#mw2 ghost drabble

[simonzmama]

‘magine that hot sloppy make out sesh with hubby!simon!!!

his fingers would be curling into that soft, plush skin of your ass, nails digging their way through the thick second-skin of your jeans. n the diamond of his jaw tilts, tongue delving further into your mouth ‘til you’re ‘bout spluttering on that sweet, pink muscle.

you’ve got your own set of freshly manicured (thanks to him course) hands all up on him. cupping that v of his jaw, his neck, down every ridge of his hard-worked for abs. you struggle through every inhale, exhales heating his face as he swallows your warm breath and lets his mingle in your mouth.

he lets out a soft grumble when the edges of his pearly whites clash with yours n it fuels something in him. his fingers curl around the back of your head, tongue swirling n dancing around in your mouth till you struggle to keep up with him.

your fingers curl around the base of his neck, the band of your sparkling wedding ring cools his skin n causes his skin to rise in tender goosebumps. his tendons flex, fingers following suit n he can straight up feel the perk of his dick in his pants, the slight vulnerability that shoots down his spine drives him into an absolute frenzy.

he hikes you closer to him ‘till you can feel the rock of his pecs under your ass n you can’t help the giggle that passes you. his lips curl, spit mixing between your mouths before he’s pulling away and licking that string of saliva connecting your mouths as one.

“what’re you laughin’ for, hon? you tryna take a ride up here?”―୨୧⋆ ˚

[shotmrmiller]

I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)

Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.

But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.

You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.

"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.

The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.

Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.

Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.

If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.

You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.

He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.

Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.

"Johnny?"

"Aye, bonnie?"

"Since when do you drink bourbon?"

[endotwrites]

thinking about situationship!simon who accidentally got you pregnant and instead of being his usual distant self who comes over for a quick fuck and leaves, is now basically living in your house and taking care of you. dishes are done, laundry is folded and it’s barely 10am. meanwhile, you waddle around trying to vacuum when simon seizes it from your hands, immediately scolds you with a tut and tells you off.

“back to bed, tired of telling you twice.”

part two

picture from pinterest!

a/n: a little bedtime drabble, goooodniiighttt :) xx

[celestialwhoree]

♡🎀

Simon Riley is the type to get his partner a dog, argue with the wall.

He maybe even pulls some strings to get them a retired K9, or maybe one that didn't make it all the way through training due to size, injury etc.

He literally cannot stand the thought of them alone when he's deployed for long periods of time, not just worried about them being lonely despite having loads of friends, a bookclub and a job. He also can't stand the thought of them unprotected in their home.

Their house is practically a safe house with the way Simon's done it up with help of the boys and some pretty fancy security equipment, but the fact that there's also a massive, scary looking dog in the house is just another layer of protection.

The dog is absolutely just the sweetest, most gentle thing, but after all those years of training, it's fiercely loyal to its owners, and won't hesitate to bare its teeth if they're threatened - much like Simon himself.

[criminalamnesia]

ok but price and simon could give such tolerate it vibes.

him with a younger partner. he finds your naivety and youth charming. you look up to him, and you can’t believe someone older and wiser is with you.

you met him when he was on leave, and things started getting serious after a few months, but then he was facing deployment again. so, with teary eyes and a broken heart, you watched him leave and promise you’ll write every day.

he chuckles and nods his head, placing a chaste kiss to your hair before slipping away.

you do write him everyday, and at first it’s endearing how worried you are. you don’t know what’s happening, and you’re so concerned— and he appreciates that. find it charming, even.

he comes home from that first deployment and you’re there, waiting with a battle hero’s welcome. streamers and balloons and a fucking cake you baked yourself on the dining room table of his flat. you, beaming brightly and clutching your hands together in glee, waiting by the door.

he laughs it off, tells you he appreciates it, but it was unnecessary. you tell him you think he deserves more.

time passes, and the charm of your naivety and doting loses its shine. you’re boasting to all your friends about your man, how amazing and strong and brave he is. and he tolerates it, laughs it off.

