#call this a drabble

[aughhay]

ohma didn’t really care about the free bed of yours to sleep on tonight. but hey, he heard it’s good manners to gift something back.

nsfw warning!

“mn, oh—mn.. ngh..”

your hands kept clutching deep in the sheets, not any help to your body violently rocking to the bed’s creaky rhythm. ohma wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon, he just wanted to show you how grateful he could be, really! the feeling of your tight, gushing, pretty pink walls just keep pulling him in. his muscular body shadowed over yours, facing your back as he took you from behind with his arms caging your head. you just couldn’t keep control of your self, his manly cock fucking you dumb for the first time as you spew your moans into a pillow.

you wish you could see his face, but you’re just too busy trying not to cum so soon. his grunts and groans will have to do.

“hah.. hah.. hunn..”

you can hear his mighty huffs and puffs as he sits back. the only thing audible are your whimpers when his well-endowed cock slips out of your slick hole. the headboard stops beating on the wall only for a second before his hands are on you, flipping you over on your stomach.

he’s touching you where ever, any place. your soft chest, those cute tits he can’t get enough of just keep being squeezed and groped. he’s just too in love with them, so in love that he forgets everything until he hears your whines and whimpers.

“ohmaaa. back in.. put yr’cock back in..”

“hm?”

“n—need you back inside..”

“…louder.”

first time he ever asked for something in that tone, actually, he wasn’t asking, he was telling you. telling you to be louder so he can see that the woman in front of him really needed him, really needed his body. he needed to see the proof. to see why he should be so thankful.

“shit— fu-fuck m’again ohma.. pleasee don’t tease m’like this.. need that cum..”

you were getting so desperate at this point, so needy for his dick. his cock-head sliding against your folds, giving your sweet hole gooey kisses with his tip. your hips grinding and moving, trying any method to get him back inside. and ohma is just watching, watching the girl that gave him a place to sleep tonight writhe and whine for his cock on that same bed.

but ohma doesn’t have that much of a good patience, he breaks as he finally pushes back inside you with a groan. back to that quick pace inside you with the headboard punching the wall and his cock throbbing again and again inside. you can tell he’s close to climax.

“nghn—.. where?”

“h-huh?”

“where do you want me t’cum?”

“i—inside m’pussy.. pl—please.”

even if ohma didn’t believe a higher power, he thanked them that he wouldn’t have to pull from your warm canal as he continued to pound you. ohma wasn’t the wittiest, but he could tell you were close too. the way you flicked and caressed that pretty clit of yours to your liking, your moans shooting towards him with every vibration.

“ohmaa..”

“‘m gonna cum.. ngnh!— cumming!”

you can tell that cry of his name sent him over the edge, his seed flooding you with a howl as you squirmed. you were now filled with ohma. his breaths heavy as he panted from above. staring into your seemingly hazy eyes.

“..thanks— gnh..”

not the right time for words, but the way your pussy flutters around his cock, he’ll take that as an ‘you’re welcome’.

[softaestluv]

more! | mlist ✎ᝰ.ᐟ

Just thinking about Ghost having a shy, quiet wife. The glaring opposite of Ghost, painted in black and blood while you’re adorned in lace and frills. Smooth skin and delicate flesh, warm eyes and a bashful smile. Soft-spoken and so fucking sweet.

No one else knows about you, or that he’s married, not from lack of wanting people to know he has such a pretty dove waiting for him at home, but because he knows all the men on base would eat you alive.

But one day, he forgets the lunch you made him. It takes everything in you to refrain yourself from driving to base to make sure he has something to eat— you know he doesn’t have the healthiest eating habits.

You choose to message him, something he usually responds fairly quickly to. Always at your beck and call just in case his sweet girl needs him, but he doesn’t answer. Your lips are pinched raw with worry by the time you decide to get in your car.

So, imagine everyone’s surprise when a sergeant interrupts the meeting Ghost’s in— ‘Lieutenant, um, Mrs. Riley is waiting outside for you.’

Ghost is on his feet in an instant, it must be some emergency if you’re there. He rushes to the hallway, everyone else in the room stumbling behind to snoop through the thin crack of the door, see who their big bad Lieutenant is married to.

