#Simon Ghost Riley x female reader

[dmitriene]

cw: omegaverse, knotting, breeding.

simon riley being smitten over you, his precious omega, sweet thing that made his gut experience the newfound feeling of suddenly appearing butterflies, something twisting, carving itself deep inside of him with pooling, warming attraction, the mere whiff of your scent enough to drive him mad, sniff onto the air and seek out the patch of you all around, just so he could feel you in his arms as soon as possible.

he'd put the whole world down to your feet, just ask, there's nothing simon wouldn't do for you, because just being his mate makes you the most cherished thing in his life, even though only a couple of years ago he believed he'd never meet you, here you are, warm, sitting carefully on his lap, and through there are so many people around you, you're still nosing in his neck, covered with the fabric of balaclava, spreading your scent and purring.

you can clench your weeping pussy around simon's cock unexpected and tight to make him fill you up, and he would let you get away with it, his team heard more than one time that he wouldn't have kids, but when you whimper sweetly with your hole pulsing and sopping wet, pleading him to put a litter in you, keening that you want his chubby babies, he doesn't fights the swelling of his knot, the throb of his engorged girth, spurting out thick, creamy ropes of cum against your cervix.

simon will gladly accept the stinging, burning sensation of your nails scrabbling over his flexing back, tearing onto the already scarred, pale skin, your body vibrating with the force of those rumbling purrs you emit, lips wobbling and pulling into an sated smile, so small and delicate compared to him, but still wrapping him around your finger so easily, his cock locked into your cunt, not letting a single drop of his countless loads go to waste, as you chirp at the feeling.

he'd dump his duty for you, sign off the military if you'll really get pregnant, nothing more important than you at this point, and it's how simon finds himself excited about the simple possibility of starting a family, growing more possessive, his heavy hand stuck to your side, caring for you every possible minute, asking if you have eaten, how are you feeling, even massaging at your feet with his calloused fingers, completely lovesick.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[the-palelady]

imagine simon who’s roommate has some SERIOUSSSS road rage (same). especially as someone who’s usually quiet it shocks the shit out of people to drive with me.

you don’t normally drive, but simon’s tired. he just got home from a long mission. however, the man’s gotta eat so you decide to take him out to grab a bite that way neither of you will have to lift a finger.

as always, it’s quiet. between the two of you not much is said, but it’s a comfortable silence.

until you get to a light that’s green, and has been for more than six seconds. that’s all it takes to flip your switch.

“go!!! it’s green for fucks sakes!!!!”

your strength mirrors that of superman with the way your palm slams against the horn.

and simon is lost for fucking words. his eyes snap over to you and he watches the crease in your brows, and the way your face scrunches into a scowl.

it doesn’t stop there though as they finally take off, albeit slowly. which simon notices only pisses you off more.

your fingers are drumming against the steering wheel, foot tapping the gas, and you’re literally riding the ass of the poor bastard in front of you.

“i will take both of us out if you don’t hurry it the fuck up.”

you’re punctuating your words with more taps on the gas. you aren’t screaming like before but your voice is borderline demonic.

finally they make a turn. you all but obliterate the gas pedal as you take off, and let out the breath you had been holding this entire time.

when you turn to peek over at simon, his eyes are glued to you, practically bulging out of his head.

and he has no idea whether he should be scared or horny.

[rileyslibrary]

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

[amaranthinespirit]

cowboy!simon riley and city girl!reader when your car breaks down on the side of the road in the countryside

you weren't from around here, it was obvious in the way you dressed, and acted. hell, even the car you drove just screamed that you were from the city.

though if that didn't give it away, maybe it was the fact that your tiny little car was now parked—broken down—on the side of the road. a hand on your hip and the other wiping the sweat from your forehead as the blistering sun beat down on you.

you were convinced you were royally fucked—that you would be stuck to a night in your car. there wasn't any service, and there sure as hell wasn't anyone around.

at least that's what you thought until a massive, dirtied truck pulled off the road in front of your car. you swallowed a knot in the back of your throat that only travelled down to your stomach as you watched a tall, intimidating guy step out from the battered vehicle. his boots kicked against the road, scraping the tiny, loose rocks on the asphalt.

a cowboy hat hung low on his head, a fully black bandana tied around his face that covered his nose and lips, leaving only his dark, daunting eyes to sear into yours. his thumb hooked through the denim belt loop of his jeans, his other arm swaying by his side as he walked to the front of your car, which looked pathetically small next to his.

a quick look under the hood told him all he needed to know—with you and the car. he saw the way your eyes seemed to linger on his exposed arms after he had rolled up his sleeves. the dirt smudges along his skin, the dark ink of his tattoo and the veins that strained as he tinkered through the different parts of your car.

he claimed that he could fix it tomorrow—he didn't have the tools with him! he claimed, but really, they were lying in the bed of his truck, but he didn't want to let such a pretty little thing like you go so quickly. he wanted to have a bit of fun first!

so he offered you a nice stay at his little farmhouse, with the promise of warm food and a comfortable bed to sleep on, and who were you to resist? it was either that, or sleep in the backseat of your car—and you knew which one you would've preferred.

"fuck, such a pretty little thing, ain't ya?" he praises with a beer in one hand, the other veined hand wrapped up in your silky hair, helping your body in pulling back into his cock. the couch creaked and rocked under the consistent shifting weight as he pistoned his hips forward.

the rocking of his hips was restrained in order to not spill his beer—otherwise he would've loved to completely wreck you on his meaty cock.

