally got pregnant by simon.

and he's caring about you, much more sweeter, putting all the teasing he had for you before aside, constantly lingering against your side, stroking behind your fluffy ears and at your growing bump, soft kisses and sugary words of adoration sent your way.

simon is nice even when you go all whiny and horny, rubbing your exposed, slick pussy all over his cock needily, needing him to just take you, and he gives you the most careful, tender sex, meaty cock stretching your pussy carefully, ramming into you shallowly, but enough for you to go brainless.

babble about how you want to be full forever, making it hard for him to hold back so he wouldn't rearrange your cunt completely, instead he hushes you with soft kisses against your drool coated lips, promising that he would give you more later, because you're already full with little ones.

main masterlist. quidelines.

thinking about dog hybrid!simon — an awful mutt by any means, not hiding his frequent irritation and sharp canines, twitching his sharp ear adorned with a ragged scar in displeasure, dark brown tail taps against his leg.

all the soldiers under his command scatter every time he walks by or focuses his voidless, dark gaze on them, any conversations instantly become quieter and heads bow in acknowledgment of their lieutenants presence, just as not to hear another harsh, barked command.

and it is worth imagining their surprise when he suddenly begins to behave much calmer, because it turns out that simon has found himself the prettiest human existing, you.

it's common for humans to be the owners of hybrids, but in your relationship it's the other way around — simon is so used to having control that he can't unlearn his old habits, only now there's constant horniness that has been added to his usual demeanor.

and you don't mind it, oh, you really like simon — with all his grumpiness, dark eyes framed by beautiful blonde eyelashes, his animal features that charmingly indicate his feelings, letting his brown tail wag quickly every time you stroke him or leave a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek.

and you always amused by his clinginess, even if it always ends with dry humping, when simon sneaks up on you from behind, enveloping your body and mapping your soft skin with calloused, thick palms, rolling his broad hips against your backside, as his tail thumps on his leg.

or your supple body under his muscular one, bend in the mating press by his pawing hands, as simon plunges his fat cock inside your tight, pulsing gooey pussy, emptying load after load from his weeping tip inside your fertile womb, drooling and growling like a real mutt, as you arch with chocked mewls and rolling eyes, while simon's canines sink into your neck.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

This is stunning- Oorah! Anyone get the Oorah reference~?

[takes place right after this]

you were going to combust. you can feel it.

the zip ties on your legs had been cut loose. but you came to realize that it was not for your benefit. your legs had been slung over a pair of broad shoulders, toes curling on his back. Gaz worked his mouth over you, his tongue stroking firmly through your soaked folds.

the other Sergeant, a Scottish man with a mohawk and the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen, fondled your breasts and whispered the dirtiest things to you, drawing you closer to your orgasm than ever before.

the largest man, the one wearing a skull mask, watched on while Price circled your no-good husband like a shark, looking for answers. "so who else knows about the safe house?"

"i didn't tell nobody!" came his irate voice as he struggled against his restraints. you hissed sharply when the heat slinks down to the base of your spine because of having your swollen clit sucked and swirled upon by a feverish mouth.

a long moan drawls out of you, your head tipping back. delirium is starting to take over your senses. it's been building and building and for a while, they've denied your body what it needs. but now— now you think you're careening right towards the edge.

and this time, they have no intention of stopping you from hurling over.

"Soap." Price calls out, not looking away from your husband.

the Sergeant pulled his mouth away from your breast while he still played with the other. you whimpered softly, legs jerking when Gaz's fingers grazed the deepest sensitive nerve he could find inside your throbbing cunt.

"dinnae think she'll last long, Captain." he sounds as wrecked as you feel. "her legs are tremblin'."

he wasn't lying. Gaz had his arms hooked around your thighs, to keep you still. you moaned helplessly as he swirled his tongue against your clit, the fire in your belly licking at your pelvis. you catch the fondness in his eyes when you looked down to watch him, to watch the way his tongue licked through your folds.

he was so good— so fucking good at what he does. you bet they all were in different ways. but Gaz is the first to have you like this, and that is something you'll hold dearly to your heart.

you think he knows it too. when they found out that you've never had your pussy eaten, not even by your sorry excuse of a husband, he was the first to volunteer. and he took the task very seriously.

Blair fumed in his chair, trying as best as he can to kick and scream, but to no avail. the chair only makes a loud sound when it scrapes against the floor, yet he does not get anywhere beyond that. "that is my wife, goddammit!"

"doesn't look like it from my perspective, mate." Ghost muses, tilting his head. you think he's smiling underneath that mask.

"last chance." Price leans to down to look at Blair. "who else knows?"

"i don't know!"

Price sighs and goes to stand behind the restrained man, gripping his hair tightly to make him look at you.

"when she comes in his mouth," he starts, eyes trailing to your dazed expression, to the your glazed eyes as he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "we're each going to take turns with her and we're going to make her forget that she's even married." Blair hissed, eyes widening when the grip in his hair grew tighter. "and we're going to make you watch every second of it."

"hell, that's if she'll even remember your name by the time we're done with her—" Ghost cuts off when you wail, your back arching off the chair while your toes curled deliciously.

you think your head blanked. dark spots clouded your vision as the ecstasy consumed you. Gaz held fast, groaning loudly into your cunt, keeping his thumb firm on your clit while you gushed eagerly in his mouth, prolonging your pleasure. you slumped over the chair, panting deeply, when the high slowly came to a stop.

