Actually I'm Not Done Talking About Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley Just Yet :(

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

Yan!Alexander the Great w/ Soldier's Pregnant Widow!Reader

❝ 📜 — lady l: this is a commission that I was very happy to do! I'm sorry for the delay, I confess that I had forgotten this in my drafts and only remembered it after reading your messagem, anon! I hope you enjoy it and, as requested, it is more based on Alexander's feelings for the Reader. Forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: mention of death, mourning. pregnancy and fluff.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

You were the wife of one of Alexander's cavalry soldiers who, unlike many other soldiers' wives, decided to accompany him to war. You loved your husband deeply and did not want to be separated from him.

Your husband also loved you deeply. He wasn't a general or a high-ranking officer, but your husband tried to make you as comfortable as possible in this violent environment. He was loyal to you, something rare but one you appreciated. You loved him with everything in you.

Until the day you lost him. During the Battle of Granicus, your husband died in battle and your world collapsed. You had lost the man you loved and it felt like an endless road. Alexander, being the beloved King that he was, buried the dead soldiers with the necessary honors and spoke to the wives present in the camp. And one of them was you.

Alexander was immediately enchanted by you. He was surprised at how you handled your grief, clearly you loved your husband very much and the pain of the loss you felt captivated him. He didn't take long to approach you subtly at first.

Alexander was kind and protective, offering his condolences and staying by your side. His words were kind and his discreet smiles were reserved just for you. More observant people didn't take long to notice the King's interest in you, but they never dared to say anything, not when they knew his temperament.

You found yourself lost in a sea of pain and sadness, unable to find comfort in anything around you. Alexander's comforting presence was like an anchor in the midst of the storm, offering support and compassion in such a dark time. He understood your pain as he had also lost soldiers close to him.

Alexander felt compelled to protect and care for you, not only out of gratitude for your husband's sacrifice, but also because he genuinely cared for you. His discreet smiles and kind gestures were an attempt to ease your pain, to be a ray of light amid the darkness you faced.

Although you fought your feelings, you found yourself enjoying the King's presence. But you soon discovered that you were pregnant by your late husband and you decided to focus on honoring your husband's memory and focusing on the baby growing inside you.

Alexander didn't like it at all when you tried to move away from him but he soon understood why. He wasn't angry or anything, but surprised and slightly bothered. You would have a child, something he wanted, but it wouldn't be with him. He couldn't blame you, though, it wasn't your fault.

As time passed, your belly grew and the pain of loss lessened, you found yourself more and more involved in the camp's activities, keeping yourself busy to keep away the thoughts that haunted you at night. And you found yourself increasingly close to Alexander, who made his feelings for you very clear.

He respected the fact that you weren't ready to get married due to the fact that you were pregnant, he could wait until the baby was born. But he wasn't far from you, spending his free time by your side while also taking care of you. You owned your own tent and personal effects, along with those of your late husband.

In time, your husband's child was born, and you held it in your arms with love and sadness. It was a part of him you would carry forever, a living reminder of the man you loved so much. Alexander was present and he acted as if your child were his. He didn't even like it when people mentioned it wasn't his.

You were his and your baby was his too. Alexander was skeptical about it at first but he warmed up to the idea. The mourning period is over and your child has been born, now it is time for you to become his wife and have children of his own.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧. 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤! 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 :(, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲𝐲. (𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬) 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰?!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 (𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢-𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬) 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

“Fuck.” Your whole world felt as if it was spinning, you slid slowly down the bathroom door. This, couldn’t be your reality. Your brain clouded in confusion, trying to wrap your head around your own demise. The nausea in your stomach slowly crept.

The hot salty tears flew out of your eyes uncontrollably, you finally snapped. your emotions too much to contain. You held the positive pregnancy test in your shaky and sweaty palms. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to wake you up from this nightmare, how could you be so stupid..?

Your life was already taken over by this man, his baby too. You were constantly walking on eggshells around him, you were so close to escaping. You saved up enough to afford a train ticket back to your home town.

You hadn’t had your period in months, you put it all on stress. The past year being the most miserable you’ve been since you were taken by him. His son, Megumi, had just turned 2. It was exhausting keeping up with a toddler, and an adult as immature as him.