"gon' hafta keep ya around, ain't tha' right?" he grunted before taking a swift sip from the bottle.

when the beer got to the end of the bottle and he set the glass down, you were in trouble. with a swift movement, he had pulled out enough so only the angry tip of his cock teased your hole, slick with your arousal before driving his bulbous dick back into your sensitive pussy.

his hips pounded against your ass, turning your flesh red as the sound of skin slapping together carried through the house. his balls slapping against your glistening pussy with every slamming thrust, the sensation making your eyes roll back. he was determined to make a mess of you—more so than he already did.

his fist clenched harder around your hair as the other went to your shoulder, a bruising grip against your flesh. he growled at the mindless moans spilling from your lips, only making him even more driven to fuck you brainless.

and don't worry, he will.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Friend-to-Lover!Ghost who stares longingly when you're not looking. He looks at you like you hung his moon and stars, like you're his entire universe. And to him, you are his entire universe.

Friend-to-Lover!Ghost who memorizes your drink order whether you're in a café or a bar. He has you find a table for the two of you and comes back with the exact drink you've been having the entire he has known you. His eyes sparkle when you tell him that he puts more effort in remembering your order than any of your exes.

Friend-to-Lover!Ghost who takes you out to a shooting range so you can work out all of the rage you have when a now-ex of yours cheats on you. If you don't know how to shoot a gun, he stands behind you and helps you, making his heart race at how close you two are. He grumpily mutters something about how you deserve better than the people you've been dating.

Friend-to-Lover!Ghost who nods so easily when you rant and rave about how you two should just stay away from relationships after you both break up with someone. He listens to you say how the only love worth having is platonic and familial love and while his heart breaks a little bit, he's just happy to have you loving him platonically.

Friend-to-Lover!Ghost who offers to kiss you when the clock strikes 12 on New Years because you've been jokingly complaining about having no one to kiss when the ball drops. He's so pleased with himself when you agree to his offer and he doesn't hesitate to make good on the offer when the ball drops. He cradles you in his arms and kisses you like it's his last night on Earth.

Friend-to-Lover!Ghost who doesn't forget about the kiss after you've probably have and he starts doing subtle romantic things with you to show you that he's serious about you. He's determined to make you know that he'll be better than everyone else.

Friend-to-Lover!Ghost who relishes when you finally admit your feelings for him and ask him out on a date. He takes you out to a fancy restraint and treats you like the royalty you are. And when he drops you back home and walks you to the door, he promises that he'll always treat you the way you deserve to and that you'll never have to wonder if he's loyal to you. He kisses you before you go inside.

[fallenneziah]

Virgin!Reader who is shy and closed off about the idea of their first time. Who is hesitant when first getting with Ghost.

Virgin!Reader who gets in bed with their collosal boyfriend and is immediately a blushing mess when he touches them.

Virgin!Reader who has almost zero stamina and can cum on Ghost's fingers easily as he pumps his thick, calloused fingers deep inside. Purring sweet pet names in their ear and making them feel so good. Whimpering from the sensitivity.

Virgin!Reader who drools over Ghost's cock despite it's large size. Whimpering and asking if it'll hurt and if it'll fit as he lubes his cock.

"Only a little bit sweetheart. It'll feel really good after, I promise." He whispers against your ear, feeling so fucking hard from the idea of corruption you into his sweet little whore.

Virgin!Reader who clenches on Ghost's cock, mewling and letting out the sluttiest, unfiltered noises as Ghost starts to move, loving the feeling of just his cock sliding slowly in and out of you.

Ghost who is slow and gentle with you at first, peppering you in kisses and making you feel loved and adored, but the lewd sounds of your hole absolutely begging for more of him makes him feral.

Getting rough with you, fucking you hard, rubbing and stroking you, making you feel so fucking good. Hand clasped in your hair, calling you his sweet girl/boy. "There it is, fuck, you're so tight around me angel," he will curse, teeth grit against your shoulder or watching your back arch.

Virgin!Reader who absolutely eats it up. Cumming on his cock until their hips jolt and they have salty sweet tears rolling down their cheeks. Puffy lips and sore vocal chords from everything he's done to you.

Ghost who can feel the damp sheets under him from you absolutely leaking from the way he's treating you.

How you try to dirty talk back but your words are slurred and you can't make out a thought with his thick cock stretching you out ruthlessly.

Virgin!Reader whose told not to cum but can't stop from jerking, hips uneasy and organ abused and oversensitive from the amount of orgasms.

Virgin!Reader who passes out when Ghost gets really going, the pleasure too much for them before they find themselves back awake and being pumped full of seed.

Ghost who couldn't help himself, filling his baby to the brim with his nut, tainting your insides as his and only his. Claiming you, ruining you into his perfect partner.

Ghost who gives you the sweetest aftercare. Full of kisses, soft words of praise, caressing and holding you. Chances are he'll keep his cock buried in your warmth for a while longer, or maybe he'll pull out and watch his cum drip from your writhing entrance. If he does he'll be instantly hard and ready for more.

Seeing your fucked out look and how much rest you need just from one round of him playing rough up with your body.

Knowing that he's left you unable to ever seek pleasure from another man because your first experience was with him and he has never left anyone unsatisfied.

Knowing he's tainted you into someone who now thinks of his cock two times a day and whimpers when he has to leave for long times at work, knowing you'll miss his cock.