"tha's a good fuckin' girl." Soap cheered with a wicked smile.

Price chuckled. "Soap, you're first. Gaz, you're next."

"no, don't you fucking touch her—"

you were delirious and dizzy when the zip ties on your arms got cut loose. for a moment, you felt weightless, a hand cradling your head when it lolled back until you were set down on a dark surface.

someone was touching your legs, spreading you open, fingers sinking into your pulsing cunt.

"Steamin' bloody jesus, Gaz." a voice groaned. "she's fucking soaked. what did ye do tae the poor lass?"

"just a little magic trick." a chuckle followed before you were yanked further on the edge of the hard surface.

it's a desk. you were lying on a desk. your husband's desk. your eyes fluttered open to find Soap's heated stare lingering on your breasts, his cock hard and a hand cupping its base as he glides it through your slick folds. your leg instinctively curled against his hip as he pushed inside, a weak mewl escaping you.

"fuck..." his head tilts back as he drawls before he immediately starts fucking you in earnest. you don't get a chance to breathe before the next orgasm starts building up in your veins.

he's rough with you, praising you for taking him so well. places a hand on your stomach before it trails to your breasts as his thrusts hammer against your throbbing walls with a glint in his eye. he plucks your nipples, painfully pulling them, grinning when you mewl and make weak attempts to shove at his hand.

you feel it coming all too fast, your breath seizing in your lungs as the pleasure overrides your system. he fucks you harder, a howl escaping his mouth when he cums inside you. he's so mean about it too, especially when he mocks your husband.

"she's so fucking tight when she cums." he pants, grinning. "bet ye've never felt tha', have ye?"

Gaz is a little softer with you. takes his time dragging his cock in and out of you, watching your expression twist to that of pleasure. but he's just as heinous to your spouse as Soap while moans spill out of your mouth.

"you've never made her sound like that, huh?" he scoffs, chuckling with a shake of his head. he wasn't referring to your moans, but the lewd squelches of your pussy as he jerks his hips. "some husband, you are. it's fucking pathetic."

you don't know why that made you clench tightly around him, but it takes him by surprise. "oh, you like it when we talk shit about him?"

and just like that, the small comment opens Pandora's box.

"such a good little wife you are, putting up with him." he says. "he doesn't deserve a sweet cunt like yours."

Ghost makes Blair listen to every one of those insults. how his cock was only ever good for nothing. wasted on a good pussy like yours.

"aww, gonna cry?" Gaz cooed mockingly when he saw Blair's cheeks flushed red from rage and his eyes were glazed with tears.

"what a muppet." Price muttered. "poor thing needed us to save her."

Gaz makes you sit up so he could still fuck you but pressed his lips your ear, whispering for only you to hear, "he doesn't deserve you, love."

that was what tipped you over.

your breath catches in your lungs as you hold onto him, his hips stuttering when your cunt squeezes him. he floods your pussy with a muffled groan against your shoulder. your heart ached when he lays you back down and slips out of you, pressing one last kiss on your lips and handing you over to the next man.

"oh, no, ye don't." you barely had the strength to shift your gaze to find Soap angling Blair's head towards you. "keep watching them do what ye couldn't do."

Ghost walks over to you, passing by Gaz, who pats his shoulder.

"go easy on her, Ghost." he says. "she's fragile."

"noted." the masked man replies before he reaches you.

you were a little scared when you noticed how broad he is up close. he slowly parts your legs, fingers dipping inside you for a moment, a small whimper leaving your throat.

"fuckin' hell." he drones hoarsely, eyes darkening at the cum dribbling out of you. "you boys did a number on 'er."

to your surprise, he flips you over and spreads your legs. he bends one of your knees on the table

"brace yourself, love." you barely had the time to hold onto the edge of the table. a squeak bursts out of you when you feel the tip slipping inside.

oh, he's big. you breathe through your nose, your forehead pressing against the table. he pushes in slowly, drawing a strained moan from you.

when he pulls back, you're allowed a moment of respite before his hips snap. a sharp cry is heard out of you as he settles inside your cunt, humming deeply as he relishes the feeling of you.

"taking me so well, love." he begins a low pace, letting you adjust to his size. his hand grips your neck and he pulls you close, your back to his chest, making sure your husband saw every detail. "did he fuck you like this, sweetheart?"

your spine prickles with heat as his thrusts continue to increase in speed. you moaned softly, his hand squeezing your neck while the other played with your breast.

you manage to shake your head, eyes rolling back as he flicked one nipple with his fingers. "no? well, that's a damn shame."

your eyes catch a glimpse of Gaz leaning back on the couch as his hand squeezes his cock while he watches. Soap palms his cock as he was standing behind Blair, whispering something in his ear that you couldn't quite catch. but the gleam in his eye when his gaze finds yours made you whimper.

you feel Ghost's lips at your ear. "if you were mine, i'd fuck you in every position ever known to man on ever piece of furniture in sight."

you whine at the idea. of being fucked like that. of being his. of being theirs.

it makes your cunt pulsate, makes you tremble in his grasp. "oh, fuck."

his hand slides down until— your eyes squeeze shut as a shaky moan leaves your parted mouth, "ah!"

the salacious noises are all you could hear besides his grunts in your ear. his fingers swirled around your clit until you squirmed and ached, clawing at the hand at your neck.