And there you are, Tupperware container in your manicured hands, white dress covering your frame with matching ribbons and bows in your hair. The look on your face is anxious, right up until you see Ghost, your eyes softening as he approaches you with wide strides despite the fact that he’s twice your size, hulking and threatening.

“Sweet’art, everything okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks, brows furrowing as he does a once over your figure, checking for injury.

You exhale a quiet laugh, “No, baby. You just forgot your lunch, and you didn’t answer your phone so I got worried you would go the whole day without eating.”

He cups your jaw, a smile breaking out on his face. His sergeants are baffled for several reasons— they did not expect their Lieutenant to be married to such a sweet thing, nor had they ever heard their Lieutenant speak in such a soft, hushed tone, never seen him touch something with such care, like you were so fragile in the palms of his hands.

They would’ve thought it was all a joke if it wasn’t for the massive diamond ring on your finger, or the way you pushed deeper into his touch.

“Sorry, dove, just been in a meetin’ all day.”

He stamps a kiss against your lips, lets himself linger just a little longer than he should because he knows the whole room is watching from behind the door.

“Sweetest little wife, aren’t you?”

[kkusuka]

pt. 2

your roommate was a strange man.

can you even really call him a roommate if he's only home for one week every few months? but when he is home, simon riley is a pretty good roommate.

he fixes the heater that's been broken for two months, he replaces the faucet after it drenches you for turning it on too quick, he even takes a look at your car when you mention how your breaks have been squeaking. but other than his penchant for whiskey and the color black, you really don't know much about the man you've been living with for more than a year.

he's in the military, you know that for sure. he works with a team because he tells you that you have a striking resemblance to a man names "soap"? you take that as a compliment even if he didn't really mean it to be one. he wears combat boots even when he's off, you buy him a pair for his birthday that he doesn't take off until soles wear out. but all of these are merely observations, you don't actually know anything about him.

and it's not like you don't try to find out more things about him. you search his name on google- nothing. you ask him about his social media- 'don't got any'. you never ask about family because he never brings them up. all you have is a phone number and the license plate on his beat up dodge charger.

so, getting a call in the middle of the night, three months after you'd last seen simon, about a mission taking a bad turn and simon taking a bullet for an american private. all you really manage to catch after that was the hospital's address and a room number to ask for.

you feel like you're in a trance as you pack yourself an overnight bag, then move to simon's room and just start grabbing the softest clothes you can find and a bunch of snacks from his side of the pantry, then you're off.

you didn't want to see desperate or overly worried about a man whose favorite song you don't know but you're pushing into the high 90s on your way down. and your mind isn't clear until you're standing in front of a tired looking nurse in sanrio scrubs.

"um, i need to get into room 1206?" you barely choke the words out before she's getting up to lead you, "oh! mrs. riley, they told me you were on your way."

"oh-i'm, well" and if you hadn't watch so many hospital shows where they don't let anyone but family into the room you would have just told her the truth, but you just shut your mouth, give her a tight smile, and follow her down the hallway.

the room doesn’t take long to get to, but the door is shut and you can hear the people inside talking. but the nurse doesn't even hesitate to swing the door wide open, "mr. riley, your wife is here."

and then there are four sets of eyes trained on you, but all you can look at is the hulking figure of your roommate sat up in his comically small hospital bed. and all you can muster up is a slight smile and a small wave in his direction before the bags you're holding fly straight onto the floor.

"oh, shoot- i'm sorry. i didn't know if you needed anything so i just grabbed some things from your dresser- and some of those granola bars you like, and there should be a gatorade somewhere in there. and, oh my god, i'm sorry, how are you? i came as soon as they called, and they said you got shot, and-"

"calm down, sweetheart, or yer gonna be the one that needs a hospital bed." ok, simon could still speak that was good, and he was conscious and remembered you.

"i'm sorry. i just got worried, and-" simon knew you well enough to know that you'll worry yourself to death if he lets you keep going, "nothin' to worry about, sweetheart, pull up a chair, you've 'ad stressful few hours."

you practically fell back into the chair that the man with the kindest brown eyes you've ever seen pushed towards you. and for the first time since you arrived, you took a deep, long breath. hand clasped in your lap as you take simon in.