And that's how he likes it. Knowing you'll be missing him, wanting him and no one else. He's made you hungry, he's corrupted you and he couldn't be more proud.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Locker Room

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts

A/N: For @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge. I used prompts 43, 97, & 99. (I had so much fun challenging myself to do this all in one go. I set a timer and everything.)

After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.

Part Two // Simon's POV

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Beneath your skin is an inferno.

It’s not the kind that blazes for another, or burns in tandem with a deep yearning. This is just seething anger and blunt frustration.

You’re ready to knock out some fucking teeth.

How dare he? Who the fuck does Lieutenant Riley think he is?

When you return reports to Captain Price, you point out all the inconsistences and errors. The lack of accountability and absolute carelessness has been scratching at you for ages, and this time you had enough. Usually Price shrugs, fixes whatever you’ve marked—to a degree—and then returns them without argument.

This time? Price took one look at them and told you to talk to Simon.

Not a problem. No issue at all. You and Lieutenant Riley have always been on good terms. Sometimes, it’s been more than good. You’ve caught him staring for far too long, or he stands a bit too close as if the two of you are a couple and not coworkers. And while you’ve internalized the fantasy, it’s not like you’ve ever acted on it.

But now you’re just irritated.

You handed over the files yesterday evening, and this morning you found them back on your desk. It’s not the turnaround but Lieutenant Riley’s audacity of placing those files back on your desk with a singular sticky note.

The reports are just fine, sweetheart.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart?

The other day you imagined what it might be like to have the burly, masked man call you a pet name, but this is just fucking condescending.

Your heels clack sharply against the linoleum floor. Perhaps it’s the rage in your face, because every person you meet on your rampage steps out of your way, their gaze averted. Rounding a corner, you exit through a side door and into one of the hangars. A few people glance up, frowning, but return to their job.

Sighing heavily, you approach the nearest person. “Where’s Lieutenant Riley?”

The young man—who looks right out recruitment—glances up. He swallows and peers over his shoulder as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. “Locker room, ma’am?”

“Thank you,” you reply sharply, turning on your heel and heading for another door leading to the communal gym.

“But—” he begins, stumbling to his feet as you charge on. “Ma’am! You can’t—”

The door slams shut behind you and you don’t look back.

This is one of several communal spaces. There are the usual training areas on base but there are also a few gyms for those that want to get a bit of extra work in. Every head turns toward you and many don’t look away. This one is just for the men, and you’re the odd duck.

And fuck it. You don’t care. You’re too fucking mad right now to think of anything else but giving Lieutenant Riley a piece of your goddamn mind.

With everything pumping in your veins, the reality of you storming toward the locker rooms hasn’t even dawned. Hasn’t clicked. Fury laces your every step, and even here, where you’re not supposed to be, the men in your path move as if they sense the rage.

When you burst through the door and meet a wall of steam, all the heat suddenly extinguishes. Glancing around, you’re met with wide-eyed stares and surprised expressions.

Keeping your gaze as upward as you can, you clear your throat. “Where is Lieutenant Riley?”

There is only silence. Maybe if you stare at the top of the lockers for long enough, you’ll somehow gather your courage again.

“I asked where Lieutenant—”

“I’m right here.”

You turn abruptly and freeze.

Lieutenant Simon Riley stands before you in nothing but a towel. It hangs low on his hips. Other than that, the bottom-half of his face is covered up by a black mask and his dog tags dangle from his neck. His hair is a wet, tussled mess, and his chest glistens with water like he just stepped out from the shower.

Simon simply stares at you for a moment as you stand in utter silence. His gaze, which is piercing and fierce, slides away to scan the room. He doesn’t have to say anything. The rest of the men in the room grab bags and clothes, rushing to exit through the door you just entered from.

When the last man leaves, Simon rolls his shoulders, straightening his spine. It makes him appear larger, more intimidating, and that one movement draws forth a heat in your belly. This isn’t anger. This is need.

“I know what you came here for,” he says, and it’s so casual a tone that the earlier rage comes rising up.

“I’m sure you do,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

Simon says nothing. His dark eyes remain on you, unmoving and cold, yet pinning you to the spot as if you’ve been impaled by a spear.

“Are you going to apologize?”

“Why?” he asks automatically.

You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”

“You didn’t come here for an apology.”

You uncross your arms and hold them out in front of you, bent at the elbows. “The reports—”

“The reports are fine.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in the air. “There are inconsistencies everywhere. I can’t submit them as they are.”

Simon rolls his neck and then strides forward. Instinct has you stepping back, moving away, but you bump into a row of lockers. He doesn’t stop until he’s leaning over you, one large hand pressing into the metal to the side of your head.

“You’re nitpicking,” he replies.

“About lazy writing?”

“Oh, love. I assure you. I’m thorough.” At that, Simon leans in, and your hands rise instinctually, pressing against his firm chest.

Simon’s gaze doesn’t drop from your face. His entire attention is on you and that heat is back, twisting in your stomach, stirring up a slickness between your legs.

“Lieutenant,” you breathe, wanting the need between your legs to leave but also loving how close he is.

Sure, you’re pissed off but my god. The fresh scent of him is intoxicating, and you’re doing everything in your power not to lean in and lick up the droplet of water running along the side of his throat.

“Why did you come here?” He waits a beat, and when you don’t reply, Simon continues. “To argue?” He lightly pinches your bottom chin, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit. You open your mouth involuntarily and Simon makes at sound in his throat that makes your legs weak. “To see me?” He leans in like he’s about to kiss you. “To be alone?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.