"cum on my cock, lovie." he urges softly. "make it yours."

you think you screamed when you plummeted to the abyss. you don't know. hard to hear above the ringing in your ears, but you felt it all. Ghost gently laid you down, your breasts mushed against the expensive wooden desk and turned your head just enough for Blair to take a good long look at your dazed expression.

all the while you felt Ghost's cock plunge in and out of you at a brutal pace, making you drool all over the table until his cum bursts deep inside your pussy. some part of you felt guilty for enjoying this. yet the other part enjoyed the way your husband's face crumpled at the sight of you.

not because you were being fucked by someone other than him. but because you liked knowing he was made aware of the fact that he couldn't fuck anyone to save his own life.

"saved the best for last." you heard Ghost's voice.

you panted softly as you waited. Ghost's cum leaked out of you, dripping on the desk. you didn't think you could take much more.

you thought Price was going to take you from behind like his Lieutenant did, but no. he gently flips you on your back, eyes immediately dipping to your messy cunt.

"pretty little thing, ain't she?" he muses.

"damn right, Captain." you heard Gaz's voice, his breaths a little unsteady from where he is. "feels like a fucking dream too."

"is that right?" a dark chuckle follows the rhetorical inquiry. he's then interrupted by faint struggling, eyes shifting to what you assume is your husband.

his screams are muffled this time. you crane your view just in time to see him getting smacked in the face by Soap.

"keep him quiet." Price commanded. "i want to enjoy this as much as you boys did."

your eyes widen when he lifts your leg and rests it on his shoulder, faint rustling sounds and a belt clinking. your eyes drop low to find the red tip smearing all over the mess the others left on your folds before he taps the head on your clit a few times.

your toes curled and your head softly falls back on the desk. he presses inside just a bit, causing you to wince, the stretch a little overwhelming already. "relax a bit for me, darlin'."

he pushes deeper, your hand presses against his stomach as you whined, "i can't—"

"yes, you can, love." he draws back, giving you a moment to breathe. "just one more, come on." your eyes peered open and you found his gaze. "one more and we'll have a nice bath drawn for you and then we'll put you to bed."

you don't know how you've lasted this long. you don't even know if you're still going to be alive by the time he's done with you.

he held your gaze as he dragged his cock inside, prompting a lewd moan from you. one snap of his hips and you were already clenching down on him.

"fuck, gonna cum f'me already, love?" he hums before throwing your other leg over his shoulder and bends you in half. "we're just getting started."

a broken sound comes out of you when he really starts to fuck you like he means it. the position allowed him to sink in so deep in the way that's going to haunt you for weeks.

he rocked his hips, each thrust had you gasping for air and clawing at his arms, stroking your sensitive walls like he wanted to carve himself into you forever. your weak cries didn't go unheard as you tried to shift away from the way his cock rammed into the deepest, most sensitive nerve.

"take it, darling." his hands grip your hips, his pace becoming more brutal, a white ring gathering at the hilt of him.

"please—" you mewled, but you don't know what for.

"take everything i give you. which is more than your husband ever did." he groaned when you tightened around him, reaching a hand between your bent legs to rub your clit.

heat flared all too rapidly and you felt like you imploded. your back arched as he pressed a firm hand on your stomach, groaning out loud as your pussy spasmed around his hard shaft. your mouth hung open but not a sound came out of you as his rapid thrusts dragged out your high.

you heard a hoarse shout and the sensation of his hot cum shooting into your pussy before you blacked out.

you woke up later on the softest bed in an unfamiliar room, wrapped in a fluffy pink gown. you smelled like shower gel and your skin didn't feel as sweaty and icky as you expected it to be. exhaustion had long settled into your bones, so you don't feel like getting out of bed.

someone opens the door and enters holding a tray filled with food. it's Gaz. he smiles as he puts down the tray on the dresser. "you must be hungry."

you think you might get used to this for a little while.

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mafia!141 masterlist offer a note in the picklejar

bouncing on simon's fat cock that nestled deep into your slimy, squelching cunt, you're wearing his pajama shirt with a cracked, frayed skull print on the dark fabric that lifts up with every slap of your supple ass against his muscular, lightly hairy thighs.

shirt flutters up every time you plunk down on his meaty shaft with a loud squelch of your gooey pussy, throbbing tip oozing pearly precum against your sleek walls as simon rolls back his head with noisy sighs and growling moans, beefy hands pawing at your pretty body through the black fabric.

you don't let him get under the shirt to squeeze and stroke your naked skin, slide up to tease your perky nipples, you only lean closer to cover his neck with sharp bites and hot kisses, watching the fair skin turn burning red under your soft lips.

your delicate fingers crawl between your own legs, touching the slick of juices that smear the inside of your willowy thighs, finding the throbbing nub of your engorged clit, flicking the puffy flesh and making the walls of your cunt pulse and clench, which pulls chocked, whiny moan out of simon's thin lips

— “bloody hell, g-god — i'm close, s-sweetheart, slow the heck down!„ yet you don't hear his plea, all the sounds in your ears are incoherent buzz as you arch your back like a cat, white flash of pleasure rolls through your body, making your gooey cunt clamp on simon's fat cock, spurting with your sweet, creamy cum.