"feeling any better, mrs. riley?"

"she's fine, garrick." 

'garrick' seems utterly unphased by your roommate's- husband's? you can address that later- tone and just continues to smile at you.

"c'mon simon, we just wannae ken 'bout the bonnie lass yer hidin' from yer pals. ye 'aven't even introduced us." you're glad the scot waited until you'd calmed down to start speaking because it took you at least 30 seconds to realize he was even talking about you.

"sweetheart these are the boys, boys this is sweetheart, now fuck off before you scare 'er away"

they didn’t seem like they were going to leave until the older man practically dragged them out saying something about the heaping loads of paperwork they had to do. so will a little wave and a cheeky smile, they were gone.

"so, um, ho-how are you feeling? they, uh, said that you got shot?"

" 'm fine, sweetheart, better knowing i've got a bird at home who'll come runnin' cause she thinks 'm hurt, yeah wife?"

yeah, maybe you'll let the mrs. riley thing go on for a little bit longer.

idk i just really like the idea of simon just picking someone random and being like 'yeah this is it, you're mine now' and they have literally no idea

[duchessbird]

i have baby fever so…

Single Dad!Simon Riley whose daughter is so sweet.

You, a sweet and humble hairdresser in your salon which you’ve bought and built from the ground yourself, having a walk-in appointment with a 6’4” hulking man, and his most precious angel. A black surgical mask covering his jaw, mouth and nose.

His little angel, who you learn to be Amelia, climbs into your chair with the cutest grunts of struggle and eventually a triumphant sigh. Her dad, in his effortlessly silky, gruff voice, explains that her hair is now down to her knees practically and he needs help. Her mother left when she was young and he’s only ever had one brother.

You chuckle softly and nod, and his daughter looks up at you after you explain that you’ll be trimming her gorgeous hair and demonstrating some simple braiding techniques to her father, and in the tiniest, cutest little Londoner accent:

“Thank you for helping my Daddy.” You nearly burst into tears at her shining hazel eyes and her big, toothy smile. You nod and begin sectioning her hair after placing a pink apron over her front. She beams to her Dad, “Look! She gave me pink!” He laughs and his eyes shine with pride. She’s so good at communicating, even though she barely looks five. She’s so adorably tiny, too.

At the end of the appointment, Simon has learned three different braid styles. He’s a natural, you assure him. You curl his daughter’s hair just before she leaves, and she does a little dance around the place in her princess dress. Her dad picks her up, and he smiles at you. Thanking you in that knee-weakening voice of his. He promises he’ll be back with any hair concerns, and he even tips you extra.

Before he leaves, his daughter points at you and asks if he can take you home. He responds, without missing a damn beat:

“Mm, only if she wants to come home with us.” He winks at you for good measure.

You think that maybe that idea isn’t so bad.

[kruegerspillow]

sleeping with simon riley includes...

a bunch of coughing and groaning in the middle of the night (yeah... he needs to stop smoking)

random muttering and mumbling from him/you

nightmares. he will literally jump out of the bed which causes you to be startled sometimes (he offered to sleep on the couch due to his nightmares....)

his hands roaming around your body as if he wants to memorize every part of you (he does)

cuddles of course !!! it doesnt matter if hes the big or small spoon he just needs to be with you.

either of you falling off of the bed, at least once in a while

the blankets being left aside because simon says its gonna be 'too hot' (no, he just wants to be your personal heater lmao)

laying on top of each other. yeah, you might end up sleeping with your head resting against his chest.

HAIR STROKING. will stroke your hair until you fall asleep soundly

sigh... drooling. he drools a bit sorry to break it to you guys

a lot of admiring. he'll admire you as you sleep, its the only view that helps him doze off

FOREHEAD KISSES. either you or him. if he stirs awake he'll just give you a small forehead kiss before holding you closer to him (if thats even possible) and dozing off once more

nuzzling. he loves to nuzzle into the crook of your neck :(

tangled legs. his legs are gonna be intertwined with yours oooor one of his leg is going to be on top of yours.