Simon has you caged in. Pinned. The only thing separating your body and his is that towel.

“Why do you think everyone left when they did?” Simon’s thumb drops away from your lips only to press at the hollow of your throat. “It’s not because you walked in.”

“Why?” you ask, as Simon’s thumb drags lowers over your top to the space between your breasts.

“Because you’re mine. And they know it.”

“You—what?” Without anywhere to go, you can’t escape his intense stare.

“I’m staking a claim.”

“Lieutenant—”

“Simon,” he growls. “Call me Simon.”

“Simon,” you say, and he groans.

His dog tags brush against your fingers. The metal is slightly cool and damp. You curl on finger around the chain, and tug, bringing Simon’s face down to yours. If he can tease and touch, you’re going to do the same. He can’t have all the power.

Your lips brush against his through the mask, and Simon’s eyelids begin to close, revealing his gentle submission in this moment. Deepening the movement, you kiss him as if there were no barrier. This time, he truly groans, and you’d give anything to remove the barriers between you and find out what it’s like to feel him deep inside.

Fisting his dog tags in your hand, you shove him away, but only enough that there is a fraction of distance.

“Fix the fucking reports, Simon.”

Instead of kissing him again, or even touching him, you unclench your fist, releasing the dog tags. Slipping under his arm, you exit through the door and out into the gym, leaving a trail of steam in your wake.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666

@unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @enfppuff

@cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06

@therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605

@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[ltash]

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Credits:

@yumethefrostypanda

Roxana Silva- Pinterest

I know last pic is Ai but I found it hot so I posted.

[lethalchiralium]

simon cooks a lot.

only when he’s home with you and the girls, no one else. he’s not a five star chef by any means, but when the food is served, everyone’s bellies are full and warm of food that tastes like home.

he’s happy with his beef stir fry, his mac and cheese (a recipe he only learned to charm you), and his lemon butter chicken and rice. winnie always asks for seconds, mellie doesn’t throw it on the floor for the cat, you always wipe your plate clean.

he doesn’t like how his chicken pot pie comes out, or the shepherd’s pie, or any of the fruit pies he has tried to make for you. you three still demolish them anyway. anything he thinks doesn’t look good or won’t be good in general, his family is still happy to eat because he made it.

he’s proud of providing for his family with more than just money. he’s proud to provide love, security, and bellies full of a home cooked meal. he’s proud of himself for being the husband and father he wanted to be, the man who gives his family his all.

he would never trade his girls’ happiness for anything in the world. maybe for a better chicken pot pie recipe.

[dmitriene]

plink inspiration

humping simon riley's cock, you're in your panties, soft, cottony fabric sticking wet with drippy slick to your puffy folds, as you glide across the engorged, thick girth of his throbbing cock, rudy tip spilling pearly precum that soils your underwear and turns his pale skin all tacky, gleaming under the warm light of the night lamp.

he doesn't urges your movements, warm palms holding onto your thighs as you roll your hips tentatively, pressing heavy on simon's erection through every spill of his precum, soaking your already slick stained panties through gruff, grunted moans, fluttering eyes heavy lidded, pale eyelashes sweeping across his cheekbones while he gazes you up and down.

you're both tired, a quick fuck simon offered before the sleep turned in just mindless humping, while you drag your pantied, warm pussy over his spasming, rippling cock, over every webbing, glistening vein, gazing at the reddening crown before you twist your hips, making your clit bump against his swollen, bulbous tip, riding on it with gasping, lazy little moans.

the slow, gliding movements is enough to make simon cum, spilling the thick, milky ropes over his abdomen and soaking in your panties, warm against your fluttering, pulsing cunt as you gush in your underwear, stretching glistening strings from where you were seated on simon's jerking cock, as you shift to slip your panties off your hips, exposing the sight of your pussy.

the fabric rolls down your legs along the dragging of your fingers, while you roll to sit against the pillows, taking the soiled, sodden panties to wipe simon's cum off his twitching abdomen and cock, humming a murmured apology when he hisses at the brief overstimulation, before you drop your underwear off on the floor and curl yourself into his side, nuzzling closer and falling asleep.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[spookypete-94]

Pregnant by Proxy

SimonRileyxPregnant!Reader

Have had this idea in my head for many, many months. Finally just decided to do it- even if it seems strange to some.

Triggers for medical inaccuracies, language, minor angst, still born mentioned

What triggered it all is you not showing up. Being Laswell’s right hand while she was Watcher, given you the opportunity to assist Task Force 141 on multiple missions. So much, they considered you a part of their team.

Here instead, Simon Riley stood back watching you from afar. He had hunted you down and located you in your hometown. Something he was never ever supposed to do. There was a no contact rule for them outside of their work. Price enforced it for safety reasons. But Simon just couldn’t stand not knowing where you were or what had happened. That was unsafe for him. He needed to see you, needed to make sure you were alright.

“I can’t tell you much, just that she will not be attending this mission.” Laswell spoke from the computer screen during their video call meant to be a mission brief for the 4 of them.

“She ok at least?” Price asked, looking up over the stack of papers in his hands up at the camera.

You had made your mark on all of them… but maybe not as dark or inflicted as you had on Simon.

“Medical emergency back at home. I know you guys are worried about her, but I really can’t disclose anymore.” Laswell’s voice firmer, protecting you.  “She deserves privacy and her time off.” Something you had earned away from them.

Simon couldn’t help but pipe up. “When will she be back?” You are an asset to this team, as much to his spirit.