it triggers his own orgasm, causing simon to twitch as his dark eyes roll back back into his skull, calloused hands roughly grip the curve of your waist, pinning you in place, letting his cock press into your spongy spot and jerk with spurting ropes of his thick load.

simon's ragged gasps lost against the background of your sweet, slurred mewls of — “s-si! fuckfuckfuck, feels good!„ as he fills you with jerking hips and shallow pumps till your combined cum leaks from your creamed pussy back towards his hairy pelvis.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

Y'all please cage me.

cw: hybrids, dubcon (?), trapping, knotting and things.

dog hybrid simon riley that tries to mount you, it's not his fault, it's his owner who's responsible for bringing a sweet, docile kitten in the house that already has a big dog, he's never showed his affection to any possible animals around, even to his own specie, how he should, but upon meeting you, soft, supple thing with groomed tail and fluffy ears, he remembers he has a cock to stuff and breed.

you expected him to scent you and then forget about you, after all, he's a scary dog, and the man that took you promised that he's lazy and wouldn't even bat an eye at you, but as soon as your feet touched the floor, simon bumped you down on the parquet floor with his whole, heavy weight, pressing his rugged mug between your legs, huffing out a terrifying, pleases groan, his tail wagging left and right.

it's led to you almost clawing his eyes out, hissing and scurrying as far away from him as possible, threatening that you'll slice his face if he'd try it again, defensive little thing, a sight that pulls a lopsided grin to his pale lips, making your fur stand up on your ears and body, forgetting about trying to make up friends, knowing best than talking to this horny mutt.

yet simon plays it off, acts as apologetic as he can, tucking his excited tail between his burly legs, lowers his ears down, almost manages to do these honeyed, puppy eyes when he passes you across the house, getting under your fur, by helping you, giving you his sleeping place while the owner orders a new one for you, even stoles some treats for you from the kitchen.

anything, just to lower your awareness of him, making you warm up to an unruly mutt and feel comfortable with and beside him, pushing his inappropriate behavior to pure curiosity, seeing that he ain't trying to do something like that again, even through there's a sleazy murkiness to his eyes you can't piece together, until your heat doesn't hits you.

you come to him willingly, padding from your bedding to his, where he's all sprawled out, deep asleep with rumbling snores, and your mind to hazy to comprehend what's happening, why it's so hot, why you're all leaky between your furry, supple thighs, plopping beside him with loud, needy purrs, as you rub against his whole body, ass perched out with your pretty, curving spine.

simon knew you'd come, waited for your heat to struck, for you to seek him as your comforter, nuzzle your adorable face with whiny mewls in his thick palm, he's not a patient dog, and he won't torture you by acting like he's asleep, so he rises and tugs you close, pressing you into his bed, making you arch sweet and sharp enough to present your needy, fluttering hole, messy with dripping slick.

he eats your pussy properly, messes his whole maw with your slick and creamy cum, nose pressed in your silken, soaking fur, while he flattens his rough, thick tongue against your puffy folds and bumpy, swollen clit, slurping down on you when he nudges at your slit, licking further to your clenching hole, stuffing you with at least something for a short time, preparing you for his knot.

you welcome his chubby cock properly, your hole tight, yet so slick that simon is able to sheathe himself along your rippling, pulsing walls in couple of squelchy slides, flicking his finger against your throbby, little bud of nerves, looking at the way you purr and meow in pleasure as he stretches you out, filling you so full your soft, little tummy bulges out from his girth.

simon will knock you up, knot your tight pussy nice, making you claw at his wide shoulders while he slobbers over your fluffy, plump tits, rough tongue torturing your perky nipples, suckling wet kisses on your tender body, that would be even more so after he'd make sure you're pregnant with his chubby pups, as you keen his name and plead him to breed you.

ears pressed tight to your head, flicking at each pound of his engorged, fattening cock in your leaking hole, rutting his thickening tip against your cervix, your spongy spot rubbing against his veiny shaft rapidly, making you writhe, turning his wide, muscular back in a mess of bleeding crescent scratches, as your long tail wraps around his leg, brushing against his thumping one, accepting simon's popping knot with pitchy meows and gushy hole.

your pregnancy would be an owners problem by the morning, when he'd stumble across you tucked against simon's solid chest, purring in your peaceful slumber after being sufficiently filled with loads of potent, thick cum, morning air filled with guttural, protective growls and clogging scent of sex, and it's seems like it's wouldn't be easy to make simon stay away from you from now on.

main masterlist. quidelines.

HEHEEHEEHEHHEHEHEH THE WAY I READ THIS 20 TIMES.

being simon's riley barracks bunny, belonging only to your lieutenant, mean bastard to everyone, but not you, he can't treat the docile sweetheart that warms his bed poorly, not after he turned you from a proper soldier to just his personal, cum dump.

you naively believe that not a single soul knows about your unstable relationships, that you wear sucked kisses and bite marks on your skin under layers of clothes, speckling your skin from the curve of your neck and down from between your thighs, not to even talk about the leaking, creamy mess in your cotton panties.

but everyone knows, memorized your moans by the way they turn pitchy when simon spreads your dangling legs and presses your knees on either side of your head, dark irises of his eyes blown with pooling hunger, every snap of his wide hips makes the fat girth of his twitching cock slide in your tight pussy with obscene squelch, stretching your snug, pulsing gummy walls.

