Pepsi cola gmfo!!!!!😮💨😭🫨 my brain is fried i love pleasure dom!simon SO much im gonna manifest this man into my life😫 that being said, I for one would love to see what happened that one time reader tried to sneak up on him and got a firsthand demonstration on what would’ve happened to her if she had been an intruder 👀🍿
oh my god girl noooo 😭 no i couldn’t POSSIBLY wri-
A dreaded late night at work was suddenly flipped into a whirlwind of excitement: no overtime! Your boss said it could wait until the next week, and you could realistically schedule in the work next Wednesday, so you brimmed with happiness. You would gladly stress and fret at work next week just to savor today.
You pulled into your driveway, a burst of energy coursing through you as you were bubbling to see your fiancé. You have frequently been coming home exhausted and much later in the evening, so coming home at the proper time? It was one of the most thrilling moments of your adult life, but coming home on time to your fiancé? Electrifying.
With an urge to surprise him, you kept your eye on the front door as you turned off your car, slinking like a weasel to the porch. You licked your bottom lip before biting it to keep back your giggles. Pulling your keys from your purse, you slowly but firmly slid the key into the door, gingerly twisting it. You exhaled, steadying yourself. Hand on the handle, you turned cautiously, anxiety shooting through your hands.
You opened the door, peeking inside before tiptoeing in, gently shutting and locking behind you. To minimize sound, you were able to slide off your work shoes. You looked down the dark hallway, noting that Simon didn’t hear you, or, at least, he wasn’t standing there waiting. You were tentative, however, with the way you hesitantly moved down the hall, gliding with your pantyhose on.
Peeking, eyes just past the doorway to the living room, you spied on Simon. He sat on the couch on the far end, his back to you with something nonsensical on the television. You narrowed your eyes as you quietly shuffled your feet to the couch, your arms creeping up while your heart pounded incredibly loud in your ears. You were just upon him, feeling as if you just trumped him in stealth - and it almost caused you to laugh.
Your hands, so gentle and featherlight, went to his shoulders. You wanted to quickly then wrap your arms around his chest, as a cute little surprise! But what you failed to realize, which you continue to do, is that your fiancé, a Lieutenant with some crazy special operations unit, couldn’t be surprised.
It was probably because he heard your car in the driveway, the front door unlocking, opening, closing, and relocking, and your feet shuffling on the floor with your breath staggering from excitement and giggles.
Faster than a snake striking its prey, Simon’s hand grasped at your arm, his other hand swooping behind to grab at your back, and with a strong, inhuman pull, flipped you over the couch and onto your back. A yell left your mouth as you flew through the air and landed with a huff. Pinning your hands to your sides, Simon spun around on the couch to straddle you.
“You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” His tone, something you rarely heard, was a threat, but it was still oozing lust.
You were breathless for a moment, his hardened cock tenting his sweatpants, facing you proudly. You looked at it momentarily, jaw slacking and mouth salivating before blinking your gaze back up to him, half-lidded. “Yes,” you sighed eagerly, your heat spreading through your cunt, a wetness rubbing against your panties.
He smirked, lowering the band of his sweatpants and underwear, his gorgeous, thick cock springing free. Your breath stopped for a second, watching the tip bob up and down in your face before standing erect with a slight droop from the heaviness. Oh, fuck, you were so excited to be home.
Simon began rubbing his cock, pre cum beading at the head. He was horny for a while, thinking about you coming home, but reaching peak arousal when he realized you were trying to stealthily surprise him. Cute. So cute that he wanted to fuck that smirk right off of your face.
You squeezed and rocked your hips, rubbing your thighs as you tried to find some semblance of pleasure as Simon was in his. He wouldn’t give. You looked up at him. “Really?” You asked in a sad voice, feeling teased.
“Aww, hah, you think a naughty little thing like you gets to cum?” A rhetorical question. Your mouth went dry and you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.
Simon shifted up your chest, his groin just about to press your face, his heat emanating onto you. You moaned softly, excitedly, a smile filled with anticipation on your face. His hand still on his cock, he lightly tapped your cheek with his firm erection. You giggled, closing your eyes for a moment before looking back up at him.
“Open.” His tone was curt, demanding.
You obeyed. “Yes, sir.” Your voice rang, hiding a smirk while his hand tensed briefly at your response. Your jaw hung down, tongue out, your hot mouth beckoning him to enter.