A heavy sigh from Laswell, “We need to focus on the task ahead.” She was putting up a wall. How dare you leave without relaying some sort of word to him…

What had happened to you?

That was the moment Simon knew he needed to find you. You were at risk, something had happened. Did you get sent somewhere without him and hurt? Are you bruised and bloody? Had someone laid hands on you? Dangerous as you were… Simon couldn’t help feeling that you were fragile. He had seen you in the most intimate of ways on more than one occasion. Perhaps that had changed his perception of the clarity of body. Fragile like clay figurine, porous and breakable. Skin smooth, even though littered with scars in places. Special, is the way to describe you to him. You understood him. An extension of his peace.

So, he finished the mission. Angrier than he had ever been at the end of one. Days drawn out, even though it only took them a week to find their target and take him into custody. It was a success, a record in apprehending someone capable of such violence. Little did the Task Force know, Ghost’s unbridled rage of procrastinating the ability to find you, the result of such a feat.

Price knew something was up when Ghost had turned down the interrogation of the suspect. This was his forte. One of his best qualities of finding intel was beating a man into submission. Glancing with a side eye filled with suspicion, Price then closed it. Halfway knowing what Ghost was up to, the fact that Simon now needed this. He needed to know you were alive.

There were a few times you would tell him stories of your hometown and family after you would connect and lay naked together. He enjoyed it. It distracted his mind while his brain would close his eyes and imagine it. Never once did you tell him where you from or the name of the town… but he had seen it so many times in his mind’s eye, he had just an inkling of where it was hidden.

Imagine his surprise when had finally found you outside your favorite coffee house. A small coffee in your hand… and a swollen belly round in front of you as you slowly waddled away from him. He had stood back near the corner about 3 buildings away from you, following you ever so slowly.

Shock had filled his system. He could walk away now… in fact he fully wanted to bolt and sprint in a different direction. He knew you were safe, alive and clearly thriving… but he had more questions now then when he did about your absence.

Feeling like you were being watched made you turn around. Eyes instantly locked on the black shadow that was following you.

“Simon?” Your sweet voice called to him, filled with confusion and happiness.

“Wanted to see you…” Was all he could mumble out as he approached.

Awkwardly you tried hard to lurch to him, hard to do so when your counterbalance was way off.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” a rushed hiss to him, as you tried to lay your head into his chest. It was difficult with how round you were, the babe pressing you away.

His finger guided under your chin, lifting it up so he could see your eyes. Tears welled in them that he brushed back with a thumb. Fucking hormones.

“Missed you,” you repeated. Somehow even through all your emotions, the glow on you was so strong and intense. How beautiful.

Simon remained quiet, while he tried to decide how far along you were. The time frame… seemed possible, but he wasn’t entirely sure. The time away from you seemed so much longer. He wanted to ask, he needed to know this now. Sure, he wanted to run at the same time, but you were important to him. This was important to him.

“Is it mine?” He asked his palm spreading over the circumference.

You stood there unable to speak. It was such a long story. Words hindered, closed off. Instead, you shook your head with a slow no. Regret written all over your face.

Instantly, the rage returned to him. Of course he wasn’t good enough for you. That’s why you left. That’s why everyone eventually does. How dare you be so important to him….

Turning on heel, he pushed past the crowd of people nearby trying to get away from you. Anger blinding him, deafening your calling out.

“Simon!! Wait!! She’s not mine either!!” Trying your hardest to run after him.

What?

He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to turn to look at you yet. The same tears that had stung yours now been transferred to his. Had he really wanted this with someone so bad before?

Your hand pressed into his back letting him know you were still there.

“She’s my sisters… it’s a really long fucked up story, but she is my sister’s.”

Abstract. This whole thing was completely abstract and fucking strange. You were being a surrogate to it all.

“What?” Simon said again, finally turning around, his head looking to the side, still not fully able to look at you yet. He needed clarification, needed to comprehend you hadn’t betrayed him.

“I went on leave because my sister was pregnant and went into labor at about eight and half months…but something had happened. She got this blood infection in her uterus causing a still birth. And when it did, it made things happen to her reproductive organs so she would never be able to carry a baby again…They had to take it all out.” A heavy breath left you, as you started to explain, a shake he could hear in your voice, one that and couldn’t ignore.

He turned back around, finally able to look at you again. To you, it was like the break of dawn and the sun greeting the Earth for the first time. He was listening to you. This whole time you were fearful of losing him… but here he was standing before you. Shining like the sun every morning, a wordless pact.

“My sister… she lost her baby and I saw what it did to her. This is all she has ever wanted was to be a mother, and her chance has been taken from her. So, when the doctor said they had saved some of her eggs…I knew I had to do this for her.” Taking his hand, you placed it back on your belly, sprawling his long fingers over it. “This baby isn’t yours… and she isn’t mine. That doesn’t make her any less important though. Just know I had to do this for her.”

His hand was warm. Radiating warmth into you. It gave so much into you, like you had just spewed out back to him.

Did he doubt you?

“I was on my way to an appointment. Why don’t you come with me and maybe that will help you understand.”

A compromise. Let me make this right.

Sliding his hand across your belly, over to your hand he took it and gripped it, squeezing once in awhile. His quiet assurance. So, you led the way. The sail to his boat, teaching and guiding him.

The room was white. White bed, white paper covering it. White walls. White Floor. So much white it hurt for him to look at. Carefully, he stood next to you, letting you climb on the bed to lay down.