they know how you sound when he get's particularly rough, fucking into your from behind, headboard of the bed rattling against the wall with each sobbing whimper of yours, babbling mindlessly for simon to not stop, that you feel his cock so deep, and he growls like a beast, chest rumbling behind your dewy, arched back, as his calloused hands palm at the globs of your ass.

simon makes sure every noise is heard, the rapid, ringing slaps that sting on your skin, the way he pants a sultry commands for you to obey for, each of them emphasized by your sweet, syrupy whine, gasping slurred “yes, sir„ that only spur him on, until your brain doesn't turn in complete mush, eyes glassy as you sob with each jab of his bulbous, leaking tip against your spongy spot.

no one ever brings up your relationship without looking at the fact that simon never hides it, dragging you with him like an adorable pet, holding you on his lap, or sending you away in a loud enough whisper to warm his bed in his chambers before he arrives, and when anyone sees your absolutely nude picture on his cracked, phone home screen, they don't open their mouth.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[s]creams.

simon riley wearing jeans, it's just a simple pair of blue, nothing particularly new in his wardrobe, the knees slightly washed off from the countless amounts of being dirtied up, scraped and then washed up, but the way he looks in them makes you unsettled, fidgeting without tearing your dancing gaze off his brawny body.

meaty thighs hugged tightly by the fabric, growing more loose at his calfs, but holding securely at his wide hips and round ass, your eyes tracing every dip and twitch of his muscles beneath the fabric, and simon knows you're looking, sees the way your legs clench together sweetly, there's no doubt that you're soaked wet by just looking at your man, digging with your fingers in your knee caps.

that's how simon makes you hump his thigh, rocking your hips in desperate circles and messy jerks while you rub your dripping pussy raw against his jeans, a teared hole at the gusset of your soaked, cotton panties, as you wet the outline of his chubbed cock beneath the harsh fabric with glistening strings of pooling slick, his girth swollen and throbbing with leaking precum, but he's too focused on making you soak his pants.

fingers splayed on your hips, helping you rock forward, canting them for better pleasure as you spill keening moans from your slack lips, pebbled clit dragging just right across his tensed, clothed muscles, and you hiccup, chasing the feeling through the spasms in your trembling thighs and liquid heat across your tummy that makes your toes curl, as simon purrs in your ear about what a sight you are.

main masterlist. quidelines.

Actually balling my eyes out, so sweet!! 😭😭😭😭😭

Part one

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Ex-husband Simon who: Didn't leave your side when you said you were pregnant, who went to see you every day, even if those visits were after his work, in the middle of the night.

Ex-husband Simon who: Made video calls to you when he couldn't show up at your house, talking to you and the children, asking you multiple times if you were okay. Most of the time he listened to you talk about your day, he listened until you fell asleep on the other side, and he watched you sleep for a while. When he saw that you were safe and well, he would whisper goodnight and I love you, hoping that you would somehow hear it.

Ex-husband Simon who: Always found a way to go to all your appointments, just as he had done with your other times when you were pregnant. Every month he would go with you for a check-up, he could even play the tough guy, but he couldn't hold back the tear that formed in the corner of his eye when he heard the little ones' heartbeat. His own flesh and blood.

Ex-husband Simon who: Cried his heart out when he found out he was going to be the father of two girls, feeling nervous at the same time. At the ultrasound, he held your hand so tightly, his other hand stroking your hair as you watched your girls. He couldn't have been happier, and even happier that you were carrying his children once again.

Ex-husband Simon who: Almost committed a traffic accident when one of your kids called him, the little one saying that you weren't feeling well. He drove as fast as he could to your house, his hands shaking as he went to look for you. It was even worse when he found you pale, almost falling to the ground, probably a drop in your pressure. But it was enough to keep him up all night.

Ex-husband Simon who: Wouldn't take no for an answer when you told him he didn't need to move in with you, that you could manage on your own. But how? A whole house to look after, children, pregnancy. No, it was too much. You didn't have to deal with it on your own when he was around. So despite your protests, the next day he showed up with his suitcases, ready to move in with you once again.

Ex-husband Simon who: Did everything in the house, he didn't let you lift a single weight, he didn't even allow you to spend much time walking back and forth. You were pregnant, getting bigger and bigger, all you had to do was relax. The rest he did without complaint. Although he did burn the food, most of the time.

Ex-husband Simon who: Never ignored your cravings, no matter if it was late at night, or early in the morning, he would buy you whatever you asked of him. Even if it meant going out in the middle of the night to buy some random flavor of ice cream, he didn't care, as long as he could see you satisfied.

Ex-husband Simon who: Bought all the baby's utensils together with you, from the crib to the clothes, bottles, pacifiers, whatever you wanted to buy, he would go with you, and pay for everything, of course. Always buying toys for your other children, too. And he'd always buy whatever you wanted or needed, he'd never forget you.

Ex-husband Simon who: Surprised you by preparing the babies' nursery with everything you had bought, he renovated an entire room to make it fit for the arrival of the girls, and he also made some changes to the little ones' room, giving it to them as a gift.

Ex-husband Simon who: Watched you every night, waiting for you to fall asleep, keeping a watchful eye in case you needed something, anything. He was willing to help you with simple things, even if you needed help going to the toilet, if you had a craving, he was there for you. Once he saw you already asleep, curled up in the sheets, cuddled up with your comforter, he would go over to you and give you a kiss on the forehead, whispering I love you, and silently praying that you would respond with an 'I do too'.