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

series masterlist

[elysianightsss]

Something something becoming an accidental prostitute for Simon lol.

Hear me out though, you’re at a bar. You’re making out, you’ve had a little too much to drink. Not enough to be completely gone like you’re sure Simon is but enough to be making out with a stranger.

Then you’re back in his truck, he’s practically begging for you to let him fuck you and you say no. You ‘don’t do that type of shit, one night stands and all that’ you say. Simon’s next thing is to beg for a blowjob, you again say no. ‘Part of the boyfriend package’ blah blah blah.

Then Simon delivers his final offer. He is so desperate he offers to pay for a handjob, he cringes after the words come out of his mouth thinking you’d be offended. But to his surprise you say yes. You need the money, and want him to feel good so why the heck not.

And it’s the best damn handjob he’s had in his life.

He drives you home and soon enough after a few days he’s at your door offering more money for another handjob. You feel a little dirty but when his calloused hand slides up your thigh and his hot breath is fluttering on your neck, the feeling fizzles away into something else.

Seeing him come undone with just your touch drives you wild, it becomes increasingly difficult not to do more for him. So when Simon comes over again, this time you kneel in front of him watching as his dark eyes widen when your knees hit the ground.

And just like your handjobs, it’s the best damn blowjob he’s ever had in his life. All sloppy and filthy, not like he imagined but so much better.

You don’t ask for anything but after Simon has kissed you goodbye -(after he’s done begging to let him make you cum)- you turn to find a stack of cash on the coffee table, almost double the amount he’d given for the handjob.

It’s not long after that, that you give in and let him spend hours between your thighs. He even pays you for that, mumbles into your cunt that it’s just as good as your lips around his cock as he ruts his hips into the mattress. You don’t see it until later, long after he’s left, but there is a triple stack of cash on your nightstand.

A day later you receive a text from him saying he’ll be gone for a couple of weeks on work but he can’t wait to see you when he’s back. You feel a strange fluttering sensation in your tummy that makes you feel sick. You thought Simon was the type to hide his feelings and be more stoic and blunt so seeing that message from the hulking giant has your stomach in knots.

It stays that way, you can’t rid the feeling so much so that when he finally shows up at your door you tell him whatever it is between you had to end. It was certainly not the welcome Simon was expecting after dealing with a gruelling mission with nothing but men for weeks on end. He feels something snap in his mind and suddenly he’s throwing you on the bed, gripping your jaw, brown eyes glaring into yours as he speaks, “I’m not goin nowhere sweet’art.”

You ‘fight’ with him blah blah blah but let’s get real you let him finger fuck your pussy until you go cross eyed. You let him fuck you into the mattress until you can barely remember your own name. You let him kiss your neck until the sun starts to rise. And you let him pull your body into his as you both drift off to sleep together.

In the morning you hear the envelope, heavy with weight to it, placed down on your nightstand. Then Simon kisses your forehead and whispers he’ll be back later to take care of you.

Then, the money stops appearing but he’s still fucking you. Soon the rent is paid in cash by an anonymous ‘good samaritan’. And before you know it, you’re waking up with a glittering diamond on your wedding finger and a swollen belly that moves when Simon says I love you.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon’s never given much thought to babies before.

When he was younger, enough time was spent scorning his father and the childhood he was depriving him of, that any thoughts of becoming a dad himself one day were nonexistent. As far as he was concerned, he was essentially already a stand in parent to his younger brother.

As he grew older and enlisted, his life becoming one that consisted of nothing more than violence and destruction and terror, he thought the odds of him surviving into his 30’s were so slim that he need never bother worrying about having a ‘next of kin’.

That was until, he met you, of course.

Because now that Simon Riley has you in his life, he’s not quite so pessimistic about his existence the way he once was, doesn’t picture a foreboding dark cloud when he considers what his future could be. What a future with you could be.

Still, as much time as the two of you spend actually engaging in the baby making process, Simon really only considers babies as being something that other people have, not him.