“Where is your sister?” A valid question. He would think if this was her baby, she would want to know details, right?

“Work. I think it still hurts her to come sometimes… She has come to a few in the very beginning, but as it gets closer it scares her.”

A valid response.

“You been coming by yourself?”

A slight shrug of your shoulders. “I have…” That hurt him to know you were doing a majority of this alone.

“How did you…?” He said looking down and looking back up at you.

“Conceive?” Unsure if that was what he was asking or not. “Artificial. They planted the embryo after it was fertilized."

Oh, thank God. The relief written on his face makes you laugh.

“Don’t worry. No one else has been inside me in that way. I would never let anyone, let alone my brother-in-law.” Still chuckling.

“Better not.” The only words he could say in his embarrassment of thinking so.

In walked the doctor, who looked over at the mountain of a man.

“Well, hello. Is his him then?” She pointed to him and looked back at you.

“It is.” A smile radiating back at her, truly at your happiest.

The doctor glanced back over at him. “She has talked about you quite a bit and how much she wished you could be here. It’s hard, what she is doing for someone else, but I’m glad her person is here with her now. Your girl’s quite brave.” Rolling across the floor of the room on her stool.

Simon was dumb founded; you had talked about him to someone else? Did he really mean that much to you too?

“Now let’s have a look.”

Rolling your shirt up, exposing that smooth skin to him one more time. It’s been so long since he had last seen it, and here it had changed so much but remained stunning to him.

The doctor measured it before pulling out the doppler to hear the heartbeat. A soft whooshing noise was instantly recognized, making you close your eyes and smile. It was so surreal to Simon. Like he was on the outside looking in. He had the opportunity to see you in this light… and somehow it still was that way for you too. Knowing you were carrying this baby… but it wasn’t entirely yours either.

“Your niece is looking wonderful. See you at your thirty-six-week appointment. Will be once a week starting then.” Niece… A reminder that you were grateful for this baby, but a deep part of you wished it was daughter.

Somehow, he had made it to the checkout desk with you and hadn’t even realized it.

“Can I list you as an emergency contact?” the question that brought him back to reality. Your eyes were looking up at him, pen and paper in your hand before you wrote his name down.

“Sure,” he said taking the pen and paper, scribbling his number down next to his name. Who said anything about no contact outside of work again?

Ending the day, you brought him back to your home. Allowing him to see more of your personal life. Baring it all to him today. His fragile figurine, safe and protected now that he had found her once more. Never again would you be out of his sights. He will see to fix that, all on his own.

Two hands started at your hips before snaking around, his arms fully embraced you from behind. He lifted up on your heavy belly, taking the weight off your hips. A pleasant groan emitted from you. How good did that feel.

“Such a nice thing you are doing for your sister… but next time, the baby in there is going to be ours.” His mouth hot and heavy next to your ear, before running his tongue from the bottom up. It made your skin run hot and cold all at once, goosebumps in the wake on your skin.

“Going to be such a good mother,” his hand trailing down your belly and onto your thigh before squeezing it. “I want this to be safe and healthy for you all, but as soon as you can… I’m fillin’ you with my own. As many as you’ll let me.” Grinding into you, imagining you swollen with his seed making him aroused.

“I missed you.” You whispered out the thrice time today.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

[the-palelady]

the only thing reaching simon’s ears is the sound of your pathetic little moans, breath heavy and labored, eyes shut taut. your fingers grabbing at the silk sheets beneath you, holding on as if you were falling. but simon would always catch you even if you did slip from his grasp.

“eyes up here, angel,” he whispered down to you, leaning forward to plant a lingering kiss against the damp skin of your forehead. slowly your eyes opened just the slightest bit.

“bit more. let me see those beautiful eyes.”

and when you opened them the rest of the way, simon could see hearts looking back at him, your expression dazed.

“there she is.” his lengthy fingers were wrapped around the circumference of your waist, hands not far from one another with how big they were wrapped around you. he held onto you, not too tight, but enough to keep you locked in place while his hips pressed up into you, cock gliding along the velvety wetness of your pussy.

“si…si i…i can’t take anymore,” you whined helplessly, bottom lip jutting out and quivering when his bulbous tip poked at a sensitive spot.

“come on, love. you can take it. just a bit more for me, ya?”

[babygirl-riley]

Welcome Home

You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy

“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”

A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.

Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.

Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”

You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.

“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.

It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.

“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.

Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.

“I can get…”

“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”

Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”

“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”

You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.

You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.

Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.

Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.

It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.

“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”

You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.

Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”

Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’

Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.

Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.

“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”

He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”

You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.

Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.

His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”

“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”

“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.

Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.

“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”

Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.

You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Ways I think Simon “Ghost” Riley asks for consent without explicitly asking.

MDNI, This Blog & Post Aren’t For Minors!! This gets sexual real quickly, but Reader's pronouns aren’t specified.

His thumb brushes across your bottom lip when he wants to kiss you, waiting to see if you lean into the touch.

His fingers gently grip the hem of your shirt or the waistband of your pants, silently asking you if he can undress you. He does this with each and every article he wants to undress.

He’ll give you a very heated once-over when you’re both laying in bed, showing off the bulge in his pants/boxers so you know how horny he is.

Trails his fingers up your thigh (clothed or unclothed) and stops just short of where your sex is, his head in your neck so he can listen to if your breath hitches in arousal at his touching.

Spreads his legs open and pats his waiting thigh when sitting on the couch. It’s similar to the bed one, since his bulge is prominent.