the next time he comes home from deployment, you’ve decorated your now shared flat. the whole nine yards because it’d been a longer deployment. his favorite meal, hot and fresh on the table. a bottle of his favorite liquor.

he can’t help but be annoyed. it was cute at first, and now he doesn’t understand it. he doesn’t care for the festivities— he’s done things no man should be proud of, yet here you are, celebrating him.

he doesn’t want to fight, so he tolerates it. puts on a smile, eats a few bites of dinner, and slips away for the evening. you frown but don’t question it.

soon it’s like you’re living with a shell of the man you loved. he’s quiet. gone a lot. barely affectionate. when the two of you talk, it usually ends in an argument. he won’t introduce you to any of his friends.

you still shower him with love, talk his ear off about plans and your day and whatnot, and he nods along absentmindedly.

your friends tell you he doesn’t deserve you. you’ve basically become a live-in housemaid that he occasionally fucks. you don’t believe it at first, but you come to realize it’s truth.

your love should be celebrated, not tolerated. you should be with someone who loves you as much as you love them.

the next time he’s on deployment, you move out. pack all your shit into a u-haul and move in with a friend for the time being. leave a note stained with tears on the dining room table.

he gets home from deployment, expecting what’s become normal. you, waiting anxiously by the door, jumping into his arms as soon as he’s inside. the smell of dessert or his favorite dinner wafting from the kitchen. balloons and streamers and confetti.

the house is dark when he steps through the door.

part two here, part three (ending version 1) here, part three (ending version 2) here

[hayleybarnesx]

Thinking about Simons dog, Riley, cuddled up at the bottom of your bed after Simon kicks him out the office for disturbing him while he’s working.

This big scary German shepherd snuggled up with you like a cat while your both fast asleep under piles of blankets and pillows, a stark contrast from the single pillow and blanket Simon sleeps with at night.

After the first night, Simon finds Riley missing more often the not. A quick look into your room when Riley’s due a bath and he’s found him.

He can’t help but internally smile at the sight, his favourite pair basking in each others warmth, Simon quickly noticed Riley’s been brushed and washed already. His fur sleek and fluffed up, smelling like vanilla.

Simon took excellent care of Riley, he was properly pampered and it warmed his cold heart slightly seeing the same care applied from you, perhaps Simon would trust you with his sunshine.

[diorchids]

morning sex with simon ‘ghost’ riley.

you and ghost fooled around all night, not having sex, but just touching everywhere. you’d fallen asleep with his body wrapped around you, loud snores in your ear.

the next morning, simon woke up to find you still asleep in his grasp. his cock, now fully hard again, throbbed against your ass through your clothes. he tried to ignore it, but found it impossible.

“morning,” your voice all raspy and low. his fingertips lightly dug into your hips.

simon looked down at you, his heart racing. "morning," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. he tried to move away from you, but his cock twitched again, betraying his arousal. he couldn't believe what was happening to him.

“need you bad, si.” your voice only giving him an even more erect cock. you’d almost broken your neck to look up at him, still facing away.

ghosts heart raced as he looked at your sleepy, sultry gaze. his cock twitched against your ass again, betraying his desire. he had never wanted anything more than to fuck you in the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

that’s how you ended up getting stretched out perfectly by him.

“so fuckin’ tight, doll," he groaned, thrusting his hips forward. he couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside of you.

“go hard, s-si. be fuckin’ mean.” you cried out.

he couldn’t say no.

he thrust harder and faster, feeling you tighten around his cock. his hips moved in a steady rhythm as he lost himself in the sensations running through him. he reached down and began stimulating your clit, and you responded with a moan.

your legs trembled as you arched under him, giving him more room for his cock to explore.

simon smirked and leaned in closer, whispering against your ear. "you like being fucked this early, no?" he continued to thrust harder, his cock stretching you further.

you nodded carelessly, his words going in and coming right back out with the quickness.

he leaned over you, pinning you down with his weight as he pounded deep into your sweet cunt. he increased the speed and intensity, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. he slammed into you over and over, his cock twitching inside of you.