Not with his line of work, not with the risks that come alongside the territory, not when he already can barely stand to leave you for deployment, let alone leave you behind with a child on top of everything.

No, Simon is perfectly content with his life where babies are just another anomale.

But then, your best friend announces she’s pregnant. And the sight of you holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, changes something within him.

Suddenly, Simon is noticing chubby, drooling little infants everywhere he goes.

Fat babies shoved into the uncomfortable looking seats of grocery carts pass by him in the shops, crying babies strapped to their mums on the tube, sleeping babies being pushed around in their prams without a care in the world. Even on base, he notices more people talking about their children, showing off picture of their offspring.

He’s looking at you a little different as well. His gaze on you will darken as you and your friend chat about baby names, casually mentioning the ones that you like for yourself. His grip will tighten around the shopping cart when you wave to passing babies, making them giggle. He’s surprised at the way his cock twitches when you pretend to hold a breast pump up to your own chest, wrapping the baby shower gift you’d gotten her.

It only takes so long for you to notice the change in him as well.

You’ll be strolling through the park on a chilly morning when a young family goes by, Simon muttering something about how the little bald headed infant ‘should have a hat on for fuck’s sake, cold out ‘ere’. You’ll be in the shops, when suddenly Simon returns holding a pair of teeny tiny baby shoes in his hand, appearing comically small in his large calloused palms, wondering if maybe your friend would like them. You’re sitting outside a cafe while a pair of chubby cheeked babies are sat in their strollers staring at Simon as if their lives depended on it. You’re giggling to yourself, watching your boyfriend stare right back at these little girls, when the 6’4” tank of a man slowly lifts a gloved hand and waves at them, earning a pair of gummy smiles in return.

The most evident change in Simon however, is in bed.

Almost overnight, he goes from never having considered children, to suddenly dedicating every effort to getting you pregnant by the end of the year, month, week.

[khioneee]

simon is one of the girls (sort of)

boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.

if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.

boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.

“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”

your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.

out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.

despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.

“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.

he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”

with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”

boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”

an. i desperately need a man like him.

[grey-coyote]

Sleepy - Simon Riley x f!Reader drabble

Summary: You get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, not expecting your boyfriend to follow you.

Warnings: Fluff, sleepy cuddling

Word Count: 181

A/N: This is my first drabble. Thank you so much for the support on the first part of No Promises! The second part will be out soon. I was really nervous about posting for the first time but the support I got on that part encouraged me a lot! I hope you enjoy this :)

—————

"What-" You whispered, your eyes squinted as you attempted to focus on the large figure in the doorway. You had gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, not bothering to turn any lights on, and definitely not expecting your behemoth of a boyfriend to follow you.

"'M sorry, love. Didn't mean to scare you. Woke up and you were gone." Simon spoke, his voice thick with sleep, as a large hand moved up to rub at his eyes, "Jus' wanted to see where you went."

You finished up and walked out of the small room, your puppy-like boyfriend towering over you as he trailed close behind. "It's ok," You reassured, "I was coming right back."

The two of you entered your shared bedroom, climbing into bed and getting into position—your back pressed snugly to Simons chest and his thick arms wrapped comfortably around you. "Love you." He mumbled as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head.

"Love you too, Si." You responded before quickly falling back asleep, feeling secure in the arms of the man that loved you.

—————

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

“i can’t say it, i’m shy,” reader x “need you to use your pretty words,” simon riley

—ㅤ ꒰ྀིㅤ simon riley x reader ಿৎ

mentions of: vaginal sex, slight degradation, soft dom simon until the last comment at the end teehee, age gap briefly mentioned

“‘m shy si,” you mumbled softly, your voice barely audible as you avoided eye contact, your cheeks heating up as simon had you pinned down naked, your legs wrapped around his waist as your ankles dug into his lower back.

he tutted, “need you to use your words alright luvie? yer not gonna come by staying silent.” simon knew just how shy you were, the way you followed him around like a lost puppy, your big eyes staring at him before understanding what you want and taking you to bed. but no, this time he wanted you to say it. “yer older man is asking you and yer gonna say no?”