Settles himself between your legs, putting his beefy hands on the insides of your thighs. Leaves the decision up to you, you can choose to beg for more or just be content with him between your thighs.

If you have hickeys from previous sexual encounters with him, he’ll trace them to tell you that he’s thinking of giving you more.

Leaves your towel on the bed when you come home and he’s showering, the towel a form of invitation to join him.

If you’re already naked and done with one round (or several), he squeezes your hips twice to signal he's ready for another round if you are.

He rubs his noses against yours before parting his lips slightly, mouthing motions made when kissing.

His eyes have trouble straying from your lips, trying hard to look you in the eyes only for his attention to dart back to your lips. He might even lick his own lips, if you're both alone and he doesn't have his mask or balaclava on.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[fallenneziah]

Alpha!Ghost who has never had an omega on his team, most of them comprised of other alphas and betas.

Alpha!Ghost who gets you on his team and can immediately tell something is different and whatever it is, he can't tell if he likes it.

Alpha!Ghost who starts to find his instincts to fight and protect turn to growling at you, backing you into a corner and feeling his pride swell when you submit with the equivalent of a pup in trouble.

Alpha!Ghost who likes to push you around, show you his strength. Grabbing your arms and telling you where to go, getting an extra thrill from being in command of you.

Alpha!Ghost who stays up late at night, remembering those times he saw you bow under his tone and nearly whimper when he told you to do something. Fisting his cock to the memories of you submitting and willing yourself to his command.

Alpha!Ghost who smell your heat before anyone else. He knows it's there, he's never done anything sexual with you, but he knows about it.

Omega!Reader who tries to block their scent and hide, curling into their nest and humping their pillow desperately while whimpering.

Omega!Reader whose heat only gets worse, scent getting thicker with need and arousal. Getting the attention of other alphas along the base.

Alpha!Ghost who is locked in his office, smelling you through the vents and ruthlessly fisting his cock. Thinking about sticking his knot inside you and making you his.

Alpha!Ghost who can barely contain himself and the thought of someone else getting to you first drives him.

Rushing to your room and pushing anyone else away. He heads inside, closing and locking the door.

Omega!Reader who can smell Ghosts scent immediately but is too snuggled in their den, too high on arousal that they can't care to do anything except mewl and arch in the presence of his scent.

Alpha!Ghost who feels his cock getting 7xs as hard with being so close. Seeing your cute little den and the idea of taking you and filling you up in your safe space.

Alpha!Ghost who has both instincts to be dominant and also caring, crawling over you and pressing his chest to your back, cupping hour skin. Kissing along your neck and nipping your ear, asking if you want it.

Omega!Reader begging Ghost incoherently to stuff them and fill them, to make them his. And Ghost who listening.

Wasting no time in getting his cock out, shoving his fingers inside your dripping, aching hole and stretching you out while listening to your lewd, unfiltered filthy noises.

Growling to silence you, grabbing your throat to keep you in your pillows.

Alpha!Ghost who tears off his sweater and shirt, putting them in your den and forcing your face into them so you can smell his sweat and cologne. So you can get off smelling your alpha.

Alpha!Ghost who gets his cock inside you, unable to control himself any more as he relishes in your tight hole. Shoving his swelling cock inside your desperately, eager entrance and pounding you deep into your safe place.

Alpha!Ghost who can smell the other alphas outside and is licking his lips because he gets you. He gets this pretty, soaked hole, he gets the little omega who he's been fisting his cock to for months.

Knowing he's won. And he gets to fill you, he gets to drive his seed inside you and knot you with his pups.

Alpha!Ghost who growls at you purely so you'll whine more for him and arch your pretty little ass. Clawing at your hips and burrowing you so deep into your pillows by force.

Omega!Reader who cums multiple times in 20 minutes just from smelling Ghost's clothes. Then having his cock stretching them and making them feel from another universe.

Spluttering and whimpering to be filled.

Alpha!Ghost who slams his knot deep inside you, grunting as he fills you up with his cum, your stomach pushing out a little, his knot keeping him tied to you.

Omega!Reader who whimpers and shivers as Ghost rubs their tummy, gently guiding them down to the bed, cooing in their ear and kissing their lobe.

"Oh I got you sweetheart... Easy, love." He'll whisper, laying down behind you, holding you gently.

Pressing soft, slow kisses to you, making sure you're comfortable. Letting his cock remain in you, even well past his knot swelling down he stays inside you. Relishing it.

"There it is... Took me so well, so good, love." He'll praise, rubbing your tummy gently to try and soothe you. So so proud of you, taking his cock like that...

Part 2, 3, 4

[gloomwitchwrites]

DMs & DNA

Simon "Ghost" Riley x TF141 Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, situationship / friends w/ benefits, possessive behavior, post-coital sweetness, Simon marking his territory, brief threat of violence, teasing, non-explicit sex

Word Count: 1.2k

Simon becomes territorial when a recent recruit tries to steal you out from under him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // summer 2024 masterlist

You’re tight and perfect and all fucking his.

Simon moans against your throat with lips pressed to your skin as he does his fucking best to remain in control of himself. He’s failing. Completely falling apart.

Your whimper is too sweet, and the way your body squeezes him has him dizzy. Your orgasm blooms—flows outward, and Simon’s autonomy slips from under him. Somehow, you’re good at seizing all of his control—claiming it for you own. Do you even realize you do it? Do you know how you affect him?

