perfectly-m1saligned

[perfectly-m1saligned]

i love that when eren started the apocalypse the first thing reiner did was give up and go into a coma while surrounded by carbs. reiner we are the same

[perfectly-m1saligned]

Cowboys ; Reiner & Jean💕

[perfectly-m1saligned]

Desk - a Simon Riley x female!reader smut oneshot

A NSFW custom piece I wrote for @otto-s-alskling 🤍

“Come in.”

A knock on the door had snapped Simon out of his thoughts. His eyes met the red numbers on the clock that sat on his desk, which wasn’t hit by the remnants of sunlight outside the windows anymore. He realized how late it had gotten, the night now cloaking the base with its dark veil that aided sleep. He, too, should’ve been asleep, but he had been overworking himself with paperwork. A fresh set of rookies had arrived that week, and he had busy training the new batch. Paperwork wasn’t the only thing he hadn’t been giving enough attention to.

Zii slipped inside the office, her steps sly and feline, as if she was sneaking around doing something she shouldn’t; she was. She was wearing a black zip-up - his black zip-up - and a pair of grey leggings. Her hair was plaited in a neat braid, dark hair peeking out the hood still damp from her recent shower. Just thinking about her showering had Simon shifting in his chair.

“Zii,” he addressed her as casually as he could manage. “Why aren’t you in your quarters?”

“I could ask you the same question.” She countered, though her words lacked any challenge or malice. Her voice was laced with honey, settling to that soft purr that would always leave Simon breathless.

“I’m working.” He replied, opening his arms to point out the mess of papers and manila folds on the wooden surface. “What excuse do you have?”

She said nothing, taking off her hood and beginning to advance with calculated strides towards Simon. He swallowed, telling himself that the dryness in his throat was caused by the insufficient water intake and not by her presence. He was weak, and she knew it.

“I’m tired of you working.” She answered nonchalantly, coming to a halt as she stood behind him. Her hands slithered over his back before resting on his shoulders, gentle pads like scorching flames through the fabric of his black compression shirt.

“Zii…” Simon’s voice held a vague hint of a warning, but her name left his mouth as a hum of appreciation as her hands began to knead the thick muscles of his shoulders. He soon found himself tilting his head side to side, his eyelids growing heavy. He hadn’t realized how tired he truly was, how hard he had pushed himself. When Zii’s thumb pressed over a particularly stubborn knot, a groan bubbled up Simon’s throat, head lolling forward. She smiled.

“See?” She quipped. “You deserve a break.”

Simon was still feeling a bit dizzy from the massage, and his mind didn’t register Zii pulling back his chair to sneak under his desk, kneeling right between his parted thighs. It was the sound of his belt buckle coming undone that brought him back to reality.

“What are you–”

“Shh.” She held her index finger to her lips, which were curved into a devilish grin. “I want you to relax now.”

Experienced digits pulled down the zipper of his jeans, then the one of her hoodie. Simon’s breath caught when he saw the low-cut sports bra underneath, all the times he had buried his face between her beautiful breasts.

“I don’t think this is the appropriate time, or place, to be doing this, soldier.” He warned again in a hushed tone, but he sounded like he had absolutely no intention to even lift a damn finger to stop her.

Zii didn’t even bother to say anything back, letting her actions speak instead. With her fingers hooked around the waistband of his boxer briefs, she pulled them down, just enough to let his cock free. It was twitching faintly, clearly begging to be taken care of, and a bead of precum already decorated the tip.

“No matter how many times you say we shouldn’t do this, your body still reacts to me the same, Simon.”

He could only roll his eyes at her whispered quip, and it took some actual effort not to grab the back of her head and fill her mouth to shut her up; she would’ve probably liked it, anyway, and he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. He almost betrayed himself when her fingers started to curl around his length, one by one, until she was holding him whole. Her palm could only cover a little more than half of it. Her eyes stared up into his for a couple seconds, and Simon impatiently shifted his hips forward, earning a giggle from her. He knew she wasn’t mocking him.

Zii licked her lips once, twice, before she parted them and leaned forward, wrapping them around the head of his cock.

“Fuck.” Simon groaned. A hand went to cover his eyes as his head fell back, the other wrapping around the armrest of his chair. His fingers flexed as he held onto the plastic with a white-knuckled grip, and in his head, he started going through the motions of how to reload a rifle to prevent himself from cumming in her mouth too soon. Zii’s lips slid down, her warm mouth enveloping more of his sensitive length. Her hand started to move, too, gliding towards the tip or the base in tandem with her mouth.

“That’s a good girl.” The praise came out as a husky murmur, his left hand leaving the armrest to rest on the top of her head, feeling the slight dampness of her hair sticking to his palm. Then, he pushed her head down, gently, slowly preparing her throat inch by inch, letting her adjust her breathing.

“Through your nose, just like that,” he instructed. “I know you can take all of it.”

Zii’s appreciative moan reverberated against the sensitive flesh, and Simon’s chest began to rise and fall at a slightly quicker pace.

Knock, knock, knock.

Simon pushed himself back abruptly, springing out of her mouth with a sudden pop. Her tongue was left mid-air, the string of saliva that connected it to his cock snapping and letting a few drops of drool fall onto the floor.

“Who is it?” Simon called out, his eyes trained on the door as he held a hand in front of Zii in a silent order: “don’t make a sound”.

The door opened, Johnny’s head creeping into the small crack.

“Saw yer light’s still on.” He said. “Thought I was goin’ tae find ye passed out in that pile of shite.”

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, not even trying to hide his annoyance at the sight of the Scot. Way to cockblock, Johnny.

“Do you have anything actually worth my time, or did you get bored counting sheeps in bed, Johnny?” He asked flatly. His lips were pressed together firmly, teeth sinking down into the delicate muscle of his tongue as he felt Zii’s circling his tip, feather-light and almost imperceptible. Simon coughed as Johnny opened his mouth to answer, and the brows framing his lively cerulean eyes quirked up in a questioning look.

“Y’alright?” He asked, letting the door fall open a bit more to take a step inside. Simon coughed again, shaking his head. Zii’s fingers were toying with his balls now, her pads rolling them in a torturously slow and teasing motion.

“I think I might be coming down with something.” He lied through gritted teeth, his chest puffing out with a deep inhale, suffocating the groan that threatened to build in his chest.

“Oh, ew.” Johnny immediately stepped back. “Stay away from me then, mate.”

Once the door was closed again, Simon’s hands grabbed the edge of the desk, glaring down at Zii. She returned the look, doe-eyed and innocent, when she was anything but.

“You fucking brat.”

Her mouth could only produce a choked, muffled sound as it was filled with his cock once again. She inhaled sharply through her nose, squeezing her eyes shut as she focused on relaxing her throat. Simon’s hands were both cupping her head, moving it up and down his shaft at a punishing pace. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, but didn’t protest, her fingers digging into his knees only to keep balance. He released himself from her mouth, and watched her breathing in big gulps of air.

“Is that what you wanted, hm?” He taunted, sounding slightly breathless after fucking her face like that. “Perhaps I should’ve let Johnny see me slamming my cock into your mouth. Show him how much of a desperate slut you are.”

Zii was still catching her breath, but she was sporting the same infuriatingly attractive grin. When Simon moved with his chair to the side, she crawled out from under the desk, dusting herself off as she rose to her feet.

“You could’ve,” she shrugged. “But you never would’ve. You hate to admit it…but you’re jealous.” She had leaned forward to talk to him, lips curled in that cheshire smile he wanted to wipe off so bad.

Simon’s hand was quick, wrapping around her wrist as he yanked her forward. Zii stumbled, but he shot up from his seat. He put her arm behind her back, his free hand going to her shoulder to bend her over until her chest was pressed against the desk, face buried in the papers he didn’t bother to move.

“You’re right, I never would’ve.”

Simon kept her arm behind her back in a firm hold, yet loose enough not to hurt her. He pushed his pants down to the floor along with his boxers. Zii’s ass was perked up, and he couldn’t help but slide his dick along her clothed cheeks, humming at the friction.

“Because no one deserves this sight but me.”

He landed a sharp slap, making her recoil from the impact with a quiet yelp. He let go of her arm, confident that she wasn’t going to go anywhere, and slowly started to slide down her leggings, the fabric giving way to soft skin. As he bared her ass, he noticed with a proud grin that his hand had left a red print, but he still ran a soothing caress over it.

“Fuck, look at you.” He purred, leaning to the side to take a look at the wet spot on her panties. Simon took himself in his hand, aligning his head to her veiled heat and rubbing it along the outline of her folds.

“Si…” she whined, wiggling her butt to seek more friction, but he silenced her plea with another smack, the red print of his hand blooming immediately on the abused skin.

“You think you’re in any position to make demands, soldier?” He inquired, his tone holding a dangerous edge. He bent over until his lips hovered over the shell of her ear, bringing his voice to a whisper. “Now you better not make a sound, unless you want the whole base to hear how hard you like to get fucked by your Lieutenant?”

Zii gulped loudly, her mouth shut. Simon smirked, straightening his spine. He toyed with her panties, sliding a finger beneath the fabric and running it up and down, collecting the slick with his knuckle. He could hear her impatient little whines, the subtle jolts of her body, thrumming with anticipation. As much as he would’ve wanted to slam inside her with no mercy, he knew that making her wait it out was a more than fair punishment. With that same finger, he moved her panties to the side, watching the string of wetness follow the cotton as it revealed her drenched pussy.

“Lick these.” He ordered, bringing his index and middle finger to her mouth. Zii obeyed eagerly, wrapping her lips around them and hollowing her cheeks as she sucked them in. Simon soon felt the warmth of her saliva coating his long digits. Once he deemed them properly wet, he slipped them out, just to insert them in her hole. Zii gasped, her gummy walls clenching as if to draw him in deeper. Her forehead rested against the desk, her hands gripping the edge above her head.

“Simon…” she moaned quietly as he fingered her slowly, easing her for later. “Please…please, I need you.”

He stopped for a moment, as if considering her words. His cock had been throbbing uncontrollably the whole time, begging to be buried deep into her little tight hole. He took his fingers out, using her juices to coat the tip. Then he spat on his hand and stroked himself a couple times for extra lubrication– not that he needed any, since her pussy was practically weeping. He lined himself with her entrance, and all of his restraint crumbled as the first inch slid inside. He couldn’t resist anymore. With a single thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. Zii almost cried out loudly, but Simon’s hand was faster, clamping it over her mouth. He pressed his chest to her back, enveloping her whole body with his. He propped his other forearm on the desk for leverage, his face in her hair as he groaned.

“God…damn, Zii, you’re so fucking tight.” He murmured, his hips beginning to move, slow at first. He could hear her hot breath against his palm, growing labored and erratic, heartbeat skyrocketing, mirroring his own. Simon couldn’t hold on much longer, ramming into her at a faster pace, his climax approaching at an alarming speed. He grunted, both from pleasure and annoyance, refusing to cum so soon, or before she did. He kept a hand over her mouth, the other slithering between her legs, fingertips locating her clit with ease. Zii’s wailing was starting to become too loud, but at this point, he couldn’t care any less if everyone woke up to the sound of her cumming all over his cock.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close.” He goaded, circling her clit to coax out her orgasm. She was holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life, not forming a single coherent sentence, even slurring his name when she called it out. Simon felt her legs trembling, so he slipped his other arm under her stomach to hold her up. When her climax hit, she bit into the sleeve of her hoodie, a moan erupting from deep within her chest as her whole body was hit by the wave of euphoria. Her walls clenched and spasmed, milking every single drop of his cum as he met her with his own release, shooting thick ropes inside of her.

Both his arms came to wrap around her, gentle, avoiding to crush her under his weight. For a minute, the only sound filling the office was that of their breathing as they both tried to regulate their heart rate. With a huff, Simon eventually found the strength to unsheath himself from inside her, only to collapse back into his chair. Zii was still bent over his desk, and he admired his cum leaking out of her tired hole with a lazy yet proud smirk. She looked back at him over her shoulder, cheeks flushed with afterglow. She was worn out, but a satisfied glint gleamed in her eyes.

“I guess you were right, after all,” he murmured. “I really needed that break.”

• this is an original work, do not copy/translate/repost without credits to this or other platforms•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober 14/15

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 14: face sitting. Day 15: overstimulation; begging. You can find all my stories on my Wattpas as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Boyfriend!Simon)

cw: loser Simon is obsessed with you, oral (f receiving) (a lot), multiple orgams

word count: 2053

a/n:  I am very sorry about skipping some days, but i'm already as late as it is with updating, and the prompts don't really align with my style T-T

It had been a petty fight, really, a stupid disagreement over an even more stupid thing, but the fact that it had happened right before Simon left for his mission had been even more painful. He didn’t apologise, didn’t hold you that night, making you feel so alone, and left in the early morning without a word. Simon wasn’t good with feelings and confrontation, and he had felt like a downright bastard to leave like that, and guilt had eaten at him during the whole mission.

The only thing that kept him alive was the ardent desire to come back home to you, apologise for his dumb, childish actions, to hold you, and tell you that he loved you, to ask for your forgiveness, and worship you like the goddess you were. He had always been a goner for you, his walls crumbling beneath a touch of your hand, a warm caress, able to melt the ice that encased his poor heart.

The moment he was back at base, he asked Kyle to drive him home, reluctantly accepting his unceasing teasing as he told him to stop by a flower shop, asking for a bouquet of wildflowers, so big he had to stack it in the backseat with his duffle bag. It would’ve been a thousand times worse if he had asked Johnny, and he probably would’ve strangled the cheeky git before he was able to get him home.

You’d had three whole weeks to ruminate over the fight, over-analysing every single word spoken, every little detail of his body language, paranoia setting its roots so deep within the darkest confines of your mind, you had simply convinced yourself he was going to break up with you when he would come back.

It did, in fact, come as a surprise when you opened the door and his whole face was hidden behind a gigantic bouquet of colourful wildflowers, his big brown eyes peeking above the petals, looking down at you like a kicked puppy. It was always endearing to see your 6’4” beast of a man boyfriend acting like a little kid around you.

“Simon-” you whispered, your lips parted in a small ‘o’ as he simply stood there, your heart feeling like it was going to burst at any moment. You gently accepted the flowers, seeing how his arms limply went to his sides, awkwardly lingering by the door. “Oh, I am so glad you’re okay.”

The relief of seeing him alive and well was greater than whatever petty grudge you held, the arm that wasn’t holding the flowers wrapping around his midriff, and you buried your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent. “y/n…” he murmured, his nose in your hair as his arms came to encircle your waist, holding you impossibly close to him. “I am so sorry, so, so fucking sorry. I was an idiot, i didn’t even say goodbye-”

“Shhh, shh, don’t.” You mumbled into his chest, shaking your head. You pulled away, your hand grabbing at the hem of his shirt, gently tugging at it as you led him inside the house. Your small apartment that overlooked the city, your little slice of heaven that held so many memories, some good some bad, but it was filled with love all the same. He gently waddled after you, closing the door behind himself and following you into the living room. You put the bouquet on the table, then beckoned Simon to sit on the couch.

He obeyed immediately, silently sitting down onto the plush cushion. You walked right in between his spread thighs, feeling his hands coming up the side of your thighs, settling on your hips. “I missed you,” he whispered, resting his chin against your stomach, looking up at you with his deep brown eyes. “I felt terrible this whole time, I just wanted to come home and…apologise to you properly.”

Your heart felt a hundred times lighter now, the weeks of paranoia slipping away as he looked genuinely sorry. You let your fingers run through the messy blonde locks. “You’re okay,” I said just as softly. “We were both idiots, I recognise that now. That fight shouldn’t have happened in the first place. So I should apologise, too.” Simon shook his head, burying his face into your stomach, a sound similar to a purr rumbling in his throat, reverberating against your tummy. “It was my fault, y/n. I left without even saying goodbye, you…you probably hated me for the past three weeks.” - Well, he wasn’t wrong. - “But I should’ve never given you a reason to doubt me, or to resent me. Please, y/n, let me make it up to you.”

He looked so eager, clinging onto you with that expectant look in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to be granted your forgiveness, the only thing that mattered to him. “Please.” He whispered again. “Please what?” You asked, gently tugging at his hair, forcing him to look up at you. “Let me touch you, baby. Please,” he pleaded, already sounding breathless. “You felt bad because of me, now I need to make you feel good, it’s…it’s the least I can do.” He started to trace a trail down your stomach with the tip of his nose, stopping just an inch shy of the waistband of your sweatpants, sighing against the fabric of your t-shirt. “Can I?”

When Simon acted desperate, it was the hottest thing ever, turning you on in a way nothing else could. It made you feel love, worshipped, because in his eyes, you were his one and only goddess. “Oh, Simon..” you cooed, and he looked up at you with a hopeful smile. “...you think you deserve it?”

He groaned, his hands balling up into fists around your pants, only bunching up the fabric. “B-Baby…fuck…” he breathed out, looking helpless. “Don’t do this to me, I need you. Need to feel you-” You moved his hand away when he started to let it creep under your t-shirt. “You look pathetic. You think I’ll just forgive you like that?” You asked, giving his hair a quick, sharp tug. He hissed, but the noise that left his chest sounded more like a moan. You had already forgiven him the moment he saw him carrying the flowers, but he loved being submissive for you as much as you loved holding this kind of control over him.

“y/n, I’m begging you, seriously, I-” He released a shaky breath, hands trembling as he kept himself from tearing the pants off you. “Please, I’ve missed you so fucking much. These weeks away from you were torture, please. I just…just a taste, I’m begging.” He could feel your arousal wafting up to his nose, and he inhaled deeply, relishing in your sweet scent. “Just a taste, I-I need you, I need you so fucking much.”

He was already painfully hard, his erection straining in his cargo pants, cock throbbing and oozing precum onto his boxer briefs. He could’ve come just by your rejection alone, getting so restless and overwhelmed he could’ve made a mess on his own, without you even touching him. And that, was just the hottest fucking thing ever. The way he would bend at your will, growing desperate for you, for just a crumb of your attention, for all he wanted was to make you feel good.

“Fine,” you eventually relented, feigning annoyance, when you were actually just as eager as he was. His eyes lit up, and he wasted no time, starting to pepper kisses over your stomach, his fingers already tugging at your pants, sliding them down, along with your damp panties. He growled at the sight of the wet spot on the fabric, his mouth starting to salivate upon seeing the slick that covered your folds, as if already tasting it. “Come here,” he whispered huskily, ignoring your perplexed expression as he took your hand and guided you to the other side of the couch. Only then you realised he was moving with you, coming to lay down over the cushions, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “Please, y/n,” he begged again. “I need to taste you.”