you looked away from him, your teeth sinking down to your bottom lip as the blush spreads down to your chest. “need you to make me come si,” you muttered out quickly, too soft and fast for him to understand. a low chuckle left simon’s mouth. “come on luvie, we can do better than that.”

though his thrusts didn’t stop, his cock abusing your small leaking cunt as the bed frame creaked,“give it another go luvie, good girls use their voice yeah?” his eyes glued to the way your tits bounced, your eyes rolling back as he continued to edge you for what felt like forever.

slowly your chest started to rise and fall heavily, your breaths coming out as pants as simon continued to fuck you like his own personal flesh light. “come on baby, breathe,” he reminded you as you started to get a little hazy, your eyes dilated and unfocused.

“i know it’s a lot yeah luvie? must feel good too, but need you to try again.”

“i wanna come si,” you moaned desperately, your perfectly manicured nails creating crescent indents on his muscular shoulders. “there we go, wasn’t that hard was it baby?” he cooed. “want me to fuck yer sweet lil cunt till your drippin’?”

“who knew a sweet soft girl like you was a slut begging to be filled hm?”

[sixeyesonathiel]

satoru hated his last name. hated it like a stone in his shoe—always there, always rubbing raw. gojo felt less like a name and more like a warning label. it wasn’t his, not really. it belonged to history books and clan heads and a bloodline that never once asked if he wanted any of it. being gojo meant being untouchable, invincible, alone. he grew up thinking of it like a muzzle. like shackles. like a script he never got to rewrite.

and then he married you.

and suddenly you're laughing, calling yourself mrs. gojo like it’s the most casual, normal thing in the world. no fear, no hesitation, just soft affection wrapped around something that once made his chest tighten. you sign it on forms, whisper it into the phone when making reservations, scrawl it on love notes you slip into his coat pocket before missions. like it's yours. like it's yours and his, not just a dynasty or a curse.

and he can’t take it. he can’t fucking take it.

you wear his name like a promise. like a shared secret. like you want it. like you want him. and satoru—satoru, the man, the boy beneath the title—he doesn't know what to do with that. he's unraveling. imploding. your voice saying his name makes him dizzy, because you don’t say it like the world does. you say it like it’s precious. like it’s soft. like it means something good.

and it’s so stupid, right? that a name he once loathed now makes his chest ache with something too big for words? all because of you? all because you made it beautiful?

he used to resent it. now he wants to carve it into the sky just so everyone knows you chose it. chose him. chose forever.

maybe the name was never the problem. maybe it just hadn’t belonged to the right person yet.

but now it does.

and now it sounds like home.

[softaestluv]

Johnny who makes it everyone else’s problem that he hasn’t got laid in weeks, that he’s so fucking pent up he can feel it in his teeth. Won’t stop his Scottish whining that his hand isn’t enough, needs a warm cunt to fuck or he’ll go insane.

So, you take one for the team, let him fuck all his pent up cum inside of you because you don’t think you can hear another description of how sad his hand feels. Hope to get him to shut the hell up.

But now he just won’t stop whining about needing to fuck your cunt.

[tojisteddy]

Overstim with the 141

John is full of encouragement. His large hands caressing and pulling you in the most divine ways. He’ll hold you close, slowly thrusting into you during your second orgasm, forehead to forehead.

“So pretty honey, know you can give me another.”

“Love you so much, just fuckin- fuck- made for me, fuckin proud of you.”

He’ll plant such tender kisses on your lips, you can’t help but melt and shudder around him. He’ll continue praising you after, cumming himself just from getting you off.

Simon on the other hand, he’s getting that orgasm out of you whether you think you can or not. A bully. Rubbing your puffy clit till your withering and sobbing on his dick. Might stick a finger in your stuffed heat for good measure. He’ll suck on your earlobe, then make his way down your jaw. Finally creaming all over him just how he wanted.

“See? Wasnt that fuckin hard, was it luvie?”

“Pretty little cunt just needed a little guidance, huh birdie?”

Gaz, just has to talk you through it. Dirty talker at heart. Wont shut the fuck up. Definitely has your arms pinned behind your back, enjoying the perfect view of of your cheeks rippling every time he drags his length out and then rams it back in your sopping walls.