“f-fuck, si. feels so good, baby,”

“yeah?” he smirked and gripped a handful of your hair, pulling back. your eyes welled with tears as you cried out loudly. the room filled with mewls, cries and, moans.

“you like that, huh?" ghost moaned, leaning in to nip at your neck. he felt the head of his cock swelling deep inside you, and it sent shivers down his spine. “love it s’ much, si. put your babies in m-me..”

you cried loudly, gripping the messy and crinkled sheets to anchor yourself and stop your tears. “so big, b-baby, gimme your load.”

you tapered off about wanting his cum deep in your cunt, pushing yourself onto him, only being left with more pain. your legs trembled as you tried to tell him so thrust gentler.

he growled lowly, his hips slamming into yours in a rougher rhythm. "you wanted me to be mean," he panted, his free hand moving to grip your other cheek.

you were a mindless idiot now, unable to form a single coherent sentence. “c-cummin.”

“there we go, love. cum on my cock f’me.” simon encouraged, his voice rough with lust. as you neared your climax, he thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside you again and again, his own orgasm building rapidly.

he felt your tight muscles clenching around his cock as you climaxed, your juices fell onto the bed under you while simon bit his lip to stifle his whimpers. he loved seeing your arousal.

and with a final thrust, he let go, filling you up with his seed. he groaned loudly, his hips jerking roughly against your plump asscheeks.

you were a complete mess, eyes rolled back as drool spilled from your lips. you thrashed and shook under his large body.

“easy, love," simon panted, his grip on your hair and cheek loosening slightly. slowly, he pulled out of you, his cock still twitching as it slipped free.

maybe morning sex could fit into your schedule.

[moongreenlight]

Ghost knocks you up in the back of his truck during a one night stand btw.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Like you’re a bartender and you’re flirting pretty heavily with him and the rest of the force boys for a good tip because you know their type. He’s not exactly shutting you down but he’s definitely not dogging after you like the others. You shrug it off and figure that three for four still gives you decent odds.

You step out back for a quick break on the top of the hour as things are winding down, promise your coworker you won’t be five minutes. He’s lingering in the workers only smoking area out back because he’s a freak. And you’re a little sussed-out, but he offers his help when you realize you’d left your lighter inside. Tells you he keeps his in the car in an attempt to curb his habit or some shit. Doesn’t matter. You know what he’s really saying.

He guides you with an arm slung loosely around your waist and for some reason you’re inclined to indulge yourself. Live a little. Get some after a months long dry spell that’s left you a little out of your mind. He folds you over the bench seat in the back of his truck in a dark corner of the lot. Leaves your pants bunched around your knees and only unbuttons his own enough to let his cock free.

He doesn’t bother trying to cram himself into the back with you. Given the sheer size of him, you weren’t sure he’d be able to anyway. Leaves the door open and yanks your hips back until he’s lined himself up. Makes quick work of it for both of your sakes, but it exceeds expectations given the circumstance. He comes mostly on the leather under you, but his hips stuttered and you ended with a bit slicking your folds. You cringe when you tug your pants back on you feel some pool in your underwear.

It’s a bit of an awkward walk back, but he makes good on his promise of a light when he sparks the end of your cigarette before walking back around front. You forget about the exchange until about a month later when you finally realize you’ve missed your period by at least a week and a half. You take a test mostly for peace of mind. Even though you didn’t use a condom, you’re decent at remembering to take the pill, so it’s really not heavy on your mind. Not until the test reads positive.

You pull him to the side the next time he comes to the bar and stumble over a hushed delivery of the news. He’s shockingly stoic. Silent for a moment before making some dry remark about how the two of you should probably go to the courthouse and make things official if you want to get his military benefits.