Ex-husband Simon who: Agreed to spend the whole night by your side, comforting you after you had a terrible nightmare involving the children. He lay next to you as you asked, gently wrapping his arms around you and hugging you, kissing you on the cheek and calming you down.

Ex-husband Simon who: Felt his heart skip a beat when you told him you loved him and needed him, and that you wanted him to move back in with you and the children permanently. You didn't have to ask him twice, because he was absolutely sure that he would come back to you whenever you wanted him to.

Ex-husband Simon who: Couldn't contain the urge to kiss you, to touch you, just hearing you say you loved him, was enough to ignite a hot flame in him. In a matter of seconds he had his hands all over you, once again claiming what was surely his.

Ex-husband Simon who: Slowly pushed you to the side, spooning you from behind, his lips on your neck as he slowly entered you, pampering you with little kisses here and there. He made love to you so gently, in such a loving way, thrusting into you nice and deep, just the way you liked it. He'd be fucked if he didn't make this night with you count, he did everything the way you loved it, just to hear you begging him for more and more. He wasn't going to let you out of his arms that night.

Ex-husband Simon who: Woke up before you, ready to make breakfast for you and the children, but all his plans went up in smoke when he heard you give a little gasp, whispering that your water broke. He panicked.

Ex-husband Simon who: Knew it was your third pregnancy, but he couldn't control the adrenaline when you went into labor, it was always like the first time. He didn't waste much time and took you to the hospital, praying to whatever God up there that everything would work out.

Ex-husband Simon who: Stayed by your side throughout your labor, holding your hand while whispering sweet words in your ear, he didn't care how hard you were squeezing his hand, it even hurt, but he wanted to do the best he could to help you. It was desperate that he couldn't do anything for you, but his ears focused on the sound of crying that echoed through the hospital room, the first girl had come out, healthy and well. After some more time, thank God, the other little one came out healthy too.

Ex-husband Simon who: Cried inconsolably while holding one of the girls in his arms, rocking her while looking at her with all the tenderness in the world. She was so beautiful, so reminiscent of you. His heart beat so fast as he saw one of his little girls, his little daughter. Just as he didn't leave your side, watching you breastfeed the other little one. He tried to stop himself from crying even more at the sight.

Ex-husband Simon who: He won't leave your side, ever, not even if you asked him to. Especially now that your family was even bigger, he knew the responsibility that would come with two small children, but he also knew that every night awake would be worth it. Just as he wouldn't give up until he put a ring on your finger once again.

part 4 of regency era!ghost x f!reader

the castle’s frivolous chatter sometimes bores you. other times, it keeps you entertained when you need a distraction. and other days, you’re hardly surprised by the whispers that flitter like butterflies just barely out of your peripheral.

“she’s been seen at promenade.” you barely caught Flora’s hushed murmur. “please tell me the queen hasn’t heard yet.”

oh, you’ve heard. Lady Price spared you the headache as was quick to inform you with her letter before sunrise. you knew of her arrival long before the whole castle woke.

“i hear that Lady Price was seen atop her husband’s shoulder the other day.”

well, that part was left out of the letter you received. “oh?”

“poor thing was screeching her lungs out as he dragged her back to their estate.”

your shocked expression does nothing to restrain Ann from giggling to herself. it’s hard to find the matter amusing. such a scandalous thing to happen, surely her lord husband won’t be best pleased about the scene she caused. and who knows how he might have reacted to it.

“is she alright?” you ask.

“from what i heard, yes.” Ann replied easily, pouring a cup of tea for you and herself. “quite a spirited young woman, that one. she keeps the lord on his toes every day.”

there’s not a hint of worry in her tone. she’s not as concerned about the news as you are. perhaps not near as she should be. or perhaps you’re overreacting. Lord Price is not a man to be trifled with but he is not known to be cruel to those who don’t deserve it.

you hum more to yourself, your hands rubbing together. “perhaps i should invite her for tea and she can tell me all about it.”

it hasn’t been long since you saw your friend. you’d welcome her with open arms any time of the day if she came for a visit. it’ll distract you from the new developments in your life–

the door shoots open, drawing yours and Ann’s attention. you put the teacup back on its saucer and hold it at your lap just as Flora quickly walks in, breathing heavily. her nervous expression fills you with dread. “what’s wrong, Flora?”

“y–your majesty.” she bows, wringing a white cloth in her hands. “uh, Sir Keller is here.”

“whatever for?” you ask.

“he brings a message from the king.” she blurts out, glancing between you and Ann. “and… a–and a gift.”

ah. now you understood her terror.

you truly didn’t think the situation between you and the king would get worse. you made yourself as clear as you could and as politely as you could the other day, surely he would take the message and leave you be until your cycle forces you back to his chambers.

this?

“a… gift?” eyebrows raised, a heavy sigh leaves you when you attempt to comprehend whatever is going on. so much for having a peaceful morning.

you and Ann glance at each other, slightly fearful of whatever is to come of the day. both of them look to you, expectant. what could you do? besides face whatever the king throws at you head on, of course.

you nod. “send him in.”

for those few precious moments, you brace yourself. this gift makes you want to retreat back into a pile of linens and stay there until when you’re sure no one will come looking for you anymore.