Sitting on his face always felt weird, the improbable thought of accidentally suffocating him always lurking in the back of your mind, arising some scepticism in you every time. But then you remembered he probably wouldn’t be asking if he wasn��t built like a fucking unit. Peeling your t-shirt off as well, Simon simply admired you in awe, your body the most ethereal and precious thing he had ever laid his eyes - and hands - on.

He patiently waited there, looking like a kid on Christmas morning the moment you put your legs on either side of his head, caging his face between your thighs. “Is this-” you couldn’t even get the words out that his hands were on your hips, bringing you down until you were fully sat on his face. A guttural groan reverberated right through you as his lips latched onto your weeping cunt. A flick of his tongue between your folds coaxed a loud moan, your back arching as your eyes rolled into your skull.

“S-Simon-” you whimpered, a hand curled around the backrest of the couch, the other tangled in his messy hair. He looked like he was having a bloody good time, feasting on you like a man starved. He hadn’t seen you or heard from you for three whole weeks, and this time away from you, knowing you were upset because of him, made him realise just how much he truly loved you.

“Mhm,” he hummed against you. “Let me make you feel good.” His nose pushed against your hooded clit, stealing a sweet moan from you, his hands caressing the plane of your stomach, your hips, the curve of your ass. “Fuck…that’s so…f-fuck, so good-”

His tongue teased your entrance, before insertion itself inside of you, a loud groan of pleasure filling the room as you came undone from that alone, the orgasm rippling throughout you with an unexpected force, your thighs violently shaking. You feared you could accidentally crush him, but you coming only seemed to spur him on, since he didn’t let go of you as his name fell from your lips in a string of breathless pleas, his relentless tongue lapping up at your arousal, letting the juices from your cunt coat his whole face.

“N-No…too much, Si…too much!” You cried out softly, trying to lift your hips away, but his strong hands kept you still, long fingers digging into the supple flesh of your thighs. “We’re done when I say I’m done, y/n.” He suddenly growled, the rumble in his throat sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. It was overwhelming, really, the overstimulation robbing you of the ability to string a sentence, or even forming a coherent thought, only moans and babbling noises escaping your mouth as you braced yourself to the backrest of the couch.

Heat pooled in your belly even faster this time, Simon’s tongue circling your clit, placing open mouthed kisses along your pretty pussy, drinking your juices like it was his last meal. Another orgasm hit, the second wave somehow more intense than the first, your entire body quaking as the raw pleasure coursed through you, screaming his name, tugging at his hair, tear-brimmed eyes squeezed shut. By the time you had rode out your high, you were having a hard time remembering your name, trying to bring your heartbeat back to a normal level, chest heaving, leg still shaky.

Simon was extra careful when he felt you almost giving out from above, manoeuvring you so he could slip from underneath you, chuckling softly as you curled up in a ball onto the cushion, your body twitching ever so often as it recovered. He simply looked at you for a while, chest swelling with pride, knowing he had made you feel this good.

Gently, he picked you up, your body pliable in his arms as he effortlessly carried you towards the bedroom, gently putting you down on the bed and tucking you in. You were almost letting the drowsiness take over. “Where are you going?” You mumbled groggily looking at him with half-lidded eyes. He simply smiled.

“Takin’ a shower, love,” he whispered, hovering over you to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming back to give you the rest when I’m done.” 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober 11

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 11: public sex; choking. You can find all my stories on my Wattpas as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Bodyguard!Simon)

cw: tight space, public sex, foreplay, protections are used (surprisingly)

word count: 2377

"For fuck's sake, y/n, your closet is flooding with clothes, why would you want to go shopping?"

Simon sipped his tea by the kitchen counter, brow furrowed in a grumpy expression, arms folded over his broad chest, biceps bulging under the tight black long-sleeve. "Because you're keeping me trapped in here!" You whined, only your stretched out legs visible as you sat upside-down on the couch, your bare feet hanging in the air. "And Daddy has a big event or something coming up, so I need to find something cute-"

"Spare me the bullshit," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "We can go, but you're wearing the vest. And if I see something that I don't like, we're leaving. Got it?" You were already up and sprinting up the stairs the moment he said "we can go". You were the daughter of a renowned politician, but being the controversial figure your father was, his family - namely, you - was always in the target of ill-intentioned people.

So that's when Simon Riley had come in, four months ago, a grumpy-looking beast, standing at 6'4" and probably 250+ lbs heavy, he was the perfect man for the job, since he had served for many years in the SAS, and had made a name for himself in the underbelly of the Special Forces, under the alias of Ghost, a trained killer, member of an anti-terrorism task force. Apparently, he had lost one of his closest comrades, and his Captain had taken out a general, so he retired, taking on some security gigs like this.

He was insufferable, paranoid, always on alert, even in the house. He was up your ass whenever you had to attend some formal events, and you were too embarrassed to show yourself in a normal social setting or even hang out with your friends, because his mere presence was anything but normal. But a golden cage is still a cage, and staying inside your property had become too suffocating. Plus, he must've been allergic to fun, because he had strictly rejected all your attempts at seducing him; you had some needs too, after all, and a beast of a man like him was bound to get your panties in a twist, or wet.

The vest looked ugly and made you look fat, so you had to hide it under a sweater, much to your dismay, but at least he had agreed on spending some time away from the house, so the least you could do was conforming to his obnoxious rules.

"Here," you said as you handed Simon yet another bag full of clothes, then proceeding to strut out of the boutique. It was comical, seeing him carrying all your girly shopping bags, though the way he did so effortlessly was rather hot; not surprising for someone who looked like he could snap a man's neck like a twig. "Isn't your father going to be mad when he checks his bank account?" Simon grumbled, lips curled in a displeased frown, peering down at you, your brattiness oozing from every pore, the way your ass moved side to side in those tight jeans-

"Daddy is happy as long as I'm happy," you said, shrugging your shoulders carelessly, snapping him out of his very unprofessional thoughts. Simon looked up ahead, impassive. "And spending his money makes me happy." He hummed in response, not disclosing his thoughts about your father's parenting skills - or lack thereof. He saw you suddenly veering to the right, making a beeline for yet another store. He eyed the mannequins on the display windows, and his blood froze at the sight of the lingerie.

Be strong, Simon. He mentally reprimanded himself, reluctantly following behind you. The amount of lace, rhinestones and whatever small gadgets they equipped lingerie with was truly confusing to Simon, yet he had to angle the shopping bags to hide the embarrassing hard-on that was growing in his jeans, simply at the thought of you in one of those little sets. And also at how you'd look at him, with your pretty cheeks flushed, and his teeth tearing the lace that would barely cover your sweet little cunt, before he would feast on you like a damn animal.

"Okay, I'm trying these on!" You chirped, your hands full of bras and panties in different shades, waddling like a kid towards the changing rooms. Simon had chosen a quiet hour, so the mall was mostly empty, and it was a monday, so all the workers were very much not in the mood to work. He stood by, as close as it seemed appropriate for him to be, watching the shadow of your feet move around, your jeans soon pooling to the floor.

Simon had dropped your bags on the floor by his feet, so he had to awkwardly stand with his hands folded in front of his crotch, his cock throbbing painfully hard, straining against his boxer briefs. How had he let this happen? When had he become this weak, turning into some caveman whenever he saw the daughter of his employer? Daughter who, by the way, he couldn't stand. You were bratty, selfish, entitled, and you never listened to him, you always had to fight him on everything, your stubbornness threatening to make him blow a fuse on more than one occasion.

But then you would look at him with those big doe eyes, perhaps in the middle of the night when you asked him what he was still doing awake, sitting on the couch, going through old documents, reliving Soap's death as if it was yesterday. He couldn't possibly tell you, but seeing you in those little pyjama sets you wore sometimes helped to take his mind off the painful memories of the past. And it would always end up in the same way, angrily fisting his cock under the shower until he pathetically came in his hand, hoping it was your mouth instead, or your pussy. He hated being this weak for you, but he somehow couldn't get you out of his head, and your little attempts at seducing him were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

"Simon?" Your soft voice called from behind the curtain, before your head peeked out. "I'm having some...technical difficulties." He mentally cursed himself, gathering all of his will to stay strong, and hoping you wouldn't notice his erection as he sauntered over to you. When he closed the curtain behind himself, the small space was soon crowded by his large frame alone.

Fucking hell, you were beautiful. The baby pink corset hugged your torso like a glove, making the top of your breasts almost spill from its confines. You were also wearing the smallest little matching thong, the string cutting between your plump, round asscheeks. "Sorry for the indiscretion, princess, but who the fuck is supposed to see you wearing this?" He asked, his low baritone holding a dangerous edge to it, eyes burning into you through the reflection of the mirror.

"I don't know," you rolled your eyes. "Can't I buy something nice for myself? Plus, this is not why I called you here. Can you help me untie the corset? I made a really strange knot and I can't get it out." You huffed, reaching behind your back with your hands. You gasped when Simon encircled both your wrists with one large hand, keeping them secured behind your back.

"Answer me, princess," he growled in your ear, hunching until his head was level with yours, basically cheek to cheek, as he kept you pinned on the spot, looking at you in the mirror. "Who do you think will see you wearing this?" You bit down on your bottom lip, feeling the heat pooling down in your belly, your stomach doing flips as he pressed into you from behind, his very evident erection nestling itself against the curve of your ass. So now it was your time to play.

"You?" You asked coyly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you held his gaze. "Right answer, good girl." He said, lips curling into a wolfish grin. You gasped quietly when his hand encircled your neck, calloused fingers pressing down on the sides of your throat, your cheeks immediately growing a couple shades of pink darker.

"You think I hadn't noticed, hm?" He whispered, tracing the outline of your ear with his nose. "When you tried to seduce me, playing coy with me, wearing those tight clothes around the house when your father is out? Basically begging me with those big, sweet eyes of yours for me to bend you over the nearest flat surface and fuck you until you pass out?" His other hand had snaked between your thighs, feeling your juices already soaking the fabric. He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Tsk, tsk, y/n, you know we have to buy this now that you got these all wet, like some desperate slut? What is the worker going to think when she sees these little panties all soaked, hm?"

You couldn't answer, another gasp of pleasure being stolen by his long fingers collecting some of the slick between your folds, sliding the fabric to the side. A moan threatened to leave your mouth, but Simon's hand squeezed your neck as a warning. "If you make a sound, they'll hear, and our little game ends. I'm sure you don't want me to stop now, do you?" His hot breath fanned against the back of your head, nuzzling his nose into your hair, taking in your sweet, sweet scent. You simply nodded your head violently, teeth sinking into the plump flesh of your bottom lip, trying your best to keep quiet.

You winced when he slid two long fingers inside your hole, making scissoring motions against your walls to stretch you; you would need it to accommodate him. He kept his other hand wrapped around your throat, your cheeks a bright pink colour as he toyed with your oxygen intake, applying different levels of pressure against your airflow, but never to the point of actually choking you, or giving you pain. It was quite the opposite, actually, the dizziness of your constricted airflow, combined with the overwhelming pleasure his fingers were giving you was probably the most confusing yet best feeling ever. The sounds coming from your pussy were obscene, your juices coating his long, calloused digits, and you were doing your best to keep quiet, releasing the softest breathy moans and gasps.

"Good, you're doing so good, y/n," Simon murmured, a wicked glint in his eyes as he met your gaze in the mirror. "Let's see if you can keep quiet with the real thing." Your eyes widened, his movements quick and agile as he grabbed a condom from his wallet, keeping the wrapper between his lips as he worked with the buckle of his belt. With your hands still behind your back, you helped him with getting his jeans off. "You just go around with condoms in your wallet?" You quipped, pulling down the zipper as quietly as possible. "Do you want to go back home with my cum leaking down that pretty pussy of yours and make a mess everywhere?" Touché.

When you felt the tip of his cock ticling your needy entrance, you couldn't help but wiggle your hips, showing your impatience, earning a low, mocking chuckle from him. You wish you never did. As he slowly inserted himself, the burn from the stretch was eliciting the most animalistic sounds from you, but you couldn't act on any of them, suddenly remembering that you were, in fact, inside a changing room, and you were surprised no worker had still come to ask what you were doing in there for so long. You just hoped their laziness would last just a little longer.

Simon was currently feeling like he was in heaven, feeling your gummy walls clenching around him like a loving embrace, or like a snake encircling its prey, he was sure he had never felt anything better than this. And he was wearing a condom. The thought of having you again back at home, and many other times after that, without one, almost had him coming on the spot, but he tried to name the names of UK football teams in alphabetical order, and he calmed down.

You were a squirming mess by the time he bottomed out inside of you, the firm hand around your neck keeping the right amount of pressure to not let any unwanted sound slip, only allowing choked gasps of pleasure as he started to move his hips. He couldn't even fuck you properly, or the sound of skin slapping against skin would've certainly given away what was happening in the small cubicle. So he just settled for slow, deep strokes, nose buried in your hair as he bent you over, your hands on the wall to brace yourself. His free hand came to your front, stimulating your aching clit again with his thumb, making your eyes roll back into your skull.

The forbidden nature of your affair, the fear of being discovered, and maybe even the slight lack of oxygen to your brain, it all gave you an unfamiliar rush, a surge of adrenaline you'd never felt before, and you had also never been this turned on before. The heat coiling in your stomach soon reached its peak, a wave of euphoria rippling through your body as you almost clawed at the wall, biting down on your forearm, hard, to keep the noises building in your throat from coming out of your mouth.

Feeling you coming undone around him had to be the best thing to ever happen to him, feeling your sweet walls clenching, as if to keep him trapped inside of you, and he totally wouldn't have minded that. With one last stroke, he felt himself crumble as well, hips stuttering as he filled up the condom, a growl rumbling so low in his chest it revertìberated through your very own bones.

Your legs felt like jelly, needing to take a very deep breath the moment Simon unsheathed himself, and his hand fell from your neck. "I'll be waiting for you outside," he stated, his voice impassive as he pulled up his jeans, looking not even a fraction as flushed as you. "I really can't wait to see how you're going to explain that to the cashier." 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

(Late) K!nktober 10

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 10: mirror sex; orgasm denial. You can find all my stories on my Wattpas as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Situationship!Simon) (Jealous!Simon)

cw: oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, orgasm denial

word count: 3100

a/n: situationship Simon you will always be famous.

Feelings. Something complicated and, according to Simon, unnecessary. Love only served to get you hurt in the end, and he had lost too many people already. So he found you, and you were the same as him: level-headed, no-nonsense, determined and with no time for bullshit. You both had your jobs to do, so when it became too much to handle in a healthy way, one of you called, and the other answered.

It was right what you needed, a man who fucked you good but still knew his place. Sometimes he'd send you the money to cover your uber, or he'd let you spend the night if the weather was too nasty; he would sleep on the couch, anyway. Then, in the morning, he was gone for work, some tea ready to be warmed up and a slice of toast. Not much, he wasn't one for fancy shit anyways, but he did have manners, so he would at least do the bare minimum to not look like a total dick. It wasn't a matter of feelings, just mutual respect, since you were both sticking to an arrangement.

Feelings. They were just a distraction, creating thoughts that polluted the brain, causing jealousy to rear its ugly head at the back of the mind. He shouldn't have cared about you, not the way he was starting to, anyway. He should've ended things the moment he had the twisted idea to sleep in bed with you one night, but luckily he had refrained from doing so; you wouldn't have let him, anyway.

You didn't know he was back from a mission, it wasn't like he had to tell you, anyway. He didn't know you had another date planned for that night, it wasn't like you had to tell him, anyway. You had expected the twat to at least take you to a restaurant, not some mucky pub downtown that kept mouldy eggs in brine on the counter, which was probably covered in a whole inch of dust and dirt. You probably should've thought about it twice before you accepted to go out with a guy who "would've been a great rockstar, had he not broken his wrist when he was 17". You could still hope in free drinks, although hardly.

Simon nursed a glass of whiskey between his fingers, neat, as he sat at one of the tables on the far end of the pub. He felt the faint chime of the bell from the front door over the music and the conversation, but he didn't bother to look behind him. Until he heard your voice.

"An espresso martini, if you even know how to make one." He could recognise that snarky tone anywhere, your voice dripping with contempt as you placed your order at the bar. He could picture your face clearly, as if you were standing before him: a couple wrinkles furrowing your forehead, eyes squinted as you curled your nose, your lips tugged in a saccharine smile that looked more like a grimace. What the hell were you doing here?

Sure enough, as he stole a glance from over his shoulder, he saw the saddest, most pathetic excuse of a man standing next to you, in his leather jacket and poorly-styled hair, probably with some cheap, tacky gel that would only stain your pillows. Who was he kidding, you were not going to let that man get close to the heaven that stood between your thighs even if he was the last human being on earth. It was a simple fact, really, totally not dictated by the surge of inexplicable anger that mounted in his stomach when he saw the guy put a hand on the small of your back, leading you to one of the booths that lined the wall that overlooked the street.

He was saying something about his boring desk job somewhere you didn't remember, or cared enough to remember, and the guy at the bar was taking forever to bring you your drinks, so you excused yourself for the loo. You groaned as you splashed some water over your face, trying to keep yourself from falling asleep at the table.

"It's cute, you know?" A voice called from behind you. "Seeing your stupid attempts at liking that guy." You got startled, slamming the tap closed as you whipped your head around, your eyes colliding with Simon's. Fucking bastard, scaring you like that. "Fuck off," you said breathlessly, bringing a hand over your poor heart. "Scaring the shit out of me like this, seriously?"

"You're coming home with me." He simply announced, seemingly unfazed by your near-death experience. "What?" You asked, an incredulous expression on your face. "Can't you see I'm on a date?" You added, pointing your thumb to the side, in the general direction of where the guy could've been behind the wall. "Yeah, and I don't like your date." He deadpanned in response. You propped your hands on your hips, shifting your weight on one foot. "I didn't ask for your opinion, thank you very much." You couldn't hide the annoyance in your voice. "Besides, we agreed we could've seen other people, right? So I'm seeing someone else."

Right, and that had been the stupidest decision he'd ever agreed to. He knew he wouldn't have had any problems finding someone else, but he didn't want anyone else. You were perfect, of course, when your "strictly professional arrangement" was concerned. Plus, your body was great, and he could've fucked you for hours on end, so he didn't feel the need to go with any other woman. Why did you want to see other men?

"At least choose someone who's presentable, y/n," he scoffed with contempt. "Look at you, you wore a 70 quids-worth dress to be brought to a pub that has cockroaches that probably shit in the glasses." You fought back a gag at the image conjured by his last statement. "So, come home with me. I came back from my mission earlier this afternoon, I would've called anyway."