His tip pressed onto your tongue and into your mouth, and you immediately began to bob your head onto his cock. Simon sighed, his hand moving to your hair, pulling it out of the way. You gagged, tears biting at your eyes.
“You don’t have to go that hard, baby,” he reassured in a soft voice.
You popped your mouth off of his cock. “But I thought I was a bad girl?” You asked with a pout.
He smirked, falling back into his role. “Yeah - and a fuckin’ slutty little thief, too.” He added, pushing his cock into your mouth, allowing the gags and tears.
Simon struggled with staying in character it seemed, too high strung to want to continue if there was a semblance of him hurting you. What he was going to learn was that his dominance made you painfully horny, a pool laying in your panties.
He popped his cock from your mouth, sighing at seeing you swollen red lips, saliva dripping and drooling from your mouth, mascara smeared. Your eyes were half-lidded, visibly glazed as you looked at him with neediness.
“Jesus fuck, Y/N.” He sighed before sliding back down your body, your hands freeing.
Simon grabbed your blouse and ripped it, buttons flying across the living room as a shrill gasp involuntarily came from you from the shock. You glared at him. “Simon, that was hundreds-“
“I’ll buy you another one.” His tone was rushed as his hands snaked behind your back and undid your bra, pulling everything off from the top of your body. The man was desperate.
His hands groped deeply at your breasts, squeezing your nipples firmly, and you yelped at the movement. Simon got off of you briefly, and before you could react, he flipped you over on the couch so you were lying on your stomach. He straddled your thighs, pushing up your skirt to reveal your ass.
He angled your hips up, and, startling you, ripped your pantyhose in half to reveal your black thong. You moaned at his aggression, his hands pulling your panties down and spreading your ass. He inhaled as you whimpered, your cunt, glistening and wet, felt the cool air hit, causing a shiver to ripple up your back.
Simon’s fingers rubbed in between your folds, momentarily circling your clit before submerging them inside your needy hole. You cried out as he gave a few experimental thrusts. “You this fuckin’ wet, huh?” He chuckled, “Needy little slut.”
He pulled his fingers out, another cry leaving you as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. You whined, wiggling your hips against him, trying to usher him to plunge into you. A harsh slap stung your ass, causing you to yelp. “Simon!” You gasped, looking back at him.
His normally warm brown eyes seemed almost pitch black with desire, face serious. He squeezed your ass almost painfully, causing you to whimper. Before you could open your mouth again, he pushed his cock in, sheathing completely in one thrust.
A cry left you as he pulled back, and began fucking you with a fierce speed, your cunt barely stretched and ready. You let out a series of sharp moans, his cock angled and hitting that spot inside your pussy just right. “O-o-oh my g-god,” you gasped, beginning to lose your breath as the pleasure was building incredibly fast.
“You’re so cute- ah, thinkin’ you can sneak up on me. Like I didn’t hear you the moment you pulled in.” His hips snapped against your ass, your eyes rolling back as his cock drilled so hard into you, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot over and over.
“S-Si-Si-Simon-,” you squeaked with every thrust, struggling to say his name in one breath, the pleasure drowning you and pulling you down into dark depths.
He slammed into you with such drive and force that you couldn’t seem to even let out a moan, as well as barely breathe. It was teetering so dangerously close where you would be begging him to finish. Your body was flushed, covered with a film of a sweat, and your hair stuck to your face and neck.
You felt your orgasm heating up so heavy that when it started to approach, it was rushing in like a bullet train. Your nails dug at the fabric of the couch as you buried your face in.
“Oh, no, no,” Simon growled, his hand gripping into your hair and pulling your face up and to the side to make you look at him, “you’re gonna look at me while I make you cum.” He demanded, your eyes half-lidded. You barely processed what he said, because your cunt constricted and the raging impact of your orgasm stalled the breath in your throat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled, “c’mon, baby.”
You fought the need for your eyes to roll back, straining to keep your gaze on him as you felt like your soul was imploding. “F-fuck, Simon!” You finally cried out, your moans pouring from you.
“Thaaat’s it, hah, that’s a good fuckin’ girl.” His voice was a harsh purr in your ear as he continued to fuck you through your insanity.
Simon briefly pulled out of you, a groan of disappointment ripped from you at the sudden absence of being filled. He flipped you over onto your back, your legs resting on his thighs and hands finding their way to his back.