[angelatsumu]

bedtime with olderboyfriend!simon <3

thinking of older!boyfriend!simon who says “lights off” before turning off your nightstand and leaving you to scroll endlessly on your phone in the dark. he thinks it’s an indicator that you should be going to bed, but once he’s rolled over he can still hear the incessant tapping of your fingernails scrolling through each video and image on your feed. he clears his throat, hoping you’d get the hint. when he hears the clatter of nails again, he grunts at you. “phones off too, pup. y’know damn well it’s jus’ gonna ruin your sleep,” he huffs matter-of-factly, and you whine a little protest before conceding. you place your phone down next to your lover’s and curl up under the covers beside him.

[yujivrs]

hii againn! o mi gosh i’ve literally been thinking abt like ghost getting possessive over barracks bunny reader, getting all jealous and mean to make sure they know that they’re hisssss ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

i just need to get this out of my head; possessive ghost has been such a little brain worm akdosimdksjhd anywaysss i hope your doing well!

* SCREAM MY NAME

thirst. he doesn’t like to share.

contains. ghost / spanking, dacryphilia, degradation, and mean dom themes.

—

there’s no way you’re that fucking clueless, simon thinks to himself…

there’s a part of him that knows you’re just naive, you’re a sweet girl at heart, but the other half of him couldn’t stand to see you batting your pretty eyes at somebody else like that.

god, and you were being so attentive too?

nodding your head along, pretending you understood the answer they were giving you to whatever stupid question was plaguing your little head right now — he hated it.

he wasn’t a man known for having patience. so, that’s how you ended up here, bent over his knee with your ass up, exposed.

simon’s hand reels back before it strikes against your plush behind, the sudden sting making you cry out louder. you were already so sore, but he wasn’t satisfied yet — in fact, it seemed your little sniffles and tear-stained lashes had no effect on him today.

“you just don’t listen, do you?” he growls. yet, there’s no chance for you to respond as he smacks your ass again, this time harder than the last.

“m'… m'sorry, daddy..” you pathetically mumble out, your apology makes his eyebrow cock up. “are you, bunny? are you really? 'cause from what i’ve seen, it’s almost like you enjoy the attention.”

you can feel his fingertips grazing against the sensitive, reddened skin from his slaps before they finally end up between your thighs. thick digits teasingly playing with your wet folds then slowly pumping in and out of dripping cunt.

“is that it, huh? you just want everyone to know you’re a little slut?” you shake your head, but he speeds up anyways, and the pleasure he’s giving you is practically forcing moans out of you.

“you want their attention so bad, why don’t you let ‘em hear you?” he says, still looking furious.

“why don’t you scream my fucking name? these assholes need to know who you belong to and judging by how you’ve been acting, it looks like you need a reminder too.”

[chaosandmarigolds]

more Simon Riley with Ollie because he is a great father after he gets used to it

Simon Riley who took the whole fatherhood thing in stride, after all before you both got together he was the go-to babysitter so your son already liked him

Simon who nearly died when the toddler fell off of the slide and began sobbing

Simon who was more than a little confused when Ollie came running to him instead of you

Simon who is very content with his new life, if not a bit hesitant to all of it- constantly looking back to you for assurance that what he was doing was right

Simon who in his mind had a perfect little family, sure you were only his girlfriend but he would treat you like his wife and Ollie as his son

Simon who would go 'up, we go' under his breath as he lifts Ollie into the shopping cart, wagon, swing or onto his shoulders

Simon who willingly would put Ollie to bed because he thought it was the perfect 'bonding' time even though you don't live together yet

Simon who worked on making a room for Ollie in his house even though he fully plans on buying you a pretty house with more space

Simon who cooks breakfast with Ollie on his hip as he lets the toddler taste-test anything he makes

[shotmrmiller]

I like to think that Simon has no game. He's large, he's unapproachable, his stare alone scares away the women. Which was totally fine, until one day, he saw you as Johnny's screensaver on his phone. He was entranced, mesmerized. He's seen more than enough beautiful women on the orange youtube (his hand being his only source of relief for years) but there was something different about you. Maybe it was the tender smile you had on your face, or maybe it was how you glowed with happiness.