Your life was falling apart in front of you, you were so close to the edge of freedom. Today is father’s day, ironically. Toji was at work, as usual during the day. You watched the clock click swiftly, anxiously preparing yourself for his arrival.

As you waited you began tidying up the living room, it was a mess since his son loved throwing his toys everywhere. You hurriedly put all the toys away into the toy box before starting to prepare dinner, you were craving pasta.

A wave of nausea washed over you, causing you to stumble, almost falling before catching yourself on the counter. Once you finished making the pasta you turned the oven on and placed the pasta into the oven, watching the clock closely.

Suddenly, you heard the cries of Megumi. He had awoken from his nap, and it was time for him to be fed. You walked to his nursery, pulling the infant from his crib. You watched as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“Mama?” The infant called, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“Yes, Megumi. Mama is here.” You answered, carrying the infant to the living room.

“Wea Papa.” He responded, while sucking on his thumb.

“Papa is at work, let’s get your fed before he gets home.” You pulled your shirt up, displaying your breats. Megumi began breastfeeding immediately, hungrily devouring the milk. you cringed in pain as your felt the infant’s incoming teeth scrap your nipple.

You heard the door knob to the front door shake as it twisted, the man you despised walking through the door with a smirk in his face.

“Wife, Son. Today is father’s day, I aspect both of you to be on your best behavior.” Toji said, grinning happily. He had his chest puffed up before removing his jacket and shoes.

You mastered the craft of ignoring him and Megumi, you tried to place yourself in your own world. The image of a beautiful rose garden with cushy leaves placed in your mind. However, the realization of your pregnancy completely ruined your thoughts.

You felt Megumi remove his mouth from your nipple, reaching for his dad instantly. He always chose his father over you, which you were fine with.

“Papa!” Megumi screamed, before being picked up by his dad. He kissed Toji on the cheek then squeezed his cheeks.

“Gumi! Are you excited to see your daddy, huh? Was your mommy good today?”

“Nuh Uh.” Megumi replied, pointing at you. It was obvious you were somewhere completely different mentally.

“Y/N? Helloooo?” Toji, snapped trying to break your silence.

“Oh- Im sorry. Welcome home, we missed you.” You tried to smile, trying to give the illusion that you were happy. You then kissed Toji on the cheek.

“Where’s dinner? You’ve been here all day and haven’t made any food? What the hell do you do all day, sit on your ass?” Toji argued, grabbing you by your wrist.

You cleared your throat, trying to make words come out but you couldn’t. Your despair clogged your throat, you felt tears began to gather in your eyes.

“Are you gonna cry? Seriously? You act like a little bitch, all you do is sit around and cry.” He continued, Placing Megumi in his play pen.

“Toji- dinner is in the oven. If you’re hungry now i’ll make you a plate.” You stuttered, your eyes locking at his hands gripping your wrists.

“That’s the least you can do, hurry up.” He said, waving his hands at you.

You rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the plates and glasses before putting your oven mitts on and taking out the pan of pasta. You scooped up a generous amount of pasta for Toji and yourself, then you grabbed your husband a beer.

“Here you go, enjoy.” You handed Toji his food before rushing back into the kitchen.

You heard him turn on the television, a sports game was being played as usual. You also heard him and Megumi talking over the game.

“Come ere!” Your husband yelled, making your heart dropped.

“Yes honey? Do you want another beer?” You suggested, he looked upset,

“Gumi said you were crying, is that right?” He questioned, taking a swig of his beer. his eyes glued to the game.

“No, maybe he had a bad dream-”

“Are you calling my son a fucking liar, Y/N? Look at you, you look a mess. Your eyes are red, you keep sniffing.”

“I’m just a little sick, I promise. Nothings wrong.” You promised, eyeing the infant in disbelief. This wasn’t the first time he snitched to his dad, and you couldn’t blame him. He was trained to do so, when Toji couldn’t watch you he had his son do it.

Toji stared at you for a few seconds before placing his food and beer on the coffee table. He stood up to his full height, towering over you. His hand caressed your face before gripping it into his palm.

“You either tell me, or i’ll beat it out of you.” He whispered calmly, pulling your hair behind your ear. You winced at the thought of another beat down from your husband, you gulped roughly before speaking.