You didn't want to admit that he was right, that the guy waiting for you out there didn't deserve you, and you totally were not ready to tell yourself that you were just looking for someone to fill the void when Simon was away. "Fine."

You had never snuck away from a date, but it wasn't so hard since the bloke was too focused on searching for other girls on Tinder - according to Simon - so your escape went smoothly. Back at Simon's place, he opened a bottle of wine and poured you a glass, since you couldn't enjoy a drink at the pub. You hung your coat over the backrest of the sofa, slipping off your boots and walking to the kitchen, the cold from the tiled floor seeping through the thin fabric of your tights. Simon saw you sauntering over, his eyes raking over your body, that short dress you were wearing, those black tights, and he already knew he was going to rip them to shreds.

"How did you even meet the guy?" He asked, trying to sound very nonchalant about it, totally not showing any crack in his rock-solid walls. "Came to the café a couple days ago after his morning run, he asked for my number, I had no reason to not give it to him." You explained casually, taking a sip of the ruby liquid, leaving a pleasant burn on its path down your throat. "But you are correct, sadly. It wasn't how I had imagined the date to go."

Simon was leaning on his elbows over the counter, raising a blonde eyebrow at your words. "No?" He asked, and you groaned. "I meant the guy, not you, idiot." He huffed a soft laugh through his nose. "And by the way, you sound oddly possessive." Possessive? Simon made his way around the small island of the kitchen, coming to stand behind you. "I wouldn't say possessive," he mused gruffly. He took your hair and moved it over your shoulder, then started to slowly pull the zipper of your dress down, his knuckles sliding over the smooth skin of your back. "I'd say I simply care about you."

You stiffened at his words, his movements stilling as well. He had not just said that out loud, had he? "When it comes to our arrangement, of course," he tried to fix his slip-up. "And I think there's nothing wrong with admitting that you are a pleasant person to be around, when you want to, of course." The damage had most probably already been done, but another thing Simon admired about you was your class. You'd read the room perfectly, and acted accordingly. "Precisely," you simply replied, your back arching as an invitation for Simon to continue unzipping your dress. "I admit I'd feel a little awkward if I knew the other girls you hang around with were of...lesser quality." He smiled, humming in acknowledgement, resuming his previous actions.

He slid a sleeve past your shoulder, his warm lips placing a kiss on the exposed skin, in the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. His touch was so intimate, so full of passion, that it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it was just Simon's style, being passionate, making his lover feel as comfortable as possible, to ensure a nice experience for both parties.

"Did you see any other men while I was away?" He murmured against your skin, his nose tracing the side of your throat. The wine was getting to your head, drinking slowly but surely, and not having eaten any dinner sure helped the fog to arise faster. "Simon, why are you asking-"

"Answer me, y/n." He growled now, sliding the other sleeve down your arm. Your dress met no resistance as it pooled down on the floor at your feet. "Because you're not wearing any bra-" his hands slid up the line of your waist, before cupping your round breasts, "-and thinking that the little worm would've gotten the chance to see this makes me feel nauseous." A gasp was stolen from you when he started to roll your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, still peppering kisses across your flushed flesh. "No, I-" you bit your lip, stifling a moan. "I n-never, no."

He hummed, seemingly pleased by your answer. "Good, because I am the only one who is allowed to ruin you, y/n." With that, Simon turned you around and picked you up effortlessly, securing his hands under your legs, walking to his room. He unceremoniously tossed you onto the bed, following right after, climbing on top of you. "So you are jealous," you quipped, nibbling on his earlobe, a smirk in your voice. "Territorial," Simon corrected, his hands tracing the contours of your body, coming to rest on your hips. "Also, I know I'm the only one that can fuck you this good, so I don't see why you should try to unsuccessfully find another man that can satisfy you."

A loud ripping sound broke through the charged silence between you, your tights breaking apart like butter as he tore them, causing you to gasp. You were going to be cold in the morning. His knuckle started to rub over your clothed cunt, feeling the dampness seeping through the fabric of your panties. He smirked. "And you don't seem to mind it, do you?" He asked. Tongue pulled lip, encasing it between your teeth as you looked up at him, skin tingling with anticipation.

"You just love being right, huh, Lieutenant?" You retorted, pulling his rank to add in to the mocking. He simply chuckled. "Yeah, let's see if you'll still be this cheeky in a couple minutes." He murmured against your ear, his baritone voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Keeping his hands on your hips, he descended until he was level with his personal heaven - or hell, depending on the situation - and hooked his thumb under the fabric of your panties, bunching them to the side. He inhaled a nice whiff of your scent, and he started salivating like a man starved. With his other hand, he collected the slick between your folds, before sliding it inside of you, meeting no resistance as he entered your weeping hole. "Si-" His name left your lips in a breathless moan, back arching away from the mattress and into his touch. "That's right," he murmured, placing a small, quick kiss on your clit. "Say the name of the only guy that can make you feel like this."

Obscene sounds came from your cunt as he pumped his fingers inside you, tongue lapping at your juices greedily, circling your sensitive clit, his low moans sending delicious vibrations up your spine, driving you closer and closer to your release. "Simon...fuck, just like that...just like that-" You weren't able to finish the sentence, a groan of frustration being evoked from your chest as Simon pulled away all together, leaving you in the most uncomfortable and annoying limbo ever. "What the fuck!?" You grunted, propping yourself up on your elbows, pinning him with the deadliest glare known to man, only to see him sporting a shit-eating grin, looking quite proud of himself.

"I hope this serves as a lesson, y/n," he said calmly, unfazed by your reaction. "You can't blame me for holding a little grudge, plus I think you need to be punished, just for choosing to go on a date with that rat." You huffed, biting the inside of your cheek so hard you were sure you were going to draw blood. "Fuck this, I'm leaving if you're going to be such a cunt about it." You said, starting to get up from the bed, but you were soon yanked back onto it.

"You don't fucking get to leave, not until I fucking say so." Simon growled in your ear, manoeuvring you on all fours, his large hand keeping your chest pinned to the mattress. You didn't even try to fight him this time, because seeing him so possessive over you, and so desperate for you, was the hottest thing ever. When you turned your head, you saw your reflection on the large mirror hanging on the wall, your back arched at an almost impossible angle, Simon already peeling his t-shirt from his back with one hand, soon followed by the clanking sound of the buckle of his belt being undone. You saw his angry cock spring free, the head hitting your buttcheek as he lowered his pants down to his knees.

"Now you're going to take my cock like the good little slut you are, okay? But you will only come when I say so, understood?" He looked at you in the reflection of the mirror, his brown eyes burning into yours, his frame looming above you ominously. "Y-Yes," you gulped, your body shaking from both holding the unnatural positions and the anticipation that made your skin tingle. "Yes, I-I understand."

You saw him spit down on his cock before rolling his palm over the tip, using both his saliva and precum as further lubrication. Not that he needed to, really. Him manhandling you had you wetter than the fucking ocean, your slick juices trailing down your inner thighs. He slid his cock against your weeping entrance, and you immediately chased after it with your hips, eliciting a low chuckle to rumble in Simon's chest. "Such a desperate little thing." He mused.

In one smooth thrust, he bottomed out inside of you, making you almost scream out, but you muffled it by burying your face into the bedsheets. "Oh, no you won't." You heard him say, before your face was guided up by his hand, wrapped around the front of your neck, forcing you to lock eyes with the sight of you being fucked in the mirror, tear-brimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. You tried to whimper out his name, but his punishing hips and the slight constriction of your airflow had you moaning breathlessly and babbling nonsense. "Look at you, taking my cock so well, my pretty slut." Simon grinned, before a sharp slap on your ass made you wince and cry out, a big red print already growing on the supple flesh.

He drove two fingers past your lips, slipping them inside your mouth as you began to suckle on the long digits, your eyes never leaving the reflection on the mirror. You truly looked wild, but Simon was an utter beast. With his free hand, he reached under you, his thumb lightly brushing against your sensitive nub, making you gasp around his fingers. "Mhf," you whimpered, hoping he would hear the "please" you were attempting to say.

"What was that, love?" He mockingly murmured into your ear. "You want to come? Is that it?" You nodded, your gaze pleading as you tried to look behind you to meet his gaze, but you were too restrained to move properly. "I don't know baby, you think you deserve it? You've been a bad, bad girl. And bad girls don't get to come." You stifled a quiet sob, a tear rolling down your flushed cheeks, and you mumbled pleas around his fingers.

His thumb toyed with your clit some more as he kept fucking you, and he seemed to enjoy your suffering, seeing you baring yourself to him, in your most primal and animal state, so hungry for him, aware that he was the only one capable of making you feel like this. "Mhm," you cried out, your thighs trembling, signalling that you were about to topple over the edge. "Come for me, y/n," Simon granted, kissing the top of your head. "Come around my cock."

And that was your undoing, unravelling around him as the orgasm crashed into you, your gummy walls squeezing him so hard Simon couldn't resist his own release, but he quickly pulled out, hot ropes of cum spurting all over your plump ass, murmured curses falling from his lips as he jerked out every last drop. He then proceeded to collapse onto his back on the bed, as you lay on your stomach next to him, both breathless and spent. You looked beautiful, tired and satisfied, all because of him, and it made his stomach churn, thinking that he wouldn't have minded to be met with this sight every morning. But he wasn't destined for that kind of happy life.

"I'll take a shower and then I'm taking the couch for the night," he said, his voice back to his cold, detached tone. "I'll send you the money for the Uber so you can go home tomorrow morning." You didn't even turn to look at him, heart heavy as you realised that, in the end, he would never change. 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

(Late) K!nktober 9

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 9: threesome. You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x John MacTavish x reader

(threesome) (college!au) (homoerotic!ghoap)

cw: mlm (kind of), extreme bromance, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, anal, reader is stuffed like a turkey

word count: 2512

a/n: i hope posting this late won't happen as often in the future, please be patien with me xo ++ first time writing a threesome, may make no sense at all lol

“Who do ye like best, between Si-boy here and I?”

“I can’t choose, Johnny. You can’t ask me that, I love you both equally.”

“Bunch ‘a shite, bonnie. Ye must like someone more?”

“Nuh uh, can’t say I do.”

“Who would you fuck, then?”

Both you and Johnny turned to Simon, your beer bottle hanging mid-air, the rim slightly brushing against your lips. “What now?” You and Johnny asked at the same time, completely caught off-guard by Simon’s sudden question. “Si, I don’t think-” You looked between the two boys, perplexed, sitting criss-crossed on the carpeted floor of your dorm room between your two friends. Your best friends, since you could remember.

“I mean it. We talked about this, aye? At least I’ve got the balls to ask ‘er.” He bit back to Johnny, shooting him a sidelong glare. “You don’t really mean it…right?” You tried to play it off by chuckling awkwardly, giving them a nervous half-smile. Johnny sighed, looking away as heat crept up his neck, his cerulean eyes avoiding your gaze. You turned to Simon, and his brown eyes were locked on yours. He looked dead serious. “You…you’re not joking?” You asked, fiddling with your beer.

“No,” Simon replied plainly. “And I am expecting an answer.” You could feel Johnny’s shy gaze on you, eagerly waiting. This was not how you had expected the night to go. You had invited them over to catch up a bit, since even if you all went to the same college, your schedules rarely allowed you to spend time together. They’d brought some beers, covering the smoke alarm with a damp sock so they could smoke, and it was all sailing smoothly, until now.

“Didnae mean to pressure ye, y/n. You dinnae have to answer him if ye’re not feelin’ like it.” Johnny said from behind you, although you knew he was secretly dying to know. “Guys, really…?” You asked, your gaze flicking between the two boys. “I can’t choose, it wouldn’t be fair. And I really don’t have a favourite. You want my honest answer? If it came to it, then both.” The look they gave you as soon as the words fell out of your lips made you regret almost every decision you had ever made over your exiguous years of life on this earth. Then they looked at each other, and you wondered if you were in trouble. Or about to be.

“Y’ heard the lady, Johnny,” Simon murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Wouldn’t be nice of us to not please her, eh?” You were increasingly more confused, especially since Johnny was mirroring his friend’s expression. “Sure wouldn’t,” he said. “So, y/n, will you have us?” The weight of their eyes on you felt unbearable. Did they seriously mean it? Of course they must’ve been fucking with you or something, they couldn’t possibly really mean it, they had been your best friends for ages, it felt borderline incestuous to see them under a different light.

You remembered two kids rolling in mud and playing rugby under the rain, then shaking themselves off like dogs, of course while standing next to you, and then you’d chase after them to beat them up with a stick. But now they were all grown up, their shoulders filled out, their features sharper, but they never lost the cheeky glint in their eyes.

Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. “I mean…fuck it, right?” You chuckled nervously, still thinking they were playing some prank on you. “We already did everything together, I don’t think sex would be weird.” They exchanged another look, then Johnny moved to take the beer out of your hands. “Ye’ve got us, then.” With that, he took a large swig from the bottle, using his other hand to reach for your face, taking your jaw between his fingers, applying minimal pressure, just enough to get your lips to part.

You didn’t have the time to process that he was getting closer, until his lips collided with yours, and you felt the bitter liquid go down your throat. You swallowed, still kissing Johnny, and he took the chance to let his tongue slide into your mouth, seeking out your tongue, which you offered with no resistance. Something similar to growl rumbled in his chest, and you felt it reverberating through your bones, all of your body relaxing into the kiss.

A pair of large hands found their way to your waist from behind, as Simon used his nose to move your hair out of the way, lips latching onto the sensitive skin of your neck, flushed from the heat of their touch. You moaned into Johnny’s mouth, and his kiss got somehow more passionate. His hands were on your thighs, gently prodding them apart to allow himself between them. Simon’s hands crept under your t-shirt, soon finding the soft swells of your breasts, no extra fabric separating your skin from his.

You gasped when he pinched your nipples, taking the sensitive nubs with his thumb and forefinger, then gently rolled them between his digits. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva still connected your lips to Johnny’s, your half-lidded eyes looking up into his cerulean ones with a dazed look, your cheeks flushed.

And somehow you ended up on your bed, all three of you standing on your knees, with you sandwiched between the two boys. Simon’s lips were now claiming yours, his kisses slower, more passionate, following a totally different pace from Johnny’s, whose kisses were more boyish. “You taste so good, y/n,” he murmured. “Ain’t that right, Johnny?” He simply hummed, his hands busy with exploring every inch of your clothed body, itching to get you out of them as soon as possible.

You were already soaked, your juices seeping through the fabric of your panties and most likely your shorts, too. When you felt the Scot’s hand circle the side of your thigh, you thought he was going to give your needy cunt some release, but instead, it reached for Simon’s crotch. You were a bit confused, but when you heard Simon groan as he peppered your neck with kisses, you wondered if this was the first time the two boys were this intimate with each other. Johnny palmed Simon through his sweatpants, his bulge swelling beneath the fabric. His other hand snaked around your waist, expert fingers sliding under your panties, feeling how utterly soaked you were, coaxing a small whimper.

“Fuck, she’s all wet, Si,” he informed his friend, a smirk in his voice. “Ye should feel ‘er. Absolutely soaked.” He collected some of the slick between your folds, and you groaned, slightly frustrated when he removed his hand, only to see him shoving his fingers, coated in your juices, into Simon’s mouth. “Fucking hell.” He growled, sucking on Johnny’s digits. A shiver ran down your spine, wide eyes transfixed on the scene in front of you, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. “Let’s get these clothes off ‘er, yeah?” The blond suggested, and you couldn’t help but think: fucking finally.

It felt odd, feeling their skin against yours, their body heat seeping right into your bones, their hairs tickling every inch of you. The last the three of you were all naked was when you were little snotty kids getting washed by Mrs. MacTavish after spending the day jumping in puddles after a storm. Now you weren’t kids anymore. Their warmth enveloped you, calloused hands tracing the contours of your body, stealing gasps of pleasure.

You sat between Simon’s legs, your back against him, his hands keeping your thighs parted for Johnny, who crawled right in between, admiring your glistening heat, all bare and exposed for them. His breath fanned over your sensitive core, your engorged clit screaming for attention, sending a shiver up your spine. His tongue darted out, giving small kitten licks that made you whimper, your legs instinctively closing, but Simon prevented you from doing that, clicking his tongue. “Can’t let you do that, love.” He chided affectionately, his lips marking the side of your throat. Johnny lapped up the slick between your folds with a flat tongue, his nose brushing against your clit, making you throw your head back against his chest, eyes fluttering closed.

A long digit slid inside your weeping hole, meeting no resistance. Your back arched as you released a shuddering breath, your hips meeting’s Johnny’s movements as he added a second finger and started to pump at a moderate place, his lips closed in around your sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking and licking. Your sweet mewls filled the room, the bed slightly shaking since Johnny started to fist his own cock, too turned on by your sounds and your taste. Simon was quiet, content enough with just watching you receiving pleasure, and Johnny humping his own hand like the dog he was. He kneaded the supple flesh of your breasts, playing with your nipples, attentively watching what made you moan a little louder or squirm a little more.

Suddenly, Johnny pulled back, stimulating your clit with his thumb instead. You opened your eyes, seeing his lips and chin glistening with your juices. He stopped jerking off to put his hand beside you on the mattress, leaning forward, your mouth agape as he kissed Simon, the blond’s tongue lapping at your arousal on his friend’s face. The scene was so weirdly hot that it tipped you over the edge, your loud moans and gasps for air interrupting their makeout session, both boys looking down at you as you unravelled around the Scot’s fingers, sporting a cocky grin. “Look at ‘er Johnny, think she can still go?” Simon asked, Johnny’s cerulean eyes meeting the blond’s brown ones. “Got to, we just started.”

Simon manoeuvred you so he was lying under you, making you straddle his lap. Johnny’s hands were on your waist, lining your entrance to his rosy tip. “Guys,” you mumbled. “I never-” “‘S okay, y/n,” Simon whispered gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re the ones you trust most in the world, right? We’re going to treat you so well.” Johnny hummed in agreement from behind, watching his friend’s cock tease your weeping hole. You weren’t a virgin, you had already had sex, some meaningless hookups, but never a threesome; your first one being with them surely wasn’t on this year’s bucket list.

You slowly lowered yourself on Simon’s cock, his girth stretching you out deliciously, coaxing a long, pleased moan as you descended, your walls hugging him perfectly. “Fuck,” Johnny groaned behind you. “Fuck…” you sighed, seeing Simon watching you with an amused look. “I know your little cunt would feel like the best on the fucking earth.” He praised gruffly, his hand coming to rest on the curve of your ass. He started to move his hips up into your cunt with deliberate strokes, his other hand tracing along your spine as your chest came to meet his, enjoying your soft sounds in his ear.