Simon’s cock sunk into you, pushing through your still clamped walls, causing you to cry out, nails beginning to dig into the flesh on his back. He let out a very rare moan, hips slapping loudly against yours. “Ah, I wanna see your pretty face when I cum, Y/N.”
He moved your hair away from your face, watching you pant sharply as he put his thumb in your mouth. He pressed his thumb down onto your tongue, his index finger hooked and holding your chin. Simon held your mouth open, your gasps and moans falling out of you.
His hips began to lose a rhythm and his cock was hitting you harder. His hand fell from your mouth to grip the couch tightly, as if holding on. You cried out at his out of sync pace, nails pulling across his back at how overwhelmingly relentless he was, and you were close to tapping out. “Hah, ah, f-fuck, Y/N.” His voice was strained, struggling, just before he let out a harsh groan.
Simon’s hips crashed into yours once more, his cock pressed tightly against your cervix. You felt his cum pushing and filling you, causing you to shiver and let out a small whimper. He panted heavily above you, his cock still twitching inside your hole, making sure every last drop was nestled deep in your cunt.
And there he kneeled above you, dominant, protective. Simon loosened his grip from the couch, pushing hair away from your face. Half of his face was illuminated from the television, and he took a moment to watch you, flushed, sweaty, hot. He smiled softly, leaning in and giving you a deep kiss as he slid his softening cock out. You sighed into the kiss as he pulled away, his cum immediately beginning to bead out of your hole. He popped his sweatpants and underwear band up back over his hips. He leaned on his heel, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs.
“So all I learned tonight is to just break in.” You stated, causing him to chuckle, a hand rubbing your leg lightly. “Alternatively,” you started, letting the thought simmer aloud, “you could break in.”
He smirked and cocked his head. “And what’re you gonna do to stop me, love?”
synopsis: Simon is on his break, but that doesn’t mean you stop working. After a full two weeks of mandatory overtime to complete a project, you were exhausted, absolutely beat. Simon’s been home for a few weeks and was starting to feel guilty. Watching you come home so tired you pass out on the couch? It was frustrating seeing you so drained. Well… it’s Friday night, and you’re sooo exhausted, love - why don’t you lie down and let Simon help you relax?
content: afab, porn w a plot, smut (GET YA PUSSY ATE!!!, fingering, overstim), not fluff?per se but he loves u.
word count: ~3.6k I think idk
notes: Title named after Cola by Lana Del Rey hayyyy iykyk
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Your keys felt so heavy in your hand as you attempted to fish them out of your deep, cluttered purse. They were tangled on something, and with an infuriated grunt, you yanked terribly hard, jerking them violently out of the thralls of your corded headphones. You really needed to switch to wireless. You fumbled them momentarily in your hand, trying to find your house key as the small porch light was your only guide, the sky dark like navy ink. “Fuck,” you mumbled, finally finding the key and opening the front door.
Soft, warm lights lit up the entryway, beckoning you to enter the fortress of comfort, an escape from the throes of responsibilities and existing. A groan left your lips as you closed the heavy door and locked it. The house smelled delicious like a home cooked meal, reminding you that Simon saved you dinner for when you came home. Your stomach growled, eager. “I’m home.” Your voice was loud and filled with fatigue as you called out to your fiancé, always making sure to signal that it was you and not someone breaking in.
You’ll never forget when you tried to surprise him one time. When you got into the living room, presumably as quiet as the dead, he had grabbed you and flipped you onto the couch. “You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” You said yes, and later told him you’ll need to break in more often as he was putting his shirt back on, his back covered with red hot stripes from your fresh manicure.
You walked down the hallway, kicking off your high heels, shuffling towards the living room, your pantyhose helping you glide across the hardwood floors as lifting your feet felt nigh impossible. Simon, ever attentive, met you in the hallway before you could even get into the living room. “Ah, love, you must be exhausted.” His tone was soft, calming, and understanding. The energy that poured from you was prickly and sharp at best, cannibalistic at worst, because while he wanted to generously touch your arm, he was worried for his.
Your purse dropped unceremoniously from your shoulder and onto the floor as you trudged over to the couch. “This week has been terrible,” you grumbled as you plopped chest first onto the cushions, “so much overtime to get a project done for the shareholders. As if it’s my fault that budgets were cut.” Your voice was muffled in the fabric.