“what do you think it is?” Ann quietly asks, popping a biscuit in her mouth.

“a giant spider, i reckon.” she stops chewing. you smirk, raising the teacup to your lips. “might jump out of the box once it’s open.”

her face pales and you nearly have to choke back a smile just as a tall knight walks into the room. he’s tall with golden strands of hair and kind blue eyes. he’s one of the few guards your husband trusts to be around him.

you wonder what this truly about. it is doubtful that the king is sending a gift and a message, there has to be something else besides that. a string attached. perhaps he requires something of you. though you wonder why he does not just come to you and say it.

either way, you steel yourself for the outcome.

“Sir Alex Keller.” you greet him, keeping your tone light but detached.

you note the box he holds under his arm, his tense posture. the expression on his face is friendly, yet you sense a touch of unease. you wonder if he’s prepared for a battle to ensue. for you to shoot the messenger and demand his head to be put on a platter.

“apologies for intruding on your day, your majesty.” he gives a courtesy bow and a tight smile.

“it’s quite alright.” you say, attempting to ease his nerves. you made a point to try not to blame him or anyone who gets caught in the crosshairs of your tumultuous marriage.

“the king sends his regards.” Alex reaches for the box and holds it out to you. “and this.”

you nod to Ann, who raises and takes the box. she brings it to you, placing it on your lap. its contents were… definitely not what you’d expected. not in this lifetime, at least.

the necklace stares back at you. delicate thing, small, the golden metal tying together lovely gemstones and pearls that gleamed under the morning light with pearl earrings to match. it’s regal. beautiful.

now what’s the string attached to it?

you kept your expression neutral. not wanting to give away your thoughts, you fear Sir Keller might say something to your husband that he might not want to hear. showing joy is not an option either. you don’t know what message that could send.

Ann clears her throat, glancing to you. reminding you to say something. she adds, “a stunning set, my queen.”

that, you cannot deny. however, that isn’t the problem.

is this the king’s way of buying your good graces? and he could not be bothered to give it to your himself, he had to send his guard as if he was thanking a guest. like he was too tied up with work to properly acknowledge you (as usual), a far cry from how strange he’s been acting the past few days.

but then…

your gaze drifts to Flora.

promenade. then the pieces fell in place.

the king’s most likely too occupied with entertaining his mistress. this… gift is just something to distract you.

you look at the note that came with the box.

For my queen. –Simon

restraining a scoff is difficult, but you manage it. men and their deluded ways of trying to hide things. did the king truly think you would believe these lies? his odd behaviour is not nearly credible to make you think he even means it, why on earth would he think gifts and notes would erase nearly four years of a dead marriage?

“is it…” Sir Keller began slowly, unsure. “to your liking, your majesty?”

there it is. there’s the string attached.

he wants to know if you’ve bought the lie.

you close the box and plaster a smile. if your husband wants to fool around with his mistress, by all means. you’ve never stopped him, nor do you even have the power to. all of this was just time consuming and unnecessary because the king could have just gone to see her without ever needing to involve you in any way like always.

“indeed.” you say with a practised tone. “do thank the king for me.”

the box is handed back to Ann, who then gives it to Flora. she stays where she is, holding it. you’re tempted to tell her to throw it out the window, but you feel that you have to wait until the only man in the room leaves.

your hands fold on your lap, gaze fixing on the guard standing from across the table. he watches you, almost as if he’s expecting something. your eyebrow raises. “is that all, Sir Keller?”

his eyes drop to his feet. you don’t know what that means and you try not to care for what might imply.

“yes, your majesty.” he says, taking one last bow. “pardon me.”

when he leaves, the silence that remained in the room was deafening. not one person knew what to say. you reach for your tea and take a sip of it while Flora puts the open box next to you.

“well, that was odd.” chimed Ann. you hummed in agreement, eyes straying to the necklace once more.

it is the first gift your husband ever gave you. and it’s not even a gift. not truly anyway. gifts aren’t meant to be used to distract wives from finding out about infidelities or trying to soften the blow of the discovery.

worse things have broken your heart a thousand times over. but this does dampen your spirits for the day.

“well, it’s definitely not a spider, thank god.” Ann continued. you can feel her watching your expression while you read the morning paper. “your favourite colour, if i’m not mistaken. and i do remember you mentioning your fondness for pearls once.”

“pity i have an abundance of jewellery. much more than i know what to do with.” there’s an uncomfortable quiet that trails your reply.

Flora asks, “what will you do it with?”

you quietly shrug, sipping your tea. “gift it to someone else, perhaps. i wish not to be reminded of the king in my own chambers.”

it doesn’t do you any good to have him tainting your only sanctuary. it is why you’re extremely thankful that he never bothered to venture into your room for any reason. the closest he’s ever come to that was when he was at your doorstep the other day.

“the invite to Lady Price.” you remind Ann, glancing to the side.

“yes. right away, your majesty.” Ann stands to make the arrangements.

the king’s presence or whatever trinkets he brings will not going to taint a perfectly good day. he can brazenly show off his mistress for all you care and whether he thinks one necklace with distract you from the fact that he’s a terrible husband is entirely his delusion.

one which you’re happy to feed into if that is what he wants if it means he'll leave you be. you don’t particularly care either way.

“tha’s it? tha’s all she said?” Soap asks, staring at Alex incredulously.