Then, you felt something moist hit your puckered hole, making you shiver, but Simon simply caressed your bottom, gently spreading you. “‘S alright, y/n. Johnny will be gentle. Right, Johnny?” He said, his tone turning stern, as if he was warning the brunette. “Aye, aye.” He replied, before he inserted a digit, your breath hitching at the unfamiliar sensation. “Johnny,” you pleaded breathlessly, Simon’s dick still gently sliding in and out of you. “Be gentle, or I swear to god I’m breaking that pretty little nose.”

“Ye think my nose is pretty? Ye’re flatterin’ me, y/n.” He chuckled, laughing even more when you snarled at him. You felt him spit again, then another finger followed, and he started to move both around to get you adjusted to the feeling. You were a moaning and squirming mess, the fullness you were feeling was confusing, you liked it but it also felt weird as fuck. “How you feelin’, beautiful?” Simon asked, kissing your cheek tenderly. You only managed a confused babble, already overwhelmed by having both your holes filled.

“Keep ‘er nice and spread, mate,” Johnny murmured, stroking his cock, getting ready to insert it. The blond obliged, your heartrate picking up as you felt him remove his fingers, only to start pushing in the head. It fucking hurt. You cried out softly, but Simon’s gentle thrusts were taking your mind off the pain. A string of curses fell from Johnny’s lips, your untouched hole squeezing him impossibly tight, no matter how hard you tried to focus on relaxing your muscles.

When the first two inches were in, Simon started to pick up his pace, fucking into you slightly faster, so you wouldn’t notice Johnny’s cock slowly filling you more and more. You were impossibly wet, Simon’s name leaving your lips like a prayer, already too drunk on the feeling to say something more articulated. So you didn’t even notice when Johnny bottomed out inside of you, his dick not as girthy as Simon’s, but still pretty long. When he started to move his hips as well, you suddenly remembered that he was in your ass, and that was your sanity’s undoing.

The two boys met each other at a shared pace, both thrusting into you as heat quickly coiled up in your stomach as the swirl of sensations brought you closer to the edge. Simon’s cock was drowning in your juices, creating the most obscene sounds known to man as he slammed into you. Your moans filled the room, the boy’s grunts only serving to edge you closer. Johnny was folded over you, as he sometimes kissed your neck, or Simon, or both of you at the same time.

You had never felt so connected to them, so safe, and so loved. You knew they would never hurt you, or let anything or anyone hurt you. They were your protectors, your knights in shining armour, who had only had eyes for you and you only for the longest time, yet it had somehow gone right over your head.

You were all close, so close, until the knot in your stomach snapped, your loud moan making the others follow suit right after. Warm cum spurted inside both your cunt and your ass, hips stuttering, balls pressed against you as they tried to reach as deep as possible inside you, filling you to the brim.

All three of you were completely out of it, trying to breathe normally again as the boys went soft inside you, deflating as they rode out their high. Once they had unsheathed themselves, you all tried to fit awkwardly onto your queen sized bed, Simon and Johnny being too large to fit on their own, so you were all comically squeezed together on the mattress. “How long have you guys been planning it?” You asked softly, half.lidded eyes gazing up to the ceiling. “Forever,” Johnny answered. “She said plannin’, not dreamin’ ya tit.” Simon retorted. You sniggered, shaking your head. “Well, either way, I think we can replicate it sometimes,” you murmured, your head turning left and right to look at both of them.

Nothing had changed. They were still your boys. 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

(Late) K!nktober day 8

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 8: gun play; dirty talk. You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Stalker!Simon)

cw: gunplay, dubcon (?), unprotected piv, creampie

word count: 2400

a/n: I'm very sorry for this delay, but you're getting double fed tonight!!

The music was deafening, the lights painting your body in different coloured hues, making the people around you look like they were in a stop-motion movie, making you dizzy if you looked too hard. Halloween, the night of the witches, night of the dead, whatever; to you, and your friend who was walking next to you, was the night of the sluts, which meant belt-sized skirts and the tiniest tank tops ever.

Dumping Jackson a week before Halloween was like a godsend. It stung deep in your pride, seeing him fuck that blonde bimbo in the bathtub at your friend Jessica’s party. It didn’t exactly hurt because you loved him or anything, it just infuriated you how he’d had the audacity to disrespect you like this. You mourned the loss for all of two hours after coming home from the party, then the pain was gone.

“y/n, I’m going to grab us a couple of shots at the bar!” Helen said over the loud thumping music, stretching herself up on her tippy toes despite wearing those safety hazards that she called ‘shoes’. You nodded, watching her disappear in a blink of an eye in the sea of people that littered the dance floor. You took your phone out, groaning at the sight of Jackson’s messages piling, along with phone calls. Apparently, fucking that girl had been a “terrible mistake” and he was “piss drunk”, but sober enough to get his dick hard and stick it in another girl’s cunt somehow.

Since Helen was taking too much time getting your drinks, most likely due to the monstrosity of a queue that lined the bar, you decided to go wait with her since you had nothing better to do. When you finally spotted her, two hot guys dressed as jacked angel and devil were talking to her. She met your gaze, and winked, making you smirk. The guys seemed nice, and you all took shots together, until a pleasant buzz filled your head, and the cute devil had to support you by wrapping his arm around your waist.

“You girls want to go to VIP?” He said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his captivating green eyes peering down at you, his lips curled in a sexy little smirk. You were more than looking forward to spending the night with him, since Helen had his friend’s tongue already halfway down her throat, his hand cupping her ass from under her miniskirt. “Gotta hit the loo first.” You said, unfortunately feeling the weight of the booze aggravating on your bladder. When you turned to head to the restroom, you didn’t notice the black-clad figure on the other side of the room starting to walk as soon as you did.

Poor, silly, y/n, you thought he hadn’t followed you here? It was Halloween, after all, one of the most dangerous nights of the year, he had to look out for you. Plus, those guys totally weren’t your type, he was far better. He was the only right guy for you. You simply didn’t know yet.

The queue to the restroom was surprisingly short, since there were only two stalls, and in your alcohol-induced haze, you forgot to properly lock the door behind you. Strike three. He’d pinned you for a smart girl, but God, you could be so damn naive. Strike one: talking to that guy. Strike two: not locking the door behind you. Strike three: letting him get to you.

You were washing your hands, eyes looking down as you heard the faint sound of the creaky hinges move.

“Oi, it’s-” you froze, the water still running over your hands. He simply stood there, looking at you. The hood of his black hoodie was up, casting shadows over his face, hiding his features from you in the already dimly-lit space. Your heart started to hammer, threatening to slip out of the frail confines of your ribcage. Jackson? He wasn’t nearly as tall, or his shoulders as broad, but perhaps it was the sheer fear coursing through your veins right now that made him look bigger.

“J-Jackson? What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone-” The man tsked, seemingly amused by your squeaky, feeble voice. “I’m no Jackson, bunny.” He replied, his baritone voice sending a chill down your bloodstream, making you shiver. “You know, y/n, I never liked him. You truly should look over your taste in men, because as of now, it’s shit.” You were utterly dumbfounded, the water still running behind you as you slowly turned around to face him. His imposing figure crowded the small space, looming over you.

“Who are you?” You asked, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper. You tried to look past him, but there was no way you could’ve escaped him, since he had most likely locked the door, like you should’ve done when you came in here. He took a step forward, some light exposing a razor-sharp jawline, covered in light stubble. “Who am I” He echoed, almost mocking. “I’m the only man who cares about you, y/n.”

When he removed his hood, your heart dropped to your ass. Simon. Simon Riley. He lived right across your apartment, on the other side of the corridor. Suddenly, although your cognitive processes were currently running a little slower than usual, the pieces started to come together. How he was coincidentally going downstairs to throw out the trash when you came up with groceries, and you always accepted his kind offer to help you unload them. Why sometimes you felt like someone was watching you, waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, and you thought you heard your front door close, but always thought it was a dream.

“S-Simon?” You stuttered, bewildered. You took a step back, but the cold sink pressed into your lower back, faint splashes of water hitting your bare skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, bunny,” he murmured, taking another step towards you, the sole of his combat boots making a squelching noise on the sticky floor. “I always had to see you with that son a bitch Jackson, I knew he wasn’t a good guy. He didn’t deserve you. I wasn’t surprised to learn he cheated on you.” How did he know? You had only talked about it on the phone, at home, alone- “Yes, y/n, I have cameras installed in your house,” he scoffed, reading your thoughts. He said it as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. “How else am I supposed to protect you, hm? Make sure you’re safe?”

Your chest was heaving, the sheer panic you were feeling not allowing you to move from your spot, slightly shaking. “Plus, I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world,” he began, taking another step forward. He stood inches away from you now, raising a gloved finger to your finger, running it over your jaw before hooking it under your chin, forcing you to tilt your chin, your eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. “When you’ve drunk a couple glasses of wine, and you sit on the couch, your pretty little hand travelling between your thighs-” he scoffed. “Because, let’s face it, that guy couldn’t even give you a proper orgasm, y/n. What a sad excuse of a man he was, unable to please his woman?”

His finger wandered south, making you gasp as he stopped right between your heaving breasts. “Are you…going to hurt me?” You asked, gazing up at him through thick, black lashes. He cooed. “I would never, my sweet little bunny,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling the fold of your ear, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. “No one could treat you as good as I would, but it seems like you need a little bit more convincing.” You suddenly felt something cold tracing the inside of your thighs, making you whimper as it trailed up your flushed flesh. “Because apparently, you prefer to go with some fucking jerks who only want to use you for your body, y/n. And it makes me so. Fucking. Mad.” You stilled, realising he had a gun.

“S-Simon, no…please…” you cried out softly, already feeling the hot tears brimming your eyes. “Shh, shh,” he shushed you quietly, pressing a few butterfly kisses on your jawline. “I’d never hurt you, didn’t I just tell you that? Although…” his voice took on a menacing tone. “I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through that guy’s skull if you so let him put a hand on you again.” The top of the barrel made contact with your clothed core, feeling the steel barrel slide right between your folds. You shouldn’t have liked it, but the friction combined with your intoxicated state elicited a soft moan to slip past your lips.

“That’s it, such a good little slut,” Simon chuckled, biting into the rosy flesh of your neck. He immediately chased away the sting, running his flat tongue over the red mark left by his teeth. “You’re a twisted little thing, aren’t you? Getting wet on my gun, tch.” He mocked, a wolfish grin on his lips. “N-No, I…” He cut you off. “I know how much you had to hold yourself back with Jackson, he fucked you with no passion, and you let him treat you like a sex doll, bunny. He couldn’t give you what you really needed, but I can.” Another gasp ripped from your chest, feeling him move the flimsy fabric of your panties on one side with the gun, the cold steel collecting some of your arousal from your weeping cunt.

His other hand crept under your top, cupping one of your breasts, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing another sweet moan out of your lips. He finally closed the distance between you, bewitching you with a feverish kiss, his tongue immediately seeking out yours, tangling with it in a dizzying dance. He kneaded the plump flesh of your breast in his hand, the other guiding the barrel between your slick folds, teasing your entrance, and a growl rumbled in his throat as he felt his cock pulsating painfully in his jeans. You were responding so well to him, perhaps not in the right state of mind to actually understand what was going on.

He had started to become obsessed with you from the moment he saw you, when he moved into your building. Your sweet laugh, that cute smile that you should’ve reserved for him, and him only. You were perfect, yet you failed to see it, selling yourself short for pathetic boys like Jackson and that guy out there, who was probably wondering where you had gone. You were exactly where you belonged, with him. He could treat you better than anyone else; besides, he knew you so well, he knew everything about you. No one would love you like he did.

You had started to grind your hips over the barrel of the gun, chasing the heat that was coiling up in your stomach, the delicious friction against your clit bringing you closer to my release. Then you suddenly felt empty, and you groaned, frustrated, shooting him a glare. “W-Why did you…?” You gasped, feeling him trace the cold steel up your body, pushing it between your lips. “Take off my pants, y/n, I need to feel that sweet pussy around my cock.” You could taste yourself on the weapon, the tangy hint of your juices mixing with the feeling of the metal.

Inhaling a shaky breath through your nose, you started to fumble with the buckle of his belt, unable to see what you were doing, with your mouth full. “Faster.” Simon ordered, pushing the gun down your mouth, your throat clenching and making you gag slightly. You finally managed to get his jeans open, and pulled them down along with his boxer briefs, feeling his fat cock springing free, hitting your stomach. Simon’s hand left your chest, spitting down on his palm and then stroking his dick with it to avoid any discomfort. “Turn around, bunny.” He said, taking the gun out of your mouth.

You did as he said, meeting your reflection in the fogged mirror, his imposing frame looming behind you, and you shivered when you felt him pull his weapon to your head, the rush making your arousal leak down your legs. “You’re such a filthy whore, y/n. Say it,” He growled, lining the head of his cock with your weeping entrance, keeping the string of your thong to the side with his thumb. “Say you’re a filthy whore.” In one long thrust, he bottomed out inside of you, making you cry out, your gummy walls enveloping his shaft as he speared you open.

“I…I’m a- ah…f-filthy whore!” You whimpered, your hands curling around the cool ceramic of the sink, feeling it press onto your lower abdomen as Simon used the gun to bend you over. “Yes you are,” he cooed. “Fucking hell, bunny, you’re so soaked you’re going to drown me, baby.” His hips started to thrust into you at a punishing pace, your forehead pressing against the mirror, your hand slipping, closing the tap as you were pushed forward. “See, bunny, no one can fuck you like I do. Can you feel me inside of you? Fuck, look how bad your little pussy needs me, such a greedy little thing, needing to be filled.”

Your moans filled the grubby stall, the obscene sounds of his dick slamming into your cunt mixing with the noises of skin against skin. The heat was coiling back up quickly in your belly, Simon’s cock throbbing against your walls, meaning he was close as well. “I’m going to fill you up, and then you’re going to walk back with my cum leaking from this filthy cunt, yeah? You’re gonna go back to your friend Helen, saying that you got the best dick of your life.”

His words were muffled nonsense in your head now, your orgasm mounting quickly, until it crashed onto you like a truck. You clenched tight around him as you came, your squirt splashing on his lower abdomen. An animalistic grunt rumbled in Simon’s chest, thick white ropes of cum shooting inside you, filling you to the brim. You were left breathless, dazed and confused, feeling Simon’s seed flowing down your legs.

“I’ll see you at home, bunny. You’re mine now.” Simon whispered, leaving a chaste kiss against your temple, before he disappeared into thin air.

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 7

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 7: praise kink. You can find all the stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(DadsFriend!Simon x virgin!reader) (Forbidden) (Age gap)

cw: oral (both receiving), cum on face, glasses kink (kinda), unprotected piv, virginity loss, creampie, multiple orgasms

word count: 3890

Summer break, that one month of the year you weren't too busy with uni exams and could actually come back home to your parents, your personal ambitions and their desire to see you succeed in life taking you away from them for the purpose of higher education, which they couldn't afford for themselves. Plus, your family always spent summer differently. No lavish beaches or fancy trips to the ocean, but up in the mountains in your cabin, relaxing away from the suffocating heat of the cities, hiking or simply lounging at home.

Your mum and dad, as always, had missed you dearly. You were their pride and joy, their little girl away on the other side of the country, studying to make a name for herself someday. It was only your first year, and you had visited often, of course, but it's hard to not miss your family, adjusting to adulthood and your newfound independence.

This summer, though, your dad had a surprise: Simon Riley. Your dad's colleague, a Lieutenant just like him, but in different divisions. You were familiar with Mr. Riley, his brown eyes had met yours for the first time at a winter ball two years ago, a few weeks after your 18th birthday. He had been a true gentleman that night, a kind heart hiding beneath the ink and the scars marring his skin. You two had chatted all night, and had even shared a cigarette by the fire exit, sneaking behind your father's back.

You'd had a flute of champagne too many, so you didn't remember about the fire burning in Mr. Riley's gaze, watching you huff out the smoke into the cold night, wearing his heavy jacket around your shoulders, your beautiful body clad in that breathtaking dress peeking under it. He knew he shouldn't have felt this way about a fellow comrade's daughter, almost 20 years her junior, but he simply couldn't help it.

So there you were, two years later, looking as beautiful as you did that night. Your hair was a little shorter, big glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, and he noticed how your face was growing more and more into its adult features, your sweet cherub cheeks looking a little more hollow, but you were still mesmerising. "Simon will spend a week here with us," your father had said. "He's going to leave for his well-deserved vacation from an airport very close to here so I offered him to stay with us for a while before I took him to catch his plane. So be on your best behaviour, alright, y/n? Don't bother Simon too much." And so, you promised to be a good girl.

The first two days, you and Simon didn't talk much, most conversation happening when your parents were also present, usually over meals, and only soft-spoken greetings were shared when your paths crossed during the silent hours of the night. You were usually reading until sunrise, while Simon simply didn't sleep at all, insomnia being his only loyal companion. The third day, you hastily walked past him on the way to your bedroom from the bathroom, damp hair cascading over your shoulders, droplets of body falling onto the wooden floorboards. He used the shower right after you, cursing himself mentally as he pumped his cock angrily under the cold spray of water, thoughts of your wet, naked body under that pink towel haunting his mind.

The fourth day, you had slept in while your parents had left for their morning hike, until a sudden storm hit, a lightning striking very close to the cabin, the thunder shaking the cabin, and you with it. Rubbing the grogginess off your heavy eyelids, you walked into an empty kitchen, apart from Simon sitting at the table, cradling a cup of tea in one hand and some book in the other. "Hey," you called out, yawning. "There's a pretty bad storm outside, do you know where my parents are?"

"Called ten minutes ago from the shelter, a pretty big tree fell onto the trail and now they have to wait 'til the storm calms and someone comes to move it. Could take all day." He hadn't peeled his eyes off the pages as he talked, but he was pretty damn grateful he did when he finally took a look at you. Hair falling over one shoulder in a messy braid, a skimpy tank top and matching short shorts that barely contained your curves, and Simon had barely any control over his filthy imagination right now. Your glasses stood on your nose a little crooked as you simply hummed, eyes still half-lidded as you approached the counter.

"Coffee? Tea?" Simon asked, the chair scraping over the floorboards as he got up. "You look in no condition to be handling fire or kitchen utensils right now, doll." The pet name had slipped past his lips a little too easily, but you were too dazed to notice. "M'yeah," you groaned, yawning again as you sat down at the table. "Coffee, pretty please." Simon nodded, immediately getting to work. He'd noticed you drank some sort of latte with vegetable milk - or something like that, he was no expert - and a dash of vanilla syrup. In just a handful of days, he had your routine memorised.