Or your eyes. Your eyes twinkled with affection, you looked at the camera with love. Love. That's it.

He can't remember the last time someone aimed a fond look his way. And whenever he stares at your photo, it looks like you're lovingly gazing back at him— and it gets him fucking hard.

Johnny once left his phone behind, for whatever reason, and Simon waited a solid minute, (60) seconds, before he picked it up, and took out his own phone to take a picture of you.

Simon wanked himself raw that night, his thick cum splattering over his screen, over your face. His refractory period that night was nonexistent.

And when Johnny one day was on the phone with you? When Johnny said, "Simon's here too, hen. Say hello." The way your melodic voice said his name? His cock was achingly hard within seconds, and he shifted around uncomfortably, willing for it to disappear.

It didn't. Simon walked with a wide gait, legs stiff, straight to the nearest bathroom and took himself in his hand. He gripped his long, thick length tight, and when he closed his eyes, he squeezed even harder, almost painfully. His tip was an angry red, from how tight he held himself, and that's how snug he imagined your undoubtedly pretty pussy would be around him.

He had to clench his jaw— grit his teeth hard, to keep the pathetic whimpers from escaping. Simon leaked pre-cum like a juvenile, stringy like egg whites, all over his knuckles and he hadn't even started pumping yet.

When someone knocked on the door, the snarl he let out was feral, a "Fuck off" so nasty, no one disturbed him again until he came with his head tilted back, and the vision of you riding him behind his closed eyes.

And then in the comfort of his own quarters, he pulled up your picture again— a blurry, too zoomed-in photo of a photo, and rut into one of his pillows, again imagining it was you. He thought of you on your back, legs open invitingly and waiting for him to fill you. He imagined the delicious moans you'd breathe out in his ear, your nails digging into the expanse of his broad, scarred back. He imagined your walls fluttering around him, the tell-tale sign of your upcoming climax, and you'd squeeze him so bloody tight when you finally did come, he'd move to pull out because there's no way he's not finishing with you. But you, you'd wrap your legs around his waist, and cross your ankles— effectively keeping him inside of you.

He'd cum on the spot, because you were effectively giving him your permission to finish inside. You'd rhythmically clench your walls to milk him dry, to take all of his seed.

And when his warped, fucked mind imagined you whispering an 'I love you' on his lips, he actually came, and he whimpered.

Simon's hips stuttered as his cock twitched and spasmed, spurting thick globs of cum all over his pillow, his bed. His breath came in shaky pants, his heart slamming against his ribcage.

After he stopped shaking, and was able to move his limbs, he cleaned his mess up shamefully, the post-nut clarity hitting hard, and as he switched bedsheets, he saw his phone light up with a notification.

Bonnie just sent this picture. Doesn't she look cute?

It was you holding a cup of iced coffee, and what stood out to him the most was your brightly colored nails.

He touched himself to the thought of those manicured hands wrapped around his cock, as you took him in your mouth 10 minutes later.

this was my inspo for this simon

@pieckyghost i really only have porn on my mind :( pussy on my mind, tighter than a headband.

[endotwrites]

simon takes up a lot of space

cw: gn reader, insecurity surrounding physical appearance

a/n: i’m running out of ideas to write about so gimme some time to think mwah 🥹

simon sometimes forgets he takes up so much space. he’ll reach for something across from him only to knock something else off the table. or he’ll try and tiptoe down the stairs for a sneaky cigarette only for the stairs to groan under his weight.

sometimes, simon wishes he could manoeuvre in a way that no one would even realise he was there. like a ghost, drifting through the hallways instead of a 6’4 man with the broadest shoulders known to man.

when simon sits with his thoughts and prays to whoever will listen to just make him the slight amount smaller, you’re there to remind him how much you adore him.

all of him.

his large biceps that encapsulates the whole of you when you pout at him for a bear hug. his wide back that he lets you sit on when doing push ups. his soft stomach that have stretch marks similar to your own.

teaching one another to love themselves for who they are was always a massive part of your relationship and as much as simon reminds you that he will love you no matter what, you are always there to say the same for him.

even if he takes up 3/4 of your bed.