“I’m pregnant, Toji.” You whispered in shame, barely being able to hear your own voice. The tears you were holding back fell simultaneously.

Toji stood in silence for a few seconds, you were unable to read his face due to you hanging your head down. A few moments later you felt his hands reach out to your stomach, feeling your slight protruding bump.

“Another baby, what’s the issue? You already love Megumi, he needs a sibling anyways.” Of course he wouldn’t understand you. When you first found out you we’re pregnant with Megumi you locked yourself in the bathroom for days, scared to face your reality.

It was happening all over again, you were already exhausted from dealing with Megumi. Chasing him all over the house, dealing with his horrible tantrums. All while his father sat and watched.

A newborn and a 2 year old would kill you, you couldn’t even bring yourself to imagine it.

“We’re not ready Toji, Megumi is already a handful. We agreed to wait until he was a little older.” You said, trying to be careful with your words so you wouldn’t upset the large man.

You watched as his face contorted into confusion, like he was offended by your words. He chuckled before speaking.

“You weren’t saying that when you were taking my cock? Hm? Were you? Do you think I’d let you get rid of my seed, are you that stupid? You’re my wife, this is your duty.” He scowled, deepening his grip on your face.

You surprisingly mustered up the courage to defend yourself, the last time you did it was bad. But you couldn’t take it anymore, you were done.

“FUCK YOU TOJI! I fucking hate you okay?! Is that better? I hate playing fucking housewife for you, I hate being a mother. You make my life fucking miserable, Is that what you wanna hear? You forced this onto me, so i’m sorry if i’m not enthusiastic about you ruining my life for the 3rd fucking time.” You screamed, shocking toji. his eyes raised in surprise as he stared at you, Megumi whined in annoyance from the screaming.

Toji released you before chuckling to himself. He was obviously in disbelief, you dared to talk back to him?

You came back down from your anger, cowering in fear. You already knew he wouldn’t take this lightly.

“Go to the room, Y/N.”

You almost ran up the stairs, relieved to be away from him.

I HAVE A (kinda) stepdad!König+DBF!Horangi

so it was a while ago but I reealllyyyy liked the one u did where reader’s sort of hooking up w/ soap and ghost on the side?? If u remember that

I was wondering if you could do a story where they’re sort of just hooking up occasionally (as often as reader can get away) but clearly both the boy like them and want to further it but she’s worried about König and Horangi finding out.

pretty much they notice her exhibiting really weird behaviors in and out of bed towards them?? She’ll freak out if they approach her a specific way (not knowing König and Horangi take advantage of her that way) or sort of doesn’t rly care about her own pleasure cuz she’s sacrificing it for theirs…just sort of stuff that makes Soap and Ghost go “uhhh 🧍🧍‍♂️that’s kinda weird innit” (they’re presenting traits of being groomed/manipulated/raped/etc)

anyways somehow Soap and Ghost find out ab what’s going on at home and….yeah they’re not happy 😬😬

Thank you for your consideration!!!

— 🌘 !

Cw: DARKFIC, STEPCEST, DUB-CON/NON-CON, implied smut, abuse, implied kidnapping, possessive behaviour, implied one night stand, implied crush, kinda poly, tell if I missed any.

They weren’t saints. If anything, they were the farthest thing possible from good-natured men, with kind hearts and sound morals. Ghost and Soap were sick men, soaked in bloodshed and tragedy, gunpowder and tears, they weren’t good men, they were simply men doing another’s dirty work to keep the world safer. They’d seen their fair share of filth on this earth, the most depraved and savage monsters that found pleasure in plundering and killing, covert crimes done under the nose of most civilians, and hushed exchanges for prizes. They, themselves, have committed unforgettable and unforgivable acts, torture, murders, arson, and so, so much regrettable things that would forever scar their victims.

But this- your situation was gut-wrenching, in a way that twisted their guts and made their throats tight, deathly silent in the brewing rage. From Simon, who had an abusive up-bringing and torturous life, morals and ethics twisted beyond normalcy and comprehension; to Johnny, who’s busybody life turned darker and darker with every life he’s taken, bodies piling over bodies, a permanent reminder that he wasn’t the same bright-eyed and goodwilling saint he was when he first enlisted. 