Your eyes snapped open, suddenly more attentive as Simon placed the drink in front of you, your oat latte sitting into your favourite glass, and he'd got it down to the cute little glass straw you used. Of course he knew, he hadn't been able to shake away the thought of your lips wrapped around his fat cock when they closed in on the straw. "This...thank you." you said, stirring your latte as you tried to hide your puzzled expression. "I observe people for a living, and I'm often trusted to remember and withhold a lot of important details," he explained casually, taking his seat back at the table. "It's merely a habit to learn the small things about the people I'm with."

He knew this was wrong, stealing glances from behind the pages of his book as you had your back turned to him, washing the dishes. He wondered if you knew that the contour of one of your asscheeks was faintly peeking from underneath those little shorts, the line of your waist hugged by your tank top, the braid falling over your shoulder leaving your delicious-looking neck exposed. He knew he shouldn't have gotten up from his chair again, his arm grazing your lower back as he reached for the cigarettes on the counter. He shouldn't have asked "Want one? Your parents are out anyway", and you totally shouldn't have said "yes".

You opened the window in the kitchen, just a crack to let the smoke out, but the raging storm and howling wind outside still made you shiver, hugging your arms close to your chest as you smoked. Simon noticed, of course, and balanced his cigarette on the rim of the plastic cup you were using as a makeshift ashtray, walking to the guest room to fetch a sweatshirt for you. You murmured a sweet "thank you", doing the same thing he did with his cigarette as you slid it over your shoulders, exposing a bit of your stomach as you flexed your arms, and he inwardly missed being able to peek at your cleavage. Still, just like that night at the ball, the sight of you in his clothes stirred something in him- something primal.

"How's that place for nerds you're going to, anyway? Your dad couldn't stop chewing my bloody ear off about you moving out for two whole months." You scoffed, huffing out a faint grey cloud. "I 'spose it's alright," you shrugged. "People are nice, I really like the environment and I'm pleased with what I've studied and of my results so far." Simon hummed, cradling the white stick between his long fingers. "Bet you got a line of boys, eh?" He asked, hoping you wouldn't notice his sneaky attempt at figuring if you had a boyfriend or not. "Nope, no such thing," you replied truthfully. "Wanted to focus on my studies, and it took a lot more time than I had expected to get adjusted to the new lifestyle." You tossed the cigarette into the plastic cup, making a faint sizzling sound as it fell into the water you had filled the bottom with. "Plus, half the guys there look like they don't know what a girl looks like."

Simon mirrored your action, casually leaning with his hip against the counter, watching you basically drown in his sweatshirt. "Ain't that right." He mused, his voice a borderline growl as he shamelessly let his eyes rake over your body. "I'm sure they wouldn't know what to do with you if you gave them the chance." Your eyes snapped up at him, your heart stuttering in your chest, his words and the sultry tone he used stirring something unfamiliar down in your belly. You awkwardly tried to laugh it off. "I mean," you chuckled. "I barely even kissed anybody, that lame, pseudo French kiss Sam from History class gave me when I was 17 was the most romance I had in my life."

His gaze darkened at the revelation, your purity making him feel even more guilty about his thoughts, but it was like you had poured straight gasoline onto an open flame, and now all Simon wanted to do was to ruin you. "Boys don't know a bloody thing about a woman's body," he scoffed, taking a small, almost imperceptible step towards you. "Their brain is rotten, blinded by those sad porn videos they watched, and all they can do is pathetically hump their sad dicks in their sad hands." You giggled, bringing a hand over your mouth. When you closed your eyes for a split second as you laughed, he moved closer.

"So you're saying I won't have any luck within the dating pool my university offers?" You asked, an amused glint in your gaze as you smiled up at him. "I'm saying only a man could handle you the way you need to be handled, y/n." The softness was gone from his voice, replaced by something feral, a look you'd never noticed before in his eyes, since he'd only reserved it to himself when you were looking away. By now, his imposing frame was caging you to the counter, basically forcing you to sit onto the cold granite.

You were speechless, doe-eyed gaze and parted lips, shiny with saliva, trembling with shuddering breaths. "You're like a fragile little dove now," he explained, his voice so low it rumbled in his chest. He lifted a hand to your face, rugged skin grazing your soft cheek as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "But as soon as someone starts something as small as a spark, the fire will ignite and you'll burn uncontrollably. It takes an expert to tame a fire like that, y/n-" he leaned closer until his lips hovered only a breath above yours. "And I've been dreaming about being the one to tame you since the night I met you."

Your breath hitched, the hand cradling your face now slowly sliding down your neck, his thumb tracing the column of your throat, feeling your raging pulse resting beneath the sensitive flesh. Your mouth went suddenly dry, and you were at a complete loss for words. This man, your dad's colleague and trusted friend, had been lusting after you for nearly two years, after seeing you only once. You couldn't lie, Simon Riley held a certain charm to himself that you couldn't quite ignore. The silver scar that ran over his top lip, his slightly crooked nose, the bulging muscles that hid underneath those fitted t-shirts he always wore. Plus, how couldn't you be intrigued by the fantasy of being with a real man, someone who knows how to touch you, who would put your pleasure first, and willing to teach you how to please.

"Get on your knees, y/n." A shiver ran down your spine. "Yes, sir." You readily replied, your knees finding the rough wooden floorboards of the cabin. You moved to take off your glasses, but Simon clicked his tongue. Glasses stay on, sweetheart. I want you to be able to see my face clearly when I'm deep inside your mouth." You gulped again at his words, your eyes following his every movement as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweatpants, pulling down his boxer briefs along with them. If you hadn't moved your head, you were sure his dick would've hit you square in the face when it sprung out, looking painfully hard, pink-reddish tip oozing pearlescent precum.

Your mouth fell agape, eliciting an amused chuckle. "Just like that, y/n. Didn't think you would pick up on that so fast." You didn't even catch his teasing words, transfixed on the sheer size of him. A bulging vein cut down his whole length,his blonde pubes shaved, balls heavily hanging below. You gingerly raised your hand, your slim fingers encircling his shaft, making him groan. "That's it, good girl. That's how you hold it." You looked up at him from behind your glasses, his tip only an inch away from your lips. "Take it in your mouth now. Don't worry, it doesn't bite, but you gotta be careful not to bite it, doll."

Slowly, you brought his dick to your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip, your tongue collecting the bead of precum from his slit. Simon released an animalistic grunt, unable to hold back now that he had you. A large hand curved around the back of your head, pushing you down. You coughed, gurgling and almost gagging at the sudden movement, but Simon held you in place. "Breathe with your nose, y/n, or else you'll choke," he instructed, his voice strained at the feel of your mouth around his cock- it was divine. "Relax your pretty throat and- good girl..." You learned fast, mainly out of survival instinct, welcoming him down your relaxed throat until his shaved pubes tickled the tip of your nose.

Being the lonely man that he was, Simon hadn't been with a woman for some time now, and certainly he hadn't been with forbidden fruit like you, angelic-looking and pure, gazing up at him with big eyes and flushed cheeks, already taking all eight inches in your mouth. He couldn't control his orgasm, a long groan arising from his throat as he came, unsheathing himself as he shot hot ropes of thick cum over your face, the lenses of your glasses now covered in white goo. His cum left a tangy, slightly salty taste on your tongue, and you were still debating whether you liked it or not. "Sorry, doll," Simon apologised, the gentleness back in his voice as he took your glasses off, placing them onto the counter. "I hope you can forgive an old man after being alone for some time. Plus, it's not everyday you meet a fast learner as good as you."

You smiled bashfully as he helped you back on your feet, your knees feeling slightly sore and itchy, covered in small scratches from being on the floor. You thought Simon was done, but you were oh so wrong when he suddenly picked you up, hand secured under your thighs as he moved you onto the table. "Told you you only needed a little spark." He murmured, before he claimed your lips into a feverish kiss, nothing like Sam from History. He tasted himself on your tongue, his cock ready for round two, twitching impatiently between the two of you. He groaned, his hand snaking down your body, his forefinger stroking your needy cunt through your shorts. "S-Simon..."

"Shit, y/n, you're fucking soaked," he said, his brown orbs gazing down at you, dark with lust. "Just from sucking my cock, you're already a mess." Your face was glowing red like a tomato, your hand wrapping around his thick forearm as he tried to reach for your shorts. "Easy, doll. I'll be gentle." He whispered, kissing the crown of your head as you loosened your grip. "Won't it hurt?" You asked meekly, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. "I'll make sure to make you love it."

You let Simon undress you, trusting him with your all - literally - as fabric gave way to skin, exposing your whole body to him. To him, you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, lands of smooth skin, the roundness of your breasts, the mouth-watering line of your waist, and those creamy thighs he couldn't wait to have wrapped around him. His sweatpants pooled at his ankles, his military green t-shirt lying on the floor next to them. He coaxed your thighs apart salivating at the sight of your slick arousal coating your folds. Simon made you lie back onto the table, his strong arms holding you in place, long fingers holding onto your hips as he feasted on your soaked pussy like a man starved.

Your sweet, sweet sound filled the kitchen, the unfamiliar stimulation making you see stars. You were mewling, his flat tongue lapping at your juices before it circled and suckled on your sensitive clit, coaxing the best noises he'd ever heard. When you were relaxed enough, he pushed in a digit, slowly stretching your weeping hole, preparing it to accommodate his fat cock, throbbing uncontrollably as your whimpers reached his ears. Your entrance was drenched, a second digit swiftly following, his fingers slowly pumping inside you with minimal resistance, just a few grimaces of discomfort making your nose wrinkle before he soothed the ache by stimulating your clit. It wasn't long before you came too, the heat pooling in your belly unravelling so fast you didn't even know your orgasm had hit until you were a squirmin mess, Simon's name falling from your lips like a prayer, your thighs squeezing his head so tight he thought he would've gladly died between your legs, the last flavour on his tongue being your cum.

He straightened his back, his lips and chin glistening with your release, a proud grin on his lips. "You taste so fucking good, y/n. Fuck, i could probably eat you for hours." He said, looking down at your figure splayed onto the table, still out of breath as you came down from your first high. You couldn't even process what had happened when Simon pulled your hips closer to the edge of the table, his tip teasing your needy entrance, collecting some of your recent release to decrease any uncomfortable friction. He also brought his hand to his mouth, spitting on his palm before he spreaded it onto his length. "Please, Simon, please..." you pleaded, biting down on your lip as you looked up at him, propped up on one elbow as he effortlessly held your legs up. "Be gentle."

"You don't have to worry, doll," he reassured you once again. "You've been so good up to now, I'm sure you'll be able to handle this as well, okay? Do you trust me, y/n?" You nodded, and that was all the confirmation he needed to push the first three inches inside. You cried out, your hands holding onto the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip. "Shh, shh, shh," he shushed you as you arched your back, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as you adjusted to the stretch. "That's it, good girl. I'm almost halfway inside, see?" You tried to look down, seeing the way your folds were wrapped around his girthy cock, your gummy walls twitching, as if they wanted - needed - to suck him deeper inside.

You took a deep breath, focusing on releasing the pressure between your hips as Simon slid in with another two inches, and then another before he bottomed out. His balls rested against your ass, and if he's not quick to compose himself, he would've come already. Your tight pussy was squeezing him impossibly tight, and it took everything in him to not start railing you like a savage, instead leaving you some time to get acquainted to the feeling of fullness inside your body. "Y-You...you can move now, Simon." You squeaked, giving him a nod of reassurance. Probably shouldn't have done that, love.

Simon began to move his hips, picking up the pace as the volume of your moans increased. Your nails clawed at his back, your legs tight around his waist as he held you close to his chest, his hungry cock pumping into your cunt so fast you felt drunk on it. "S-Simon...Simon!" You called out, hot tears of pleasure lining your eyes. "Fuck...that's it, that's a fucking good girl, y/n, you're taking my cock so good...so fucking good." The way he was groaning in your ear was making the same kind of heat stir in your lower abdomen, his praises making your self-esteem spike up.

He was fucking his friend's only daughter, fucking her stupid on the same table they all ate every meal at, marking her as his own; the rush was unmatched. He cupped one of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as his lips latched onto your erect nub. You arched into him, tipping your head back as you let yourself fall deadweight, trusting Simon's strong arm, wrapped around your waist, to hold you up; and he did. "Come on, y/n, be a good girl for me and cum one more time," he murmured, his teeth gently taking your nipple, never applying pressure. "Cum on my fucking cock, y/n, I wanna feel your cunt choke my cock and milk it dry."

His filthy words were once again your undoing, his pubes tickling your clit every time his hips collided with yours also speeding up the process, and you came again, your orgasm hitting harder than the first. It was like a wave that wrecked you, from your core then up your spine, leaving your body spasming and gasping for air as you screamed out Simon's name. You clenched around him so tight he simply couldn't pull out, a twisted need to brand you as his making him spill himself inside you, hips stuttering as a very strong orgasm hit him as well.

They should've hung it in a museum, really, the image of his cum leaking from your whole onto the table, and he felt like the whole action was borderline blasphemous, as if he had tainted the doors of Heaven. He dampened a couple of kitchen towels with some lukewarm water and cleaned you up, sliding his sweatshirt back over your head before he scooped you up in his arms and brought you back to your room, tucking you in under the covers.

He left a chaste kiss on your forehead, but he did not climb into bed with you. He never would've. He was a horrible man, who had done horrible, unspeakable things, and he had just ruined the sweetest girl, the only good flower left in his garden now wilting right before his very own eyes. He wouldn't have spoken about this ever again, he wouldn't have looked at you if you happened to stumble into base again, wouldn't have called, or asked about your life again. But he was sure about one thing: he had marked you as his, and no one would've been able to tame your fire like he did that day. 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 6

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 6: reunion sex. You can find all the stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Boyfriend!Simon) (Jealous!Simon)

cw: oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampied

word count: 2680

a/n: later post than usual, spent the day with my boyfriend so I didn't have much time to write

68 days, 9 hours and 23 minutes, that’s how long Simon had been away for. Not the first deployment he’d been on since you started dating, but definitely the longest. Days seemed never ending, your nerves wrecked by your concern for him, restless nights spent in your shared bed, holding one of his t-shirts to your chest, in vain hopes that his scent would soothe you enough to allow Morpheus to take you in his arms. Sure, you still went on about your days, keeping yourself busier than usual, staying overtime at work, dreading coming to an empty home; it just didn't feel the same

The first week was fine: you had your space, more privacy - Simon was surprisingly very similar to a velcro dog whenever he was home - and you spent that time pampering yourself. The second week was a little lonelier, you started to miss Simon more, not hearing from him, and having no one to talk about your day to when you came back from work. By the end of the first month, you had less energy, not as motivated to go on about your day, always under the weather. Your friends forced you to go out with them, take your mind off him, but it wasn’t easy to not be worried when you knew your boyfriend was in bumfuck nowhere, on the other side of the world, and you weren’t able to receive any updates about his condition.

You didn’t know when he was coming back, every detail about this operation of his being highly classified. You understood why many people in his field decided to never have families, and you had so much respect for those army wives, so devoted to their hero husbands, who somehow managed to not have a psychotic meltdown every time they left. Either way, the joy of having them back was unmatched.

It was a rainy night, the kind of night that makes you want to cocoon yourself in blankets with some warm tea and do nothing. Something on Netflix played on the TV, the heat from your mug of tea making the warmth seep through your skin and soothe your muscles. Suddenly, the screen of your phone lit up, an unknown number appearing on the screen. You hesitated, but ultimately decided to slide your thumb over the screen, bringing it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, lovie,” a familiar voice greeted from the other side. “I know this isn’t exactly the most romantic way to announce that I’m back, but it’s raining bloody cats and dogs ‘ere, so the buses home were cancelled. I ever had some flowers for you, those blue ones you like, but they got drenched, the bloody things.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, chuckling at his words as you suppressed a sob. He was back, and the joy you felt was unmatched. “Damn storm, eh?” You tried to jest, blinking away the tears. “Don’t worry, Si. I’m on my w- why are you calling me from a public phone?” You asked, getting up from the couch to fetch your shoes. “Er…I might have gotten a little…agitated, when they announced that all buses were going to be cancelled. But a very sweet lady- Marjorie, yeah?” You heard him ask the most likely 80-something years old next to him. “Yes, so, Marjorie here gave me her phone so I could call my very beautiful girlfriend.” You snorted a laugh, shaking your head. “Does Marjorie need a lift?” You asked, grabbing the car keys and your purse. “Oh no, her son-” A pause. “Benjamin is coming to get her. Drive safe, baby, it’s not like I can go anywhere.”

The drive was surprisingly short, since no one in their right mind was trying to drive in the storm, especially not this late at night. Once you got to the bus station, you saw a, very tall, familiar head of dirty blonde hair, and that damned scarred smile you had fallen in love with. The moment Simon had climbed inside the car and threw his duffle bag in the backseat, you just couldn’t hold back tears anymore. “Hey ba- woah, woah, easy there, girl.” Simon chuckled, encircling your waist with one strong arm when you basically threw yourself over the central console to hug him. Sobs wrecked through your ribcage, your tears quickly soaking up the collar of his t-shirt. “I missed you so much!” You cried out, your broken voice muffled by the skin of his neck, your face buried in its crook. “I was so worried, I didn’t hear a thing from you, I was always nauseous, I-”

His warm and soft lips soothed your nervous rambling, his large hand cradling your face, rugged skin holding you with unexpected tenderness. You immediately relaxed into the kiss, finally feeling his familiar taste after so much time. His thumb stroked your cheek, keeping the kiss going for another few seconds before he pulled back and left a chaste peck on the crown of your head. “Hey,” he whispered, voice smooth like honey. “I’m back, okay? All in one piece. And I missed you so fucking much, y/n.” He kissed you again, and the sweet moan that rose in your throat made him groan. “And I really, really need you to drive us home as fast as you can so I can properly show you how much I’ve missed you.”

When you crossed the threshold to the lobby, Jackson, a new guy that had moved into your apartment complex just a month ago, raised his hand to say hello as he was grabbing his mail. “Hey, y/n-” His face fell the moment your 6’4”, 250+lbs, totally not jealous boyfriend appeared behind you, a steely glare in his deep brown eyes. “Jackson!” You greeted back, a wide smile on your face. “This is Simon, you know I’ve told you about him. I just picked him up from the bus station, he just came back from his deployment.” Jackson looked pale, and like he was very much going to pee his pants. “H-Hi…”

“Good evening.” The saccharine grin on Simon’s face betrayed the death threat in his voice, and Jackson quickly scurried away up the stairs. “Do I need to ask who the fuck is that?” Simon asked with a raised eyebrow, peering down at you. “Nobody, really,” you scoffed dismissively, punching the button up for the lift. “Jackson moved in a month ago, he lives in Mrs. Robinson’s old apartment. He helped me unload the groceries a couple times, he’s alright.” Nothing but a low rumble came out of Simon, as the two of you stepped into the elevator.

“Another man was in my house?” Simon asked, a menacing hint in his voice as he leaned forward, closing the height difference between you and him. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, unable to utter a single word. “Another man touched what’s mine?” He asked again. “N-No, Simon, I-” He clicked his tongue, his lips now a breath above yours. “Looks like I was away for too long, and you need to be reminded of who you belong to.” The moment the doors opened, a squeak left your lips when he picked you up effortlessly, hoisting you up on his shoulder like a caveman and carrying the two of you down the corridor.

He retrieved the keys to your flat from the back pocket of your jeans, the lock clicking open. Simon tossed his bag on the ground, still holding you, then made a beeline for the bedroom. “S-Simon, I can explain,” you kept repeating, your voice nervous and high-pitched, knowing what was about to come. You groaned, the air being kicked out of your lungs when your back hit the mattress, Simon’s body immediately following after, the bed dipping under his weight as he snaked between your thighs. “Oh, darling, I think this reunion is going to be the perfect opportunity for you to remember who’s boss here.” He purred, planting his palms flat on the bedsheets on either side of your head, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, definitely more aggressive than the sweet one you’d shared in the car.

His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of your jeans, hastily sliding them down your smooth legs, smiling against your lips when you released a shaky whimper. “Calm down, pretty girl,” he whispered, a hand creeping under your t-shirt, cupping your breast through your bra. “Just make sure to scream my name extra loud tonight, yeah? I think Jackson needs to know who’s the only one that can fuck you.” His fingers pulled down your bra cup, warm thumb sliding over your sensitive nipple. “And I fuck you pretty fucking good.”

You were pretty much sure that you were drenched by now, the sight of Simon being jealous doing something to you that you couldn’t quite explain to yourself. “I missed my jealous bastard.” You quipped, lifting your head up a couple inches away from the pillow to steal a quick kiss. “Not jealous,” he corrected sternly. “It’s called being territorial, because you’re fucking mine.” You smiled, cupping his face with both hands. “Just yours, Simon,” you murmured reassuringly. “And I wasn’t the only one who missed you.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, a moan leaving your lips when he collected your panties on one side, sliding a finger between your slick folds. “Mhm,” he hummed. “I can tell. Don’t worry baby, we’re gonna take very good care of her too.” Simon climbed off the bed to undress, and you quickly stripped out of your t-shirt and undergarments. When he crawled back onto the bed, he hoisted your thighs on his broad shoulders, letting your legs hang off his back. “It’s so good to be back.” He purred before he dove in, his flat tongue lapping up at your weeping hole, drinking you like a man finding an oasis in the desert. The sweetest sounds of pleasure fell from your lips, while Simon produced the most obscene ones from between your thighs, stretching your weeping hole with two long digits, pumping his fingers in your needy cunt as he sucked on your engorged clit.

You were tugging at his hair, a squirming mess wiggling about on the bed as you pulled him down on you one second, then tried to push him away the other, the stimulation making you go crazy, reducing you to a babbling, pathetic little thing. His strong hands were secured on the back of your thighs, firmly keeping you in place and restricting you from any unwanted movements. You were rotating between “Simon”, “oh fuck”, and “right there” every other second, and Simon drank in your needy moans like he did the juices leaking from your sweet, soft pussy. He only stopped when you unravelled around him, an orgasm wrecking through you and leaving you breathless.

He raised his hand, sporting a victorious grin, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal, looking prouder than ever. “Such a good girl.” He purred, giving you one last kiss before propping himself up on his elbows and pushing himself off the bed, only to position himself back between your legs. You saw him spit down on his hand, before he started to slowly stroke his length, his fat cock ready to ruin you, already oozing with precum and twitching in anticipation. “What-” you tried to say. “What?” Simon cooed. “Just because you already came once doesn’t mean we aren’t finished, love. Plus-” he teased your entrance with his tip. “We’re just getting started.”

Inch after inch, his heavy cock stretched your soaked hole, collecting your recent release onto his length, a growl rumbling deep in Simon’s chest as your walls clenched around him, adjusting back to his size after months of distance. “Oh, Simon…fuuuuck…” you cried out, slim fingers fisting the pristine bed sheets as he buried himself deep inside you, now kissing shy of your cervix, balls tickling your ass. “That’s it,” he moaned. “That’s the good girl I’ve missed, y/n. You still take me so fucking good.” He slid a hand under your head, cradling it as he captured your lips in a feverish kiss, tongue delving deep into your mouth, exploring its familiar warmth.

You clawed at his back the moment he started to pump his hips, leaving red crescents on his already scarred skin, legs wrapped tight around his waist, heels pressing down on the back of his thighs, keeping him deep within your gummy walls.

“I…f-fuck, I’ve missed you.” You cried out against his lips, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he thrust with purpose, soft, guttural moans arising from his throat. “What about that Jackson guy?” He growled, his teeth catching your hoop earring and gently tugging at it. “I’m sure he would’ve loved to ease your concerns, hm?” In a different circumstance, you would’ve rolled your eyes at his words, but his cock punishing your cervix was making it kinda hard to be annoyed at him right now. “N- I would’ve never-”

“I know you would never, baby,” he reassured you, although his deep strokes said otherwise. “But I think he needs to understand that you-” A hard thrust. “Are.” Another. “Mine.” And another. His words were punctuated by his harsh thrusts and your screams, and you were pretty sure you had drawn blood, nails digging into his back, making him hiss. “S-Simon, please…” You pleaded, hot tears lining your eyes, heat quickly coiling back up in your stomach from the overstimulation.

Simon pulled out, a sigh of relief leaving your lips before he grabbed you by your waist, manhandling you as he flipped you on your stomach, lifting your hips up to put you in doggy before he lined himself back, pushing into your weeping, sensitive hole once again, stripping another cry out of you. A big hand splayed onto your lower back kept you pinned to the bed, the bed sheets grazing your nipples, the friction adding up to the stimulation, making you roll your eyes back into your skull. You buried your face in the pillow, biting down on it to muffle your screams. Simon pressed his chest to your back, reaching under you to circle your swollen clit with his forefinger, making your screams raise in volume. “Hush, Hush, baby…” he whispered, his breathing laboured. “Come on…I know you can do it, just one more for me, yeah? I know you can take it, pretty girl. Cum on my cock, y/n, be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

His goading words were your undoing, your squirt coating his lower abdomen as you came one more time, screaming out Simon’s name like a prayer, hot tears lining your cheeks as the overwhelming orgasm crashed through you like a merciless, powerful wave. Your walls squeezed him so tight Simon met his release as well, hot cum spurting out of him in thick ropes as he unloaded himself inside of you. His hips stuttered from the sheer force of it, and he gulped, breathing heavily as you both rode out your high.

You were completely wrecked, flat on your stomach, feeling your mixed juices leak out of your hole once Simon had unsheathed himself. He quickly ran to the bathroom, dampening a towel under some lukewarm water, coming right back to the bedroom to clean you up, his touch surprisingly tender after the rough session. When you were all nice and clean, he climbed back onto the bed, putting a strong arm over your limp, and spent body to pull you into his side. He gently manoeuvred you so he was spooning you, nuzzling his nose into your hair, pressing it to the nape of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, mixed with sweat and after sex pheromones.

You cuddled up to his chest, a tired hum leaving your lips, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy. “That was…that was some reunion.” You said, your voice weak and feeble. Simon chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “Told you I had to properly show you how much I had missed you, baby,” he said. “And I’m on leave for the next three weeks. I’m not done with you yet.”

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 5

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day five: blindfold; forced orgasm. You can find all my stories on my wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Boyfriend!Simon)

cw: oral (m receiving), sensorial deprivation, unprotected piv, forced breeding

word count: 1680

a/n: a little rushed because I have to go to a big party and can't post from there lol

He had been thinking about the perfect anniversary gift for you for the last three months. Clothes? Basic. Lingerie? Sexy but he would've looked like a creep. Plushies? Your room was already drowning in them. Books? Same things. He spent his lunch breaks checking website after website, yet he couldn't find the perfect gift. He knew he probably shouldn't be rocking his brains over this, but five years was an important milestone, so he thought it deserved a proper symbolic celebration.

A promise ring? Simon imagined a future with you, he was sure he had found his wife from the moment he'd met you, but to ask for your hand in marriage now seemed a bit too rushed. You both still had a lot of things to figure out on your own. A promise ring sounded perfect, a reminder that he would stay by your side and support you as long as you had him, but not something as final as an engagement ring. A simple white gold band, with small sapphires running along the whole circumference, since it was your favourite stone.

You had decided for an intimate dinner at your place, feeling like playing chef for the night, you had spent the whole day perfecting the right sauce to put on the steak, almost burned down your apartment complex when you forgot the truffled carrots in the oven, but the second batch luckily survived. Garlic bread in a cheesy dip for starters, handmade pasta with a plain buttery sauce, then the stake and carrots. You had even handmade the menus, using your fanciest handwriting and tracing every letter with care. Everything was ready, the bread lying in a pretty basket in the middle of the table, a bottle of expensive red wine right next to it. You hadn't exactly bought a gift for the occasion, because what you had in mind for Simon was far more...original.

"Baby!" You threw your arms around his neck when you opened the front door, Simon standing there with his best dress shirt and slacks, a black tie cutting down his broad chest. He carried a small gift bag and a bouquet of wildflowers (you weren't much of a roses girl). "Hey, pretty girl," he chuckled, his voice smooth and warm as he encircled your waist with one strong arm, placing a chaste kiss against your temple. "So you really weren't kidding when you said you would've been the chef tonight, hm? Smells bloody amazing in here."

The two of you had a lovely dinner, talking about your day, the small living room of your flat filled with laughter and the clinking of your glasses as you chatted and drank away. Despite all the food you had cooked, by the time you finished the last course, a pleasant buzz made your head feel lighter. You lounged on the couch, nursing your wine glass between your slim fingers as you watched Simon wash the dishes, sleeves rolled-up, exposing his thick forearms. The sight made you bite down on your bottom lip, anticipation making your body tingle.

Once all the dishes were on the drying rack, Simon made his way back to you on the couch, folding a leg under himself before he sat down. He leaned with his shoulder against the backrest, facing you. "Would you like to see your gift now, love?" He asked, his voice a gentle purr as he reached for the bag on the coffee table. "Now, now," you stopped him, reaching out with your hand, gently guiding his hand, still mid-air, back on his lap. "I appreciate the thought, but I would really like to give you mine first." Simon raised a bushy brow, a puzzled expression etched over his features as he relaxed into the cushions. He fixed his stance, now sitting normally, eyes fixed on you as you got up. "I'll have to take this, thank you." You chirped, bending over to undo the knot of his tie, making it slide off his neck.

You grinned, a mischievous glint in your gaze as you carefully tied back the tie, this time, around his head, covering his eyes. Simon opened his mouth to speak, but you silenced any of his questions with a quick peck on the lips. "It's a big surprise, babe. Can't risk having you ruin it." You swiftly took a few steps back, suppressing a snort when you saw Simon press his lips together, aimlessly moving his head from one side to the other as he awkwardly patted his thighs. You slowly started to peel your dress off, sliding the straps of your dress down your arms, followed by the skimpy little lace thong.

Standing naked, you gingerly made your way back to the couch. "y/n?" Simon called out, sensing your presence as he caught a whiff of your sweet perfume. "Can...can I take this off now?" You shook your head, then, remembering he was blindfolded, you spoke up. "Sorry, not yet." You denied with a sweet voice, leaning forward to place your hands on his thighs, smiling when he involuntarily winced. "Realx, Simon." You commanded, gently coaxing his legs apart. Your knees found the rough wooden floorboards, nimble fingers working the buckle of his belt, consequently pushing down the zipper. Simon cooperated, lifting his hips a bit when you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his slacks, sliding them down with his boxer briefs.

The simple thought of what you were about to do to him had him standing erect, his heavy cock springing free, hitting his abdomen. His tip was oozing with precum, making you lick your lips in anticipation. "So eager already?" You cooed, giggling when his cheeks grew a pretty shade of pink. "P-Please, y/n..." Simon hissed between gritted teeth. "Please what?" You prompted, looking up at his covered eyes, his mouth slightly agape as his breathing picked up. "Touch me...please." He could feel your hand, hovering a breath away from his length, teasing him with the heat radiating off your body. You chuckled, finally answering his pathetic pleas by circling his shaft with your lithe hand, feeling his dick twitch in your hold.

"F- Oh, fuck!" Simon groaned deeply when you wrapped your lips around his rosy tip, slowly lowering your head until he was halfway inside your mouth. A hand wrapped around the edge of the leather couch, the other fisting your soft hair in a makeshift ponytail. "So good...you're so good, baby. Think you can take all of me?" You hummed 'yes', the vibration running along his sensitive length and making him groan again. Coaxed by his gentle guidance, you relaxed your throat until his blonde pubes tickled the tip of your nose. "Fuck...that's right, good girl." He purred.

You slowly started to bob your head up and down, moaning around his fat cock to send delicious vibrations that turned him on even more, making him throb in your mouth. You had to use your hand as well to keep a proper pace, stroking him and alternating it with more circular motions. You looked up at him from your spot on the floor from time to time, enjoying the way his parted lips released ragged breaths and soft moans, the blindfold still resting over his eyes. "y/n...baby, don't stop." He suddenly hissed, his voice harsher, his hand on your head guiding you up and down faster, and you matched it with the strokes of your hand. Soon, Simon's hips stuttered, a low growl rumbling in his chest before your name followed in a string of prayers, hot ropes of cum being shot right down your throat, filling you with the familiar salty taste.

Your lips released him with a wet pop, and you swallowed his cum as you watched him catch his breath. Poor thing, you thought, you weren't done yet. His dick still stood straight and proud, the release you weren't able to clean off still coating his shaft. "Lovie, can I take this-" A strained groan left his lips, breath hitching as you suddenly climbed onto his lap, caging him with a thigh on either side of him. "No, no, y/n, what are you- shit..." Simon hissed, feeling your gummy walls envelop his cock, twitching with another impending load.

You finally freed him of the blindfold, his wide brown eyes meeting yours, looking speechless as you descended all the way, his sensitive tip kissing your cervix. Smirking, you tied his tie around your neck, letting it sit between your breasts, then started to slowly move your hips. "Baby...I'm gonna cum again if you keep it up, I-I..."

"Cum for me, Simon." You whispered, cradling his face in your hands before you placed a kiss on his lips. "Cum inside me, please. It's your gift." Simon's eyes lit up for a moment, but he still seemed sceptic. You deepened the kiss, silencing his doubts as you started to ride him faster, your ass slapping against his muscular thighs, making the loosened belt clank. "B-Baby..." he was begging, blunt nails digging into the fat on your hips, leaving red crescents. "I-I don't think I..."

"Yes you can, Simon," you purred into his ear. "Cum inside me." He took one of your tits into his hand, guiding it to his face before latching his lips onto your erect nub. You moaned, tipping your head back as heat quickly pooled in your belly. "Gonna...'m gonna..." The knot snapped, your walls clenching his cock so tight he couldn't help but release another heavy load deep inside you, both of you moaning out the other's name in your shared orgasm.

You rested your forehead on his shoulder, feeling his dick twitching slightly as he went soft inside of you, your cream mixing with his cum and leaking onto your inner thighs and his lap. Simon was completely spent, breath ragged as he leaned against the backrest of the couch. You peppered a few tender kisses over the side of his neck, a hand rubbing his chest as you both came back to your senses. "That was...well, definitely original. You surely caught me off guard, lovie." You chuckled, raising your eyes back on his flushed face, grinning.

"Can I open my present now?" 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 4

Followin @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day four: food play; biting/marks; drunk sex (they were all too good to not make a story with all of them). You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Husband! Simon)

cw: Simon is obsessed with his wife (as he should), oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected piv, creampie

word count: 2628

a/n: this is my longest one yet, but trust me, it's WORTH IT

No one would've ever pinned Lieutenant Simon Riley for a romantic, not even you when you had first met him, really, yet you couldn't deny that your husband was full of surprises. The day you said "I do" at the altar, you didn't just get married to Simon, but to his job, too. And now, said job was the culprit behind your delayed honeymoon.

A dangerous mission had taken Task Force 141 somewhere in South America for two whole months, eight weeks in which you had barely received any updates from your husband from burner phones that made him sound like he was talking through a brick. Still, Simon never thought he would be grateful for a near-death experience, but apparently there's always a first time for everything. The mission had taken place in Costa Rica and, even though he was sent to the nasty part of it, he had been able to catch a glimpse of the crystal clear water, beautiful beaches, and the opportunities that the country had to offer to civilian tourists.

As soon as he came home to you, he had bought two plane tickets, but since his trip-planning skills were fairly limited, he hoped to make it up to you by booking the honeymoon suite at the fanciest all-inclusive resort he could find; also, he couldn't risk having you seeing the same atrocities he had while on mission.

Simon wasn't exactly the most tactful guy, so he didn't really provide any explanation when he tossed onto the bed the envelope with the two tickets inside, just a gruff "we're leaving in two days" and then he was out of the bedroom, leaving your confused, half-asleep form babbling like a fish out of the water.

You never pinned your husband for a romantic, but you couldn't have been any happier when, as you walked down the hotel's hallway to your suite, he picked you up bridal style, his heart melting at the sound of your sweet giggles, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you over the threshold of your room. Lucious, spacious, opening onto a small living room, an arched entryway led to the bedroom - and you wondered just how many people could fit in that gigantic bed - which was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, a wooden balcony extending outside, with an opening onto your very own personal pool, and the ocean right next to it. There was also a bathtub in the bedroom, and your heart clenched with sympathy for the cleaning ladies, what they had to see- and definitely what they would see after your stay.

The staff had left a fruit basket on the bed, a little note that you were now cradling between your fingers where they expressed their gratitude for choosing their establishment and wished their best to your marriage, and a bottle of expensive champagne. "How about we wait tonight to celebrate?" Simon asked, his voice a low purr next to your ear as he encircled your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "How about you put on one of those sexy bikinis you packed and we go enjoy the free bar, hm?" You didn't have to be told twice before eagerly agreeing, "free bar" was possibly your favourite combination of words in the English language.

You decided on a plain black bikini, with two small golden chains that ran along the underside of your breasts, and a small golden pendant that hung off the side of your bikini bottoms. Simon was wearing matching black swimming trunks, his sculpted chest carrying battle scars, tattoos lining his left forearm, ink-stained skin that you ran your fingers on countless times, memorising every line and curve. You loved Simon's body, just like every other part of him, but sometimes you forgot that he didn't exactly look like a civilian, with his crooked nose and the silver scar cutting over his bottom lip. He didn't care about the dirty side-eyed glances he received from the people that crowded the beach; as long as he had those big eyes of yours looking up at him with love, like he hung the moon and the stars, he was happy.

"How much did you pay for the whole thing anyway?" You asked, sipping on your second - perhaps third - margarita, sitting at one of the high stools that surrounded the beach bar, your feet dipped in the water. "Eh, don't even remember," Simon lied. "But I had been saving a small sum on the side for our honeymoon." Your lips curled up in a warm smile, eyes twinkling and filled with love, even as you watched your 6'4", 250+lbs husband sip on some pink fruity cocktail.

The sun was setting, so you decided to head back to your suite to get ready for dinner. How you were going to achieve that was still unclear, since you were both fairly tipsy, your arm secured around his as you couldn't stop giggling. The moment the door closed behind you, Simon picked you up effortlessly, a small squeak leaving your mouth as the room started spinning around you. "Simon, we should-" your thought was interrupted by Simon's lips, catching yours into a scorching kiss, tongue impatiently running along your bottom lip, seeking entrance, which you immediately granted, letting him delve deeper, coaxing a moan.

A growl rumbled in his chest, fingers digging in the supple flesh of your ass, pressing you against his chest impossibly closer. "Fuck the dinner," he whispered against your lips, his breath still carrying the liquor. "I need my wife." Before you could realise what was happening, your back hit the mattress, and soon Simon's weight followed as he settled himself between your thighs, caging you to the bed with two large hands on either side of your head. "And since the hotel staff was so kind..." he reached for one of the strawberries that laid in the fruit basket. "I have everything I need right here. A tasty meal," - he ran the strawberry down to the valley of your breasts, making you gasp - "and dessert." He said, sporting a cocky smirk as he brought the strawberry to his lips and bit into it.

He placed the unbitten part of the fruit between his lips, now tinted a faintly darker shade of pink, and he lowered his head. You met him halfway, snatching the strawberry with your own teeth before letting yourself fall back against the pillows. Simon watched you eat, brown irises almost eclipsed by his pupils, dilated by lust and the desire to fuck you stupid, the alcohol making his fingers itch to touch you even more. "What?" You asked, amused. He shook his head. "Just thinking about the ways I'm going to ruin you, my love." He whispered, running a hand over your bikini top, catching the small golden chain with his index finger, making you shudder with anticipation.

You never stopped being his good girl, so pliant under his touch as he undid the knots of your bikini top, discarding it onto the floor, and moved to remove your bottoms, so you lifted your hips to help him slide them down your legs. The both of you were still a little hazy, drunken giggles mixing with your breathy gasps, every touch of his fingers making your skin come alive with goosebumps. Simon took a moment to lean back and admire your naked form, the dips and curves he's memorised through the ears with every part of his body. He reached for the basket again. "Now I need you to stay still, love." He ordered with a purr, fetching some grapes, placing them in a neat line from your collarbone to your lower abdomen.

You kept your head and neck movements to a minimum, your eyes carefully following the way his fingers placed the little green grapes with care across your bare skin. A small chuckle made your chest stutter with mirth, causing one of the fruits to fall onto the mattress. Simon's eyes darkened in warning. "I said don't move, love. Or I'll have to punish you." Your eyes widened at the quietly-spoken threat, lips pressed together to suppress any unwanted sound or twitch of your body. When everything was in place, Simon slowly started to eat the grapes, lips closing around it and leaving a wet, warm mark on your body.

Once he'd caught the one that laid between your breasts, your chest suddenly caved as he proceeded to pepper the sensitive, supple flesh with more kisses, lips closing in on one of your erect nipples, making you hiss in pleasure. "Simon-" you called out with a moan. "Don't. Move." He growled, giving your other nipple a gentle pinch with his teeth, coaxing a whimper. As he continued his path down your torso, you couldn't help the giggle that involuntarily slipped past your lips when he caught the grape he'd placed on your navel, the swipe of his tongue tickling you. His large hands secured around your spread thighs, he gave them a punitive, bruising squeeze. "S- Sorry!" You squeaked meekly, earning a displeased hum from him as he chewed.

Finally, he reached the last one, and you almost bucked your hips upwards, body sizzling with anticipation. "Patience, my love," he whispered, hot breath fanning across your hooded clit as he swallowed the final grape. "Fuck..." you mewled, back arching away from the bed when he pressed his tongue flat onto your drenched slit, lapping up the arousal that had collected between your folds. He moaned, the vibration he sent against your pussy making you see stars. The alcohol in your system made you even more sensitive, your hole weeping with juices that leaked onto Simon's face, covering his lips and chin with a glistening coat.

"You taste so good, my love...fuck," he murmured, peppering your puffy lips with kisses. "So wet already, I can't wait to stretch that tiny hole with my cock." His words made you shudder, an incoherent babble leaving your mouth. "Hm? What was that, lovie?" He prompted, a wolfish grin on his face as he looked up at you through hooded eyes and bushy blonde brows. "Need...cock..." You managed to utter, hands fisting the pristine sheets as he kept his assault onto your sensitive cunt.

"Such a desperate little girl, you." He chuckled, circling your needy hole with the tip of his finger. "I know that you turn naughty after a few drinks but Jesus, baby, you're filthy tonight." His dirty talk made you chase his teasing finger with your hips, and he cooed, finally obliging to your silent plea and pushing his fore and middle finger into your needy entrance. You gasped, eyes wide open before you squeezed them shut again, He kept sucking onto your swollen and sensitive clit as he scissored against your gummy walls, stretching you out to accommodate him later. You were a squirming, moaning mess, leaking onto the bed sheets, leaving wet splotches, as you felt the heat coil in your stomach, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Simon...'m gonna..." A frustrated cry followed, as Simon withdrew his fingers and pulled away, making you prop yourself up on your elbows, brows furrowed in a scowl as he got up from the bed. "What the f-" you were silenced when he shoved his cock past your lips with one long thrust, balls hitting your chin as he buried himself in your throat. "That's it," he praised. "Good girl, take it all in that pretty mouth of yours." Hand fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail, Simon fucked your face with deliberate thrusts, making sure you would coat the whole length of his shaft with your saliva. He grunted your name, chest heaving with ragged breaths, and he had to stop before he accidentally came in your mouth; he was more sensitive when he was drunk, but he wanted to enjoy the night to its fullest

Your lips made a soft 'pop' when Simon unsheathed himself, a string of drool still connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock. You looked up at your husband, doe-eyed, as he caught his breath. "Good girl, y/n, look at this," he held his member with one large hand. "Can't wait to fuck you stupid, love." A giddy grin grew on your lips, and you settled back onto the bed, eagerly waiting for him, but you saw him move away instead. "Si-"

"Easy, love, I'm just putting these in a safer location." He reassured you, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed the fruit basket and the bottle of champagne onto the desk. "Though I like seeing you like this, so desperate for my cock." You merely suppressed a pathetic whimper, cheeks glowing red at his filthy words. He made his way back, putting one knee after the other, mattress dipping under his weight as he ventured one again between your thighs. "Sorry for the delay, my love," he whispered, lips skimming the sensitive side of your throat. "But I wanted our honeymoon to be perfect, to make sure I could show you exactly how I'll treat you for the rest of our lives."

His teeth sank into the thin flesh, just as his tip entered your weeping hole, your breath taken away inch after inch. Simon growled, biting down harder until he kissed your cervix, fully buried inside you. "Oh fuck, Simon-" you hissed at the delicious ache caused by the stretch, the heels of your feet pressing down on his ass to somehow get him even deeper. "What a greedy little thing you are, y/n," he murmured, chasing away the sting of his bite, running a flat tongue over the deep red mark. "Already full of my cock yet you want more, hm? We'll see about that."

You weren't sure if sex could get you drunk, but it surely looked like you were drunk off your husband's relentless fucking, his merciless thrusts making your pussy release the the filthiest squelching sounds, his lower abdomen covered in your squirt, the room filled with your voiced pleasure as he held you in a mating press, knees bent at your ears. Simon had his hands secured on the back of your legs, hips angled so he could drive his hungry dick as deep inside you as possible, a proud smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, your neck and breasts covered in red and purple-ish marks. He wasn't exactly thinking about the fact that you would have to walk around practically half naked for the next two weeks; clearly, it wasn't really one of his concerns right now.

"Simon," you called out, your hands curling around his forearms, neatly manicured nails sinking into his skin. "Please, please, please, 'm gonna cum...please!" Simon welcomed your plea, keeping the exact same pace that was driving you over the edge, and felt your gummy walls clenching his length almost painfully as the orgasm wrecked through you, making you scream out his name. Your muscles were squeezing him so tight Simon couldn't really hold on much longer, his own orgasm finding release deep inside your warm cunt, the spasms of your womb drinking his cum greedily as he grunted your name.

Silence fell once you had both rode out your high, a low, pleased hum leaving his lips as he unsheathed himself, consequently collapsing onto the bed next to you. You were both sweaty and spent, yet too tired to get up to wash yourselves. "Simon?" You called out softly after a couple of silent minutes. "Hm?" He replied lazily. "Are we going to spend every day like this?" You asked. "Oh, for sure." He chuckled, snaking a hand around your waist to bring you into his chest, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. "Good."

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not copy, translate and/or share on this on another platform without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 3

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day three: foreplay. You can find all the stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(professor!Simon x student!reader) (college!au) (age gap)

"Miss l/n, a word?" Professor Riley's gravelly voice made you stop in your tracks, the other students walking past you on their way out of the classroom. Books held tight against your chest between folded arms, your eyes met his. "Yes, professor?" You managed to ask meekly. Your feet brought you towards his desk as he beckoned you closer with a wiggle of his finger.

The rolled-up sleeves of his white dress shirt gave way to the prominent veins that ran along his forearms, bulging underneath the blonde hairs, muscles taut as he leaned against the dark, polished wood with one big, scarred hand. Simon had left the rank of Lieutenant to take up on the role of college professor, teaching criminal psychology.

"You're falling behind, y/n," he stated bluntly, chin tipped low as he still had some inches on you. "You're the most brilliant student of this course, and midterms are approaching, it would be a real shame to give you a bad grade, knowing you can do a lot more." You sighed, aware of the undeniable truth behind his words. "I know," you mumbled looking down at your feet. "And I'm sorry, Mr. Riley. I'm aware, and I know it's totally out of character for me, but a lot of private matters have come up all of a sudden and it's hard to keep up with everything."

Simon let out a low hum after hearing your explanation, trying to ignore the way you nervously chewed on your bottom lip to release the tension in your nerves. "I see," he simply said. "Still, I don't want to see your potential go to waste, and I'm not usually one to offer a preferential lane, but you are a really bright young woman, so I'm willing to offer an arrangement." Your eyes snapped up to meet his again, lips parted as you held your breath, anticipation coiling in your stomach. "How about this: I'll wait for you in my office, at 4 this afternoon. I'll give you an hour and a half to write an essay on a topic of my choice from the course, so we can try and fix that grade of yours, yeah?"

Your eyes lit up at the offer, a relieved sigh leaving your lips as they curled up in a smile. "I'm absolutely willing to do everything I can to prove my worth, Mr. Riley. Thank you very much for the offer, I'll be there." A twitch touched Simon's lips for all of a heartbeat, giving you a curt nod of his hand as you bid your goodbye, his eyes locked on the way the hem of your skirt barely covered your ass, bouncing side to side with every step, making him adjust himself in his slacks once you had closed the door.

At 4:00pm sharp, you knocked on the door to professor Riley's office, hand hovering over the handle as you waited for his permission. "Come." You heard a gruff voice coming from the other side, so you welcomed yourself in. "Ah, Miss l/n, please." Simon gestured towards the leather chair across from his, eyes not leaving his laptop, the screen creating a blue reflection on his glasses. "I'm answering an email, I'll be with you in a moment."

You sat down, placing your bag at the feet of the chair, folding your hands in your lap as you patiently waited, taking in the spartan décor of his office. Simon eventually cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "So," he began. "What I want you to do now, is to write a thousand-word long essay on phrenology. You remember F. J. Gall, right? And what I'm asking you to particularly focus on, is the influence his theory had on the justice system of the 19th century. Think you can do that for me?" You listened to his instructions attentively, and nodded. "Yes, I...I think I can do that. I have until 5:30, right?" He nodded his head. "90 minutes starting from the first letter you type onto the document, which you will later share with me. Remember, if you have any doubts or you can't remember some details, I'm here to help."

The first thirty minutes were easy, nimble fingers tapping away on the keyboard of your laptop as Simon graded some papers, but you soon started to feel the fatigue grow on you, slowly blinking to put the words on the screen into focus, eyes so tired you felt like your retinas were sizzling. He noticed, of course, the way your eyelids were starting to feel heavier, so he cleared his throat, startling you as your doe eyes shot an apologetic look his way, a sweet shade of pink growing onto your cherub cheeks. Another five minutes passed and you started to lose focus again, so Simon decided to take the matter into his own hands.

He slowly got up from his chair, going around his desk until he was behind you. You didn't follow his movements with your eyes, but you were highly aware of his presence looming behind you, making you swallow the lump in your throat as you kept typing your essay. "Now you're going to listen to me, y/n," his husky voice ghosted the shell of your ear, making you shiver, thighs clenching involuntarily. "I believe I'll have to resort to more...let's say, drastic measures, to keep you focused." You could hear the smirk in his voice, warm lips grazing the side of your throat, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes back. "Just know that I'll stop if you get too distracted."

His whispered threat was enough to make you suppress a whimper, but you managed to nod your head, not trusting yourself enough to actually speak up and risking sounding like the most pathetic little thing ever. Simon let out a pleased hum, and you winced when he placed his hands on your shoulders. "Oh, poor little thing," he cooed, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Already so sensitive and I still haven't touched you."

You were pretty sure his ultimate goal was to torture the shit out of you, fingers twitching over the keyboard as you gathered all your will to keep writing your essay. Long fingers initiated a tantalising path down your chest, digits picking up the warmth of your flushed skin through the thin fabric of your blouse. "Mr. Riley-" "Hush, girl. I said no distractions." You swallowed, waiting for the inevitable as his fingers soon reached your breasts, noticing the absence of a bra to cover the supple flesh. "Oh, you naughty little thing," he growled, barely suppressing his own arousal, pressing painfully against his slacks. He mentally reminded himself that he had to take it slow, and the day he would finally bury himself deep within you would come soon, just not today. "You know, I might get jealous, thinking how many other boys have seen you like this today. But they wouldn't even know what to do with you if given the chance, trust me."

Simon cupped the underside of your breasts with his palms, bringing each thumb and forefinger to pinch your rigid nipples, making your chest cave, deprived of all oxygen. Your finger slipped onto the key, causing you to misspell a word, and a pained yelp left your lips as he gave your sensitive nubs a punitive squeeze. "Better correct it right away, love. You don't want me to stop so soon, right?" You vehemently shook your head, tipping your head back to give him a pleading, doe-eyed look. A smirk danced on his lips, fingers working the buttons of your blouse done as you resumed your work.

He kept playing with your breasts, goosebumps blooming across your flushed skiing as he alternated between feather-light and rougher touches. Then Simon ventured further down, leaving a trail of fire wherever his hands came in contact with your body, finally creeping under your skirt and between your thighs. When he brushed against your covered heat, he clicked his tongue upon feeling the drenched fabric of your panties. "So wet for me already," he spoke in a raspy voice, teeth grazing your earlobe. "You think I don't notice? The way you look at me in class? Biting on your pen, wishing it was my fat cock between those pretty lips of yours?"

Your breath stuttered when the cool air of his office hit your bare pussy, your underwear collected under his ring finger and pinky, so the other three fingers could tease you. Simon collected some of the slick between your folds with his thumb, then slid it up to your hooded clit, teasing it in slow circular motions, making you instinctively close your legs, but his free hand was quicker. "Don't you dare." He hissed in your ear, ignoring your whimpers and the twitches of your body, forcing your thighs apart with a bruising grip. "Mr. R-Riley..." you moaned softly, head lolling forward, hands trembling on the keyboard. "Focus, love. And it's Simon, by the way."

Between muffled moans and your arching back, you were somehow managing to work through the pleasure-induced fog in your brain as Simon's fingers pumped into your drenched cunt, filthy squelching sounds filing the small office as your gummy walls squeezed his digits, driving him deeper inside you. His lips were latched onto the side of your throat, a hand kneading your breast, adding heat to the knot tightening in your stomach, creating a delicious pressure at the level of your navel. "S- Simon, I'm almost-" you panted out.

"Yeah?" He hummed with a cruel grin. "Almost what? Gonna cum all over my fingers before you're done with your essay? Oh, poor thing, I'm afraid I can't let you. Duty first, right? But I gotta give it to you, I didn't think you could resist for so long." A frustrated whimper left your lips when his pace slowed down, denying your aching clit of any stimulation as he deliberately drove his fingers in and out of you, alternating some scissoring motions at most.

You were almost done anyway, so you forced yourself to make a tour de force to finish the last paragraph as fast as possible, but sometimes Simon brushed his thumb over your clit, or pinched your nipple, making you gasp for air as he chuckled at your struggles. When you typed out the final period, you couldn't even get the word "done" out of your lips before Simon's fingers resumed their merciless pace, hand leaving your breast to clamp it over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Good girl," he purred. "See? Not that hard when you have the right motivation." You could only babble some muffled nonsense against his palm, hot tears lining your eyes, legs hanging off the armrests of the chair, arched back and eyes squeezed shut. It wasn't long before the knot snapped, the strongest orgasm you've ever had wrecking through you and making you quake, creaming and squirting all over your professor's fingers, crying out his name over and over like a prayer.

Once you rode out your high, Simon fetched the box of paper tissues from his desk, wiping his hands dry of your fluids before he gently cleaned the mess you left between your thighs. "Sorry..." you mumbled meekly, watching him clean your squirt off the leather chair and the side of his desk. "No need to apologise, love," he reassured you gently. "Besides, you needed a proper reward for your hard work, no?"

After you had fixed your clothes and checked the camera of your phone to make sure you were somewhat presentable despite your flushed cheeks, you sent him your essay before you packed everything back in your bag, collecting it from the ground and slinging the strap back over your shoulder. "I'll be on my way, then." You said, awkwardly standing next to the door as Simon sat at his desk, typing on his computer as if nothing had happened.

"Of course," he said. "I'll grade your essay and send my feedback as soon as possible. Oh, and, Miss l/n-" he turned his head to you, brown eyes holding an amused glint and a hint of desire. "Please do visit my office again if you need some more help focusing on your schoolwork."

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not copy, steal or upload to this or other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 2

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day two: deep throating; wet dream; cum eating (couldn't decide between these either lol). You can find all the stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

Insomnia. Simon’s worst enemy yet most trusted companion of many years. The skull mask he always wore, apart from the various other functions it was useful for, it also helped to cover the deep dark circles and puffy eyebags. Mind plagued by horrible reminisces, regrets, thoughts of what he could’ve done better to change the outcome of his tragedy-ridden life: horrors buried deep within threatened to make their appearance whenever he closed his eyes. All he could hope for were short, one, two-hours long naps scattered throughout the day, overworking himself with either paperwork or in the gym until he collapsed on the bed and managed to give way to his exhaustion, which granted him a dreamless sleep.

Sometimes, you would share a cigarette with your Lieutenant during the silent hours of the night, sharing a similar disease, painful memories coming back to the surface, ridding you of the very much needed rest that helped your body get through the hard job that was being a part of an elite Task Force. Either of you rarely talked, preferring the comfortable silence that enveloped you like a glass dome, scared it would shatter if the wrong word came out, destroying the established peace.

This night was different, though. Pushing the heavy metal door open, you let your breath create a small cloud of condensation and float up in the empty night. Stuffing your cold hands in the pockets of your puffer jacket, you made your way down the stairs, where Simon already sat, turned around on one side so he could lean back against the wall. He still had to bend his legs a bit, limbs so long they would hang off the edge of the step. You occupied the step above his, on the opposite side, so you could lay back against the metal railing. He was already smoking, the ember tip of his cigarette glowing a bright cherry red in the darkness, only a tired bulb on the wall providing a dim yellow halo around you.

He nodded his head in greeting when you were fully settled, and you replied with the same gesture, fetching the pack of cigarette and lighter from your pocket. As the white stick limply hung between your lips, you struggled with your lighter, thumb vigorously working the metal roller but nothing other than sad sparks came out. “Fuck.” You cursed under your breath, groaning as you tapped the bottom of the lighter on the step, to no avail. “Here, let me.” His gravelly voice broke into the night as he slightly came forward, extending his arm. You did the same, expecting him to give it to you so you could do it yourself, but he gently pushed away your hand with his, then proceeded to light your cigarette, a lively flame dancing in front of your eyes for all of two seconds.

You murmured a soft “thank you”, then silence fell between the two of you again. Simon was already on his second cigarette when you stubbed yours onto the metal railing. “Hey, Lt., I just remembered I had something for you.” You suddenly spoke up, making his eyes snap to you, watching with silent curiosity as you rummaged through the pockets of your jacket once again. You successfully retrieved a small bottle, and he saw something that looked like purple gummies dance inside the plastic cylinder as you gently rattled it. “It’s melatonin gummies,” you eventually explained. “I know many people say it’s bullshit, and I actually shared the same belief, until I tried them. They’re not as potent as sleeping pills, of course, but after an exhausting day, I pop two of these bad boys twenty minutes before I lie down, and I’m out cold.”

You threw the bottle towards him, and Simon effortlessly caught it with one hand. “You’re out cold, huh?” He asked, the fabric of his balaclava wrinkling on his forehead, signalling his brows were most likely furrowed with scepticism. He never removed his mask, not even during moments of tranquillity like these, only rolling it up so it would rest on the bridge of his nose and allow him to smoke. “Never trusted holistic bullshit,” he commented gruffly. “But for the sake of it, I’ll try them. Worst that can happen anyway is that I won’t sleep. Thank you, Sergeant.” Your lips curled up in a victorious smile when you saw him but the bottle in his pocket.

You eventually wished each other goodbye and parted ways. On the way back to his quarters, Simon’s hand kept toying with the small container inside his pocket, trying to divert his thoughts towards a direction that wasn’t the image of your pink lips holding the cigarette and the way his lighter created two small dancing flames in your eyes when he’d lit it up for you.

He had started to develop weird fantasies during your latest encounters, fictitious pictures of your lips wrapped around his cock, sweet tears spilling from your eyes as he drove himself deeper down your throat being conjured by his traitorous mind. Not that he would ever act on any of it, but sometimes he found himself entertaining those thoughts, in the solitude of his shower, hot water running down his body, soothing his sore muscles as he violently fisted his cock. If the options were either sleep a possible nightmare-filled sleep, or staying awake and pathetically jerking off to you, he would very gladly choose the first option.

He stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, looking at his shirtless figure, the tattoos and scars marring his skin, his slightly crooked nose, the dark circles under his brown eyes, blonde hair still damp and messy from the shower. Then, he looked down at the bottle of melatonin gummies in his hand and thought “fuck it”, taking two and putting them in his mouth, a vague taste of something chemical and raspberry-flavoured invading his mouth.

He didn’t know how long he had been lying in bed, restlessly tossing over every few minutes, but it had definitely been more than twenty minutes. “Fucking gummies,” he thought to himself with mild irritation. “Not even a fucking placebo works on me.” Suddenly, his grumpy thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

He reluctantly got out of bed with a grunt, treading down the cold floor barefooted as he walked to the door. His mood immediately changed the moment his eyes fell down on you, wearing nothing but a flimsy tank top and matching short shorts. “Sergeant,” he greeted gruffly, trying not to look at your necklace and the way it disappeared underneath your top and between your breasts, teasing him with thoughts of following its tantalising path with his tongue down your body. “Can I help you?”

You simply looked him up and down, hooded eyes shamelessly raking over his shirtless body, pearly whites biting down on the plump flesh of your bottom lip, making him wish he was holding it between his own teeth. “Gummies didn’t work tonight.” You said, a hint of innocence in your voice that made Simon shift his weight on his other foot, hoping you wouldn’t notice the inconvenience growing in his grey sweatpants. “Yeah, tell me about it.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You shouldn’t believe everything you see, Sergeant. Being gullible in our field may cost you your life, or the one of your teammates.”

You pressed your lips together, letting out a soft hum as you looked down to the ground, seemingly mulling over a thought in your head, unsure whether to voice it out or not. “Spit it out.” Simon prompted - or rather, ordered - making you gaze up at him again. “Well, I was thinking that there’s an…alternative method, if neither of us can sleep.” The huskiness of your voice and the implication behind your words was enough to make him suppress a groan. “Inside.” He commanded, beckoning you into his room with a firm wave of his hand, maintaining an unreadable expression on his face.

The moment he closed the door behind him, he pointed to the ground. “On your knees.” He instructed. You opened your mouth to express your confusion, but he cut you off. “I’m done with your teasing and fucking innocent act, Sergeant. Now you better get on your fucking knees and fix the problem you created.” And sure enough, as your eyes trailed down his body, you saw the source of his frustration. You didn’t have to be told twice, lowering yourself onto the floor as you simultaneously pulled your hair up in a ponytail with a few quick, skillfully rehearsed motions.

As you knelt before him, you never broke eye contact as you hooked your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants, the bare skin of his lower abdomen indicating he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Faster, Sergeant.” Simon urged impatiently, his breathing already growing heavier with anticipation. Your eyes widened once his hard cock finally sprung free, lips parting as you took in his size. “Shit…” you cursed under your breath, coaxing a soft chuckle and a cocky smirk on the Lieutenant’s lips. Slowly, you parted your lips further, enough to wrap them around the rosy tip of his cock. A growl left his lips, a shiver running down his spine, almost making his sore legs give up on him.

Eyes still locked onto his, you slowly moved your head forward, until the tip went past your uvula and hit the back of your throat; there were still two inches left. Fuck. “Fuck, y/n, look at you,” Simon murumured, a pleased grin stamped onto his face. “You’re taking me so well, love. Breathe through your nose, baby, I know we can make it fit all in that pretty mouth of yours.” You felt your eyes water, your throat burning with the need to cough, but you chased away the gag making your chest shudder, focusing on your breathing. You relaxed your muscles, inhaling deeply, and you felt Simon drive himself deeper, releasing a guttural moan, his head tipping back. “So good and obedient, y/n, look at how you take your Lieutenant’s cock so well.”

With red and bleary eyes, you moaned around his length, the vibration making Simon moan again. Slowly, he began thrusting his hips, a hand curled around your ponytail for leverage. The most horrendous sounds spilled from your lips as he fucked your face at an increasingly faster pace, but they only seemed to spur him further, his movements eventually getting sloppy as he released a load of hot cum down your throat, shoving himself down so deep you felt his balls hit your chin as he trembled with the force of his orgasm.

Taking a deep breath, he unsheathed himself out of your mouth, eyes locked onto your flushed face, and the complacent smirk you were sporting, sticking out your tongue to show him that you had swallowed all of his cum, like the good girl that you were. “You know, I think you were right, Sergeant. I am feeling rather worn out now.” Simon commented with a soft chuckle. You rose back up to your feet. “Always happy to be of service, sir.”

The drilling, obnoxious sound of his alarm made Simon jolt awake, drenched with sweat, hair sticking to his throat. With a frustrated groan, he violently turned off his alarm, sitting up in his bed, head buried in his hands as he tried to understand what the fuck had just happened. He had slept through the whole night, having possibly the most vivid dream ever. Not that he minded, of course, but it left him with an insatiable need to really fuck your face, and a rather incovenient load of cum in his briefs.

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not copy, steal or upload to this or other platforms without credit•

[perfectly-m1saligned]

(Late) K!nktober day 1

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day one: lingerie; first time; degradation. I couldn't decide on one so I simply decided to integrate all three :) You can find all the stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NFSW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(virgin!Simon x experienced!reader) (college!au)

Halloween, the one night of the year where all deeds are excused, for it’s our only chance to let loose, shadows and masks protecting us from the inevitable shame. Or as the Romans said: semel in anno licet insanire. Of course, you were no exception to the cravings of the flesh, putting on the slutties outfit you could produce with the items in your closet, a black and gold mask covering the upper side of your face.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived, thumping bass reverberating through your ribcage and hammering in your ears, the flashing lights installed throughout the room creating a hypnotising succession of dancing limbs on the dance floor. All the people you knew were at the warehouse tonight, an abandoned place - possibly a safety hazard - the youth of your city had basically full control over for Halloween, close to the forest. After a few rounds of greetings and small talk, entirely out of formality, you decided to go to the bar to get the night started. The drink was purple and sparkly, you had no idea what was in it, but the vampire bartender was cute and it tasted like straight up rubbing alcohol when you took a sip out of the straw, so it was perfect.

You walked towards the dance floor, squeezing yourself between the bodies that flooded the room, girls shaking their ass and boys with their hands creeping under their short little dresses; in about five to ten minutes, you would’ve been in their same situation. Drink in hand, you closed your eyes and started to feel the music, and it wasn’t long before a pair of large, strong hands found your waist, coaxing your backside against his front. You didn’t even turn to look who it was. You didn’t care. You started moving your hips, your free hand finding the side of his thigh as you pressed your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans. You felt his fingers curl more firmly around your waist, chest puffing out as if he’d sucked in a sharp breath, the feeling of power swelling in your own chest making you grin.

You eventually turned around, hand snaking around his neck to guide his head level with yours. He was wearing a Ghostface mask, covering the entirety of his face, but the majority of the people around you preferred anonymity. Your lips found his ear: “Let’s get somewhere more private, yeah?” your booze-laced breath proposed, a smirk in your voice. He didn’t answer, simply following your lead when you took his hand in yours. You led him towards the stairs, since the warehouse had an upper floor with some vacant rooms, and hoped you weren’t too late. Couples littered the space, some making out, some not really caring about privacy as a girl was not-so-subtly bouncing up and down on some guy’s dick, his hands secured under her thighs as he held her up and against the wall.

Luckily, you saw two people come out of a room, and you immediately ushered the stranger inside. The full moon outside the large, metal grate-covered window provided the only source of light. You didn’t waste any time, pressing the boy’s back against the wooden door. You hastily pulled his mask up, eyes already shut as your lips met his in a feverish kiss, not giving yourself the time to take a look at his face. Your hands were on his chest, feeling the muscles growing taut under your touch, his fingers settling themselves back on your waist. With a soft, impatient huff, you guided his hand down to the curve your ass, and you felt him stiffen.

“C’mon, what’s wrong with you?” You groaned. “You can’t even-” The words died in your mouth. “Simon?” A pair of sheepish brown eyes looked down at you in sheepish confirmation. “y/n, I’m-” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, I knew you would’ve never even looked my way in any other context, so when I saw you on the dance floor-”

Your best friend, Simon Riley. He’d told you he would’ve stayed at home, since he wasn’t feeling well, but there he was. You had danced with him, and now you had just made out with him. You were aware of his attraction towards you, yet you’d never acknowledge it, and he’d never come forward, as to not ruin your friendship.

“Hush.” You whispered, shutting him up with a quick peck on the lips. “It’s Halloween, Simon, we can do whatever we want for tonight.” You put emphasis on ‘tonight’, reinforcing the finality of your statement; you wouldn’t have talked about it ever again. You grabbed Simon’s hand again, guiding him towards the couch on the far end of the room. You didn’t want to think about the various fluids coating the leather surface, and thankfully you were intoxicated enough to not let your thoughts spiral.

After Simon sat down, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Your lips were back on his in an instant, his hands now more confident as they settled back on your ass, making your already short dress hike up. With a long finger, he felt the string of your thong between your asscheeks, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “God, y/n…” he panted out, breaking the kiss, only for his lips to latch onto the sensitive flesh of your neck. “y/n”, he whispered against your skin, nervousness lacing his voice. “You know that I’ve never…you know, done this.” Right. Simon was a virgin. You simply smiled, hooking a finger under his chin to force him to meet your gaze. “Don’t worry, baby,” you whispered, your mouth only a breath above his. “I’ll teach you.”

Climbing off his lap, you took a step back, starting to peel off the strap of your dress at a torturously slow pace, your eyes never leaving his. As fabric gave way to creamy skin and the black lace of your lingerie, you saw Simon squirm, shifting on the couch every other second to soothe the aching erection in his pants. His chest heaved with increasingly ragged breaths, nails digging into the material of his pants, itching to put his hands on you, or himself.

“Touch yourself, Simon.” You suddenly ordered, making his eyes snap wide. “I want to see how much you like me. Come on, touch yourself.” Simon gulped noticeably, but eventually caved. Trembling hands reached the buckle of his belt, subsequently unzipping his jeans and pulling them down with his boxer briefs, granting his cock some much needed freedom. The tip was already dripping precum, and Simon collected some of it with his thumb, using it as lubricant as he started to move his hand up and down his length with deliberate strokes. You let your dress pool down at your feet, left in nothing but the sheer lingerie, barely covering you, and the mask on your face. He grunted at the sight, lips parting as he fisted his cock more vigorously. “y/n…” he groaned, a pleading look in his brown eyes. “God, p-please…come here.”

You grinned, stopping in between his spread legs. “I need to touch you,” he murmured, still fisting his cock. He leaned forward, nose grazing your lower abdomen, enough to catch a whiff of your scent. “I’m begging you. Fuck, please let me touch you.” You looked down at him, satisfaction and power coursing through your veins. “Give me your hand, Simon.” He gave you his free hand, the one around his shaft momentarily wrapped loosely, too focused on your actions. You pulled your thong to the side, the flimsy triangle of lace easily giving way to your already soaking cunt. The moment you brought Simon’s index finger to collect the slick arousal between your folds, you were sure he was close to cumming all over his hand already.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet.” He said quietly, his warm breath fanning over your bare heat. He lifted his face to meet your gaze, a puppy dog look in those onyx pools of his. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, baby. I want to make you feel good.” A shuddered breath left your lips, a whimper getting choked in your throat when Simon’s thumb brushed over your clit. “Fuck,” you hissed. “Right there.” A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, slowly inserting a finger inside your drenched entrance, coaxing out the sweetest moan. “That’s it, such a pretty little slut. You’re so tight and wet, y/n.” He withdrew his fingers, a wolfish grin on his face at your frustrated whimper. “Come sit on me, pretty girl,” he patted his thigh, dick still hard and ready. “I want to feel your tight pussy around me.” You climbed back on his lap, lifting your hips and putting a hand under yourself to line him up with your centre. “Sure you can handle it, Riley? You’re being a little too smug for my liking.” He obliterated the attitude out of you in one motion, burying himself so deep inside of you, you couldn’t help but cry out. An animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, face buried in the crook of your neck as he shuddered slightly, feeling your warm walls enveloping and squeezing him.

“Ride me, y/n,” he commanded with a raspy whisper. “Be a good slut and milk my cock.” You began moving your hips, his length reaching all the delicious spots inside of you that made your eyes roll back into your skull, coaxing the sexiest moans from your lips. His hands were firmly set on your ass, guiding your movements as you bounced on his dick. Simon lowered his head between your breasts, lips latching onto the soft, sensitive skin and leaving purple marks, as more groans rumbled in his throat.

He moved your hips faster, your motions more frantic and sloppy, purely driven by lust and the need for release. You felt the pleasure starting to coil in your lower belly, the knot getting increasingly tighter, ready to snap. “Fuck, Simon!” You cried out, hands on his shoulders and head tipped back, eyes shut. “That’s it,” he grunted. “Cum with me, y/n.” With a few last, powerful thrusts, you felt your orgasm wreck through your body, making you shudder uncontrollably, screaming out Simon’s name as you creamed all over his cock. He held your waist with a vice-like grip, overwhelmed by his own release, shooting a warm load of cum deep inside you.

There were a few silent minutes in which neither of you spoke a single word, feeling him going soft as he was still inside of you, your ragged breaths and the distant music the only sounds filling the room. Once you came back to your senses, you climbed out of his lap, finding an abandoned box of tissues on the ground to clean yourself up. Pulling your underwear back in place, you retrieved your dress from the ground and put it back on.

“So…this is it, huh?” You heard Simon call out from his spot on the couch. Fixing the strap of your dress, you looked over your shoulder, cocking your head to the side with a sympathetic look in your eyes. “Happy Halloween, Simon.” You simply replied, your heels clicking over the floor as you walked out of the door.

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not copy, steal or upload to this or other platforms without credit•