[bigassmoonchild]

Simons Rut

Simon bullied his cock back into you, knot starting to inflate. He groaned, having stuffed you full of three other loads, grunts and groans becoming all you could hear.

His head fell on your shoulder, chest pressing into your back and whines coming from your mouth with the overstimulation. He nipped at your neck, sucking your scent into his throat to coat his tongue. A moan ripped from his neck, eyes rolling back into his head.

You could feel his cock sliding against your g-spot, sending spasms of pleasure through your gut. Biting your gland and remarking you, his knot started catching on you as he slid in and out.

Whines were coming from his throat, his mind lost in the thoughts of breed, mate, fuck a pup into Omega, and you couldn't move from under him, mouth open and drool slipping down your chin.

Your cunt spasmed around him, his knot finally catching you and he pumped his hips shortly. Hips pressing back into him and grinding on him, your own eyes rolling back with the pleasure as you kept spasming around Simons cock.

"Good little Omega, milking me, going to fuck pups into you, need you to be full of me," he growled into your ear, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm finally spread through him, dropping to his elbows and further caging you onto the bed.

Simon stayed like that for a moment, his nose rubbing along your neck as he filled his head with your scent, almost growing drunk on it. When he finally came to, he pushed his weight off of you and slowly moved the two of you over, letting you sit on his lap.

He ran his hands down your sides, your head falling on his shoulder and nudging at his own scent gland, licking at it to fill his scent in your own mouth.

Massaging at your thighs, you felt yourself relaxing around him, eyes falling shut from the exhaustion of cumming so many times around him.

Some time later, Simon was pulling you off of him and allowing you to come back to the present while carrying you into the bathroom, starting the tub after setting you on the counter.

You'd tugged Simon in the tub with you as he'd tried to set you in there and leave. Him joining you caused some water to splash around the sides, but you got to work washing his hair as he held you in his lap.

During his ruts, he was rougher than normal but became the sweetest Alpha, happy when his Omega was more than satisfied before his next wave came through him and had him bending you over the sink to watch yourself get fucked.

[criminalamnesia]

to hold everyone over until I finish traitor part four…

part one / part two / part three

I think kyle and johnny would 100% be the quickest to admit their fuck up, and I think they’d be the last to believe the ‘betrayal.’

the whole squad is fiercely loyal, but those two? those two didn’t believe it until price shoved the evidence in their faces; only then was it too damning to deny.

and god, they feel sick at the thought of what had happened to you. what they did to you. their teammate, their confidant, their friend.

sure, simon had taken point on the ‘interrogation,’ but johnny and kyle had helped. johnny had personally cut into you. kyle was no saint, either.

so when price breaks the news that you’re not the rat, johnny is sprinting to the room you’re being held in. he runs so hard across base that he thinks he may pass out when he finally bursts into the room, hands on his knees as he struggles to breathe.

and when he hears your laugh, he can’t help but think of how wrong it sounds. it’s hollow, untrue. eerie. unnerving. it makes him sick to his stomach.

he helped simon untie your limp body from the chair, and then he followed close behind as simon carried you to the infirmary. kyle was already waiting, eyes wide and lips bitten from nerves.

they don’t leave your side until price makes them. even then, the two are trading off standing outside the infirmary, eyes searching for you every time the door opens and closes. the doctor just shakes her head as she passes them.

they know it’s a long shot, but they have to try.

you’re one of them.

[ervotica]

MDNI pairing; simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings; smut (18+ ONLY), rough rough sex, heavy choking, breathplay & asphyxiation in a controlled environment, loss of consciousness, multiple orgasms, simon is mean but in a sweet way, pre-established consent, subspace (may write a part two of the aftercare if that's something you lot would be interested in!) a/n; this is my first cod fic so go easy on me please!! my cod requests and thirst discussions are wide open (like me for simon ngl) so if you have anything you want to talk about or request PLEASE don't hesitate to pop it in my inbox!