They were mad: Simon enraptured in wrath, burning hotter than hell’s fire, whose rage rivaled one of God; and Johnny bubbled with rage, running through his veins like rivers of magma, scorching everything on his path to ash and rock. They were enraged to see the way you were used and forced into a new purpose by older men —much, much older men that they knew. Whereas Simon seethed silently, Johnny screeched loudly, words stumbling in a crazed frenzy.

It just- it simply wasn’t a good-natured frenzy. Ghost and Soap were not good men. It stemmed from jealousy and emotional possession. The many dates that you’d suddenly canceled, calling in a rain check that they had listened, were because you’d been fucked numb, legs too weak to walk or support you, tied to your bed or filled with another man’s cum. How rarely they met you outside of simple bar nights with your girlfriends before you’d hookup with them for the night until you had to leave. Or your reoccurring bruises, hidden under the clear lie of being clumsy, a white lie, truly, but a lie nonetheless and they hated liars. 

And the worse thing, the one that hits the most, was that you were being fucked, and abused, and taken advantage of by men they constantly butted heads with. Once enemies, always enemies. They didn’t forgive or forget in their business, and their rivalry would continue until one or the other had died. Ghost would plan, scheme your taking and Soap would take care of you, a man much softer than his rough hide. Soap would gently introduce you into your new life, and if it does work, then Ghost would have to step in, eyes dark and heart frozen over. 

You’d eventually like living with them. At least you liked them.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

friends with benefits simon turns into friends with drawbacks in weeks when he becomes attached and you should've known better than to lust after the big man who didn't even remove his mask all the way to eat you out the first time yall had sex but it's too late anyway because now the consequence is calling your phone in the dead of night so you can let him in. (on a weekday! like sir respectfully go to hell)

he's dropping you off and picking you up from work daily.

he sends you a text asking you if you need any help at the grocery store. (how does he know???)

the one time you tried to end things because of a potential boyfriend/girlfriend coming along, they ghost (haha) you within a day and simon somehow knows about it.

mumbles "they're not good enough f'r ya anyway, pet," before hooking your legs over his shoulders and making you forget everything but his name.

you never told him about them.

when he used to come over and leave you a sloppy, sticky mess has now become him staying the night, you waking to the rich smell of coffee in the morning. it's you getting up to brush your teeth and seeing his toothbrush next to yours. it's sometimes seeing the toilet lid up (you tried to chew him out over it but ended up with his tongue in your mouth and his hand down your bottoms)

and now he's dragging you to some seedy joint to meet up with his work buddies, thick arm snug around your waist, finger hooked into a belt loop. (and if they all look at you like a hungry man does steak well....)

Simon Riley is the type to smoke while eating you out. 🚬

“Attagirl, deep breaths f’me.”

The thick and noticeable smell of tobacco and liquor fills your nostrils, your head thrown back at the addictive sensation between your supple thighs. Simon nips your skin with his sharp canines, his head between your thighs, breathing deep into your pussy before rolling his warm, wet tongue over your slick folds. His boner aches inside of the tight confines of his boxers, leaking pre-cum while he devours your soaking, drooling cunt.

He takes long drags from the cigarette held between his two thick, calloused fingers. Your whines mewls cause his dick to harden and twitch, the sound of your pleasure driving him utterly insane. Your sweet, familiar, and comforting taste lingers on his lips, mixed with the taste of alcohol when he presses his lips against yours, scoffing at your desperation and greediness. Simon can't get enough of your lazy, desperate reaction - how drunk you are off of the pleasure and ecstasy. You lay there on his leather couch, in Simon's apartment, grinding back and forth against his face needily.

”There we go, princess. Rock those beautiful hips- Good girl.” The gravelly and hoarse sound of Simon's voice leaves your thighs trembling and shaking, your orgasm inching closer with each stroke he makes with his tongue. Simon can feel as his boxers become sticky and damp with his white fluids as he continues, too addicted to your taste to stop himself. He rubs his hard bulge against the couch, his nose pressed into your pussy while he dips his tongue into your slit, appreciating your sweet, delicious cum on his tongue.

Fuck, Simon could spend the rest of his life between your thighs, smoking a cigarette, and taking proper care of his beautiful girl.