Simon knows. It happens all the time.

Brushing a few strands of hair over your shoulder, Simon leaves a tentative kiss in the curve of your neck. Beneath him, you shiver, head turning toward him as if you’re ticklish from the attention.

“We’ve been away too long,” you murmur, breaking the peacefulness settling over Simon’s senses.

Simon hooks an arm around your waist. “No one is looking for us.”

It’s likely true. Simon made sure that the two of you would be alone—that no one would interrupt. But time flows differently when you’re enjoying yourself.

Glancing at his watch, Simon frowns. You’re right. The two of you have been gone for longer than anticipated. It’s not ideal but it can’t be helped.

Simon doesn’t want to part. He wants to take you home, to linger with you beneath the sheets, to have his way with your body. But this has not happened, and Simon isn’t sure that it ever will. The two of you meet in storage closets, empty offices, and locker room showers for quick fucks.

It’s not a relationship.

It’s not anything.

You’re a member of the team. A friend. A coworker.

And yet it is him that you always turn to.

The desire for more sits hot in his chest. Simon has tried to coax you away to more private venues but you always step around it—avoiding to the point that Simon doesn’t entirely understand your motivations.

It’s fucking confusing, and while Simon longs to press you for answers, he doesn’t want to push you away.

Slowly, Simon eases from your body. Your little moan at his retreat is already making him hard again—wanton. It’s not fucking fair. These small moments are not enough.

There is no condom. There is only slickness. And Simon has to control the urge to slide his fingers between your legs and push the mess back in.

As he steps away, you hastily hoist your pants, securing the front button and zipper. Smoothing the front of your shirt, you begin fussing with your hair. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your brow.

“Do I look okay?” you ask sheepishly.

You look fucking beautiful, love.

“Like I never fucked you at all,” replies Simon.

You grin devilishly and lightly smack his chest. Simon snags your wrist and brings your knuckles to his lips, placing a quick kiss there before dropping your hand. It’s not enough intimacy. Simon craves more.

With an embarrassed nervousness, you tuck some hair behind your ear and brush past him, heading for the shut door. Slowly, you press the handle down, cracking the door slightly. There are no sounds that drift in.

The coast is clear.

You glance over your shoulder at Simon, grinning softly.

“See you later,” you murmur, disappearing like a magic trick.

Simon stands alone in the little room, arms hanging at his sides. Every alternative passes through his mind. How can he coax you to him? How can he make you see that you should belong to him?

He chews on his bottom lip, irritation growing in his stomach. With an annoyed growl, Simon secures his balaclava back into place, storming from the room without caring who sees. There is red beneath his skin. Simon needs to expel this excess energy.

He heads for the training room, and even here he cannot escape you.

One of the new recruits has a hand pressed against the wall as he looms over you. The two of you are chatting as you complete dumbbell reps. While your face is neutral, the man’s is animated. It’s not friendly either. It’s sly—smarmy. The guy is making a move.

Simon tries and fails to recall the new recruit’s name. They arrive, complete some training, and then go elsewhere. That’s how it always is. Simon never cares to learn their names or anything about them. If they aren’t on his team, he could give a fuck.

It’s not you Simon is worried about. He’s looked at your phone. He’s seen your DMs. There are plenty of men here who try. Who reach out in the hopes that you might sprinkle them with some attention. But you’re no barracks bunny. You don’t hop from bed to bed.

The only man you’re fucking is Simon.

And that’s exactly how he wants it.

Simon takes a post near the boxing bags. He puts on gloves, and beats away at the sand until his shoulders ache from the repetitive strikes. Keeping an eye on you is easy. Between reps, Simon observers, watching, noting how you give the man nearly nothing. It please Simon to know that you’re not interested in anyone but him.

When you head for the showers, Simon does not follow even though he’d fucking love to. He keeps his gaze on the recruit who watches you leave. The wanker unabashedly stares at your ass. Simon flings down his towel, and stalks toward his prey. This bastard has no idea Simon is walking up on him. Has no idea that Simon’s about to mark his territory.

The guy selects the bench press and Simon grins menacingly behind the balaclava.

“Need a spotter?” asks Simon casually.

The guy nods. “Sure, man. Thanks.”

You’re fucking death, mate.

Simon glances at the weights on either end of the bar. He rolls his eyes. Simon can bench twice this amount without breaking a sweat. He takes position behind the recruit, standing directly next to his head.

Slipping his hands beneath the bar, Simon helps guide it out of the track. The metal is cool. Simon lets go. The weight drops.

The new recruit wheezes, eye bulging as the combined weight hits his ribcage, rolling upward toward his neck. Simon does not stop it. Doesn’t try to prevent what might be fractured ribs or a crushed esophagus.

Instead, Simon crouches next to the choking man, menace in his tone.

“You might be in her DMs. You might be sweet talking her. But it’s me that drips down her legs when she walks.”

All Simon hears are squeaks of trapped air.

“You fucking go near her. I’ll fucking crush your dick and feed it to you. Understand?”

The man’s reply is all gasping air, and is eyes water. His cheeks are starting to go red—nearly purple.

Simon tilts his head to the side and the recruit makes a hint of a nod.

It’s enough of a confirmation. Simon grabs the bar and lifts without effort, plopping it back into the track.

The recruit’s next inhale is ragged and watery. He coughs. Gasps. Plops down onto the floor and vomits. But he doesn’t get up—doesn’t come after Simon.

Good.

You’re his.

And he’s going to make sure everyone knows.

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