Really, you did this to yourself.

You're the one who asked Simon to be rough, to manhandle you, to fuck you hard and deep until you forget your own name.

He does just that.

He's got your back anchored to his firm chest by means of a thick bicep curled around your throat, restricting your airways just enough until the world tunes out around you, everything a little fuzzy as he pistons his hips into your soft cunt; all you can feel is him, the way the fat head of his cock nestles deep against your cervix, the drag of it against your walls as he pulls out only to force you wide open again for him.

You're far past forming coherent words, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering when he hikes you further up by the soft column of your throat until you arch against his chest, limp and pliable like putty under the control of those experienced hands. Your cunt drools with each rocking movement, excreting more of the milky fluid as the vein that runs against the underside of his cock- purple and angry with his arousal- creates a delicious friction against your pulsing insides.

You garble something entirely unintelligible when that corded arm tightens around your neck, your mouth hanging open as you drool like a leaky tap, kiss-bitten lips gaping when you halfheartedly attempt to form something that isn't completely inarticulate.

You can't even warn him before you're cumming on the length of him with a silent cry, your muscles pulling tight like a bowstring as you quiver under his expert touch before you're falling limp, dead weight in his arms. His spare hand reaches up and over to deliver a firm slap to your cheek in an effort to rouse you from your haze, but you only sink further into that blissful headspace where nothing matters except the way that he's fucking you.

You're not sure you could beg him for more if you tried despite so desperately wanting it. Your sticky cunt weeps over his cock, running in a stream downward until his heavy balls are saturated in your sweet juices, your body twitching weakly when the pleasure washes over you once again.

"There you go, baby," he murmurs, fisting your hair into a ponytail at the back of your head until he's snapping your head up, those eyes hungrily surveying your wrecked expression– eyes blackened with mascara from crying on his cock, lids barely open in your daze, lips swollen and flushed dark with colour. If he were to release his bruising grip on you, you'd crumple, entirely unable to hold yourself up. "My good, good girl. You gonna let me give you one more?"

You whine something that neither one of you understand, but the nod of your head and the way your eyes light up as you drag yourself from bliss just enough to affirm has him resuming his movements, hiking his knee up and over your hip to give him deeper access to fuck you; his pace quickens and you're damn near wailing by the time he grabs your bobbing throat, all hulking six foot four of him tipping forward until your airway is near completely cut off and your noises are silenced by the flexing muscles.

"Easy, love, take it easy," he murmurs, demands really, cadence gravelly but saccharine sweet, a stark juxtaposition to his cruel touch; you're barrelling towards another orgasm, entire body alight and burning with a pleasure that's damn near unbearable; your arse is slick and bruised, branded by his touch as his hips slap lewdly against you.

It hits you like a freight train, every muscle pulling tight and then suddenly liquifying all at once– and as the pleasure ebbs away, you're hit with the frightening realisation that you truly can't breathe. You force a limp hand up to claw at the tense muscles clamped around your neck, a pained, gasping little noise breaking free of the confines of your chest. But still, he doesn't let up. The room spins and shrinks around you, darkness creeping in at the corners until it's consumed you. His voice is dark and unyielding against the shell of your ear.

"Let it happen," he says. "'ve got you. Don't fight it."

It's not like you have much of a choice anyway as your head drops, hair hanging loosely around your face when you fall headfirst into darkness.

When you come to, you're flat on your back, no longer speared on the thick length of him as he lazily pumps his cock, pressing your knees upward against your chest in order to have ample room to torture your throbbing cunt with calloused fingers.

"There she is." Simon grins when you whimper and reach up for him, gazing through sticky lashes with those teary eyes he adores. He indulges you, coming forward to smear a quick kiss to the crown of your skull before he's gathering your slick with the head of his cock, breaching your sore entrance once again.

That night, you're sure you meet God.

And he looks an awful lot like Simon Riley.