The couch sunk by your feet as you felt Simon’s hand gingerly begin to rub your toes, arches, and heels. His thumbs gently but firmly pressing into the swollen, tired flesh of your foot elicited a moan of relief from you. “C’mon, Y/N, why don’t you go wash up? I have your dinner in the oven - I’ll get it started. Let’s go.” His voice was still delicate, supportive.
Simon ushered you up and you sighed, giving a small nod in agreement.
You went into the bathroom and stripped off your clothes. You knew what you were getting into when you were promoted to senior marketing manager, but recently you wished you had better foresight. You turned on the shower, hoping that the hotter the water, the more likely it will boil and burn off any trace of this week happening. As you washed your hair and body, you thanked whatever god allowed for Hell Week to be over. When you felt you were thoroughly cleansed from files, papers, and way too many sticky notes, you ended your shower, wanting to forget the sound of telephones ringing and keyboards clacking.
With a towel wrapped around your body and hair, you stepped out of the bathroom and sighed, the hot, fragrant steam spilling over into the cool bedroom, licking the air. You took the towel off of your head, gently squeezing water out of your hair as you walked to the dresser. You opened your underwear drawer with your hand, humming at your options.
“Feelin’ better?” Simon’s voice purred from the doorway. You looked over and saw him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed - and they briefly rippled with a flex, as if he were holding back. You did a double take, glancing from his feet up at his face. His eyes were half-lidded and a small half smirk sat on his lips. You knew that look. He was ravenous.
“Yeah. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” You asked before attempting to divert your attention back to the drawer.
“Like what?” He uncrossed his arms, strolling over to you, towering high above. You looked up at Simon’s face.
“Like that!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he buried his face against your neck, sniffing your smooth skin, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash so deep, letting it etch in his memory like carving stone.
He molded his body against yours, hands gripping deeply at your waist, fingers pressed into the plush towel. Your hands reached to wrap around his neck. His warm lips began to leave deep, hot trails against your skin, causing you to sigh in satisfaction. Simon kept your bodies tight together, lips trailing up to your ear. He nibbled at your earlobe, sucking gently at the flesh before biting at the shell, creating a surge of pleasure to pool in your core. You whimpered, hips bucking against his jeans. Your chest heaved in shallow sighs while he continued teasing you, breathing hot puffs against your ear, letting goose bumps sweep across your skin.
“Let me take care of you.” His voice was a hot whisper, and what he gave to you was not a suggestion, but a demand.
“Mmm, you don’t have to baby,” you purred softly, a tame deferment, placidly defying him.
You tested the waters and he called your bluff. He squeezed at your waist, a little firmer than you thought he would. His voice was a low growl, “Take off your towel and lie on the bed.”
Your body began to hum on the same frequency as his, his jeans becoming incredibly firm against your stomach. Simon pulled away, his half-lidded eyes darkening as they swirled with an insatiable drive. Your breath hitched in your chest, your stomach flipping as your cunt twitched in need.
You paused for too long. A hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass and gripped the fat flesh. You yelped more so at the sudden action than the sting. “And what do you say?” He asked, and your arousal caused you to feel your cheeks flush hot.
Your chest heaved. “Yes, sir.” Your voice was quiet, and he smiled.
“Thas my good girl, so god damn beautiful and smart. Go on then, let me see those gorgeous tits.” He moved his hands away from your ass and waist.
Your stomach flipped again, but you obliged, loosening the towel and letting it fall to the floor. Simon took a deep inhale, exhaling sharply as he eyed your body, and right now he looked like he desperately needed to sink his cock into you, but that wasn’t really part of his plan tonight.
He inhaled one more time, blinking himself back to reality as he gave your ass pleasant tap with just enough force to get it to jiggle. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, get your arse on that bed now.” He was at the point of fully commanding you around, but you were okay with that, and you would do anything he ever asked of you. Anything for your wonderful fiancé.
“Yes, sir.” You said coyly, causing his lips to twitch back into a smirk. You felt yourself melt a little while you walked over to the bed, plopping down on the edge.
Simon walked over to you, so unbelievably tall while you were sitting down. Heat pooled down to your stomach when you glanced down at his jeans. You looked back up at him, licking your bottom lip absentmindedly. He smiled, sighing. “Not tonight, love.” He scolded lovingly.
“Later?” You asked.
He paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Later,” he agreed, letting you win - which caused you to smile mischievously.
Simon leaned down to you, grabbing you by your waist and tossing you up higher onto the bed. You yelped with a smile, giggling as you fell down on your back, bouncing softly on the