“that’s all she said.” Alex nods, downing the last of his alcohol.

the sun hasn’t reached its peak and Alex is already on his second glass. whatever happened in his chambers shot his nerves. according to him, you didn’t seem sad or angry. which would be good, but Simon has spent enough time around you to know when you’re trying to be diplomatic instead of being honest.

you aren’t happy with the gift.

the simple fact sits heavily in Simon’s gut. you might have smiled and gave the perfect answer, but you aren’t pleased. at all.

of course Simon expected this. he discreetly asked Gaz to ask around the castle for anything you liked and still expected you to throw the necklace back in his face. but this was... a passive smile, acceptance.

fuck, it’s worse than he thought.

Simon looks out the window, slowly tapping his finger against the glass. “where is she?”

“the tulips will work better with the theme.” one of your maids said.

Simon sees four women taking a stroll through the garden. one of them holds a parasol above your head, shielding you from the afternoon sun. you’re a stunning sight. you’re dressed in a cool blue dress, holding two sheets of paper. your brows furrowed in concentration as you study each of them.

“i agree.” you hummed, glancing at your handmaiden. “any word from Lady Price?”

“she’ll be visiting tomorrow morning.” she says, smiling.

Simon already wants to turn back and lock himself in his chambers but he keeps walking around a pink flower bush, revealing himself to all four women. all halt in their tracks upon seeing him.

“oh!” Ann was the most startled. she was the first to curtsey. “your majesty.”

the rest followed. Simon tenses when you stepped forward. “you majesty.”

his palms are sweaty. he can’t think of a single thing to say when he looks at you. the words escape his grasp as much as his dignity. the fabric of his mask suddenly feels too itchy and he wants to rip it off.

“were we supposed to meet today?” you asked, handing the papers to Aimee. “forgive me, i was under the impression that you were otherwise preoccupied for the day.”

he pauses for a moment, trying to remember if he has things to do as far as Simon is aware, he’s free from any obligations for the entire day. all so he could spend the day with you. or rather, near you… as much as you’d allow it.

“apologies, my queen.” he dipped his head. “i was just passing through.”

“right. of course.” all the women bowed once more before the queen began to walk whilst the rest trailed after. you lift your dress an inch up to allow your legs to move with haste.

you only halt in your tracks when he inquires, “did you get my gift?”

it is very unlikely that you’ve even kept it. but a man dares to hold a sliver of hope. that you had kept something that he had given to you. that you’re not spiteful enough to cast it aside as he did with your precious gifts.

he waits, with baited breath, as you turn around. a measured expression painted across your beautiful face. you’re careful to choose your words.

“yes.” you declared cautiously, narrowing your eyes. “it was lovely. thank you, your majesty.”

you made your way back inside the castle without so much as giving him a chance to say more. although he aches to follow, Simon feels strangely satisfied when you march forward, your annoyance radiating through the very leaves of each branch in the entire garden.

Johnny, who’d been hiding behind a tree, steps out from behind it with a half eaten apple. he wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve and hums, brows furrowed as he watches you leave. “preoccupied?”

yes, Simon wonders about that bit too. “thought i cleared all meetings for the day.”

“aye, ye did.” Johnny agrees. “because ye wanted tae gawk at yer wife.”

little shit. Johnny’s hypocrisy is somewhat amusing. “as if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“oh, quite the contrary. if my wife looked as pretty as that–” Simon gives him a scathing glare. Johnny’s mouth snapped shut. “just sayin’.”

the king rolls his eyes and strides away before he can hear any more nonsense from his dear friend.

preoccupied, the word seemed… odd. you know his schedule, more so to work around it and do everything in your power to avoid him.

no matter. it’s probably just a misunderstanding on your part.

[Part 5] banners by @saradika and @vase-of-lilies

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do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked. [Main Masterlist]

Being Ghost’s Wife

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, mentions of sex

Notes: I’m literally so tired so all I could whip up was a hc today. The urge to nap with Simon is eating at my brain whEN IS IT MY TURN, also this image belongs to n was created by @ave661

a lot of your relationship was stunted at the start because as soon as he realized he actually loved you he shut you out

but then he got over himself 🙄 and proposed to you 3 months into dating

knows he’s overdue to be seriously injured or killed so he doesn’t want to wait

splurges on a ring the very next day

literally was more terrified to propose to you than he’d ever been for a mission

just randomly said it one night while you were making dinner and he was standing behind you h o v e r i n g

“marry me.” “huh? I mean, yes but Si-” “you’re my wife now.”

changes his contact name in your phone to ‘husband 🖤’ even though technically your still just engaged

the rest of the 141 only finds out by mistake when he forgot to turn his ringer off, you kept bombarding him with texts because you couldn’t figure out how to work the grill he bought you and soap saw about 20 missed messages from ‘wife 🤍’

somehow the whole base knows Lt riley is engaged by the end of the day (soap swears it wasn’t him)

the wedding was small, only your family and the 141 plus Laswell

took the whole ‘fuck on your wedding night’ thing very seriously 🤭

you live a cute little domestic life

after so long not knowing if he was going to live to see the next day, all Simon wants is just to have a little bubble of peace he can protect

uses all his military money that he never bothered with to buy you a big house with a wrap around porch

i fully believe this man will build a deck 🤠

within a year of you being married he already has you knocked up because he ‘doesn’t want to waste any time’