“Shit, sweetheart, look at how well you’re taking me. Pussy wont let me go, needs me right, here, yeah?”

“Shh, shhhh, listen angel. You hear all that? That’s allll you, fucking soaking me to my balls. You can give me another, show me how good you are.”

Soap, the idiot, will overstimulate himself while overstimulating you. You’re fucking shaking, telling him to take a fucking break but he’s pussy drunk. So pussy drunk, that even the idea of him pulling out of your tight pussy makes tears well up in his eyes, rambling, whimpering, pleading—

“Cannae get enough of ye bonnie, god, ‘nd ya want me gone? Not like this lass, ma ears ‘re shot. I can’t- ungh- why are ye suckin me like this, Christ-“

“Soo good- hnngh- too good- need you dove. Please, please cum, just once more! I swear, I promise-“

The fool, fucking you both dumb till he’s shooting blanks, cum leaking out of your overstuffed cunt, leaking down his thighs and he’s passed out, still inside you. Don’t worry! He’ll do it over again tomorrow :)

a/n: good morning, sluts, countryfolk, and working babes— lend me your ears!!!

most recent masterlist

[bunny-jpeg]

most think that simon comes home from missions or deployment and just smothers himself in his wife's plush titties and fucks your sweet cunt like a mad man - a desperate dog for completion after so much time apart.

and while that did happen, usually he was dead on his feet when he arrived home. his bag thrown onto the couch, his hands moved without thought to get his boots off - left by the door to be cleaned in the morning. then he trudged upstairs to your shared bedroom. you were close behind asking if he needed anything: food, water, a change of clothes, a bath. he just grunted in response, his eyes heavy. the dark circles were noticeable, even with his mask still on.

he at least was smart enough to get out of his well worn (smelly) military clothes before he face-planted into your bed. the mask taken off and throw somewhere in the room to hopefully be found later. his body curled into himself and he just relaxed for the first time in what felt like years.

you tried to ask him if he needed anything: the heat pad for his back, a face cloth to wipe the eye grease off, a pair of sweatpants, the biscuits that you went out to buy just for him.

he barely lifted his head off his pillow as he looked at you. he said bluntly, but in a gentle tone, "just get into bed with me, dove." he scratched the stubble on his chin, "come to bed and read me one of those cheesy books ya love so much."

everything could wait: a meal, a bath, sex, it could all wait. simon in that moment just needed one thing: to feel you in his arms once more <3

a/n: i can't wait to get my baby back!

[starsofang]

Simon didn’t like to hold you. He liked to be held.

At first, you didn’t understand why he’d turn his back to you in bed without saying anything. You thought you’d done something to him, or maybe he was in a bad mood. You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Simon Riley, an absolute brute of a soldier, was silently asking for you to be the big spoon. You nearly didn’t believe it when he finally brought it to your attention.

He was too embarrassed to ask you, so he’d resort to flipping on to his side and wait. And wait. Until he realized you didn’t catch the memo, even after many hopeless attempts.

In his mind, he thought being the big spoon would somehow convince you he wasn’t manly enough, as if his title in the service or his pure stature wasn’t proof enough of his masculinity.

To him, being held was a blanket of security. Where he’d always have to watch his back out on the field, both literally and metaphorically, he didn’t have to keep an eye out at all times with you. It was a chance for him to find solace in a person, and when he explained this to you, he was surprised to find you so willing.

And oh, when it happened, Simon nearly kicked himself for holding back on verbalizing it for so long.

The warmth of your arms when they wrapped around him from behind, your face buried between his shoulder blades, legs tangled in his, he thought that this was what inner peace felt like.

He was silly to think you’d ever be the one to judge him for what most deemed ‘unmasculine’. In all of his broad glory, he felt safe the moment you held him, like a child does when they feel a mother’s embrace except it was from someone he loved dearest to his heart.

And you? You found that being the big spoon was rather enjoyable when the man you’re holding was so damn comfortable to snuggle up to. It was a win-win for you both.

You just wished he wasn’t an idiot that left you wondering all those hopeless nights until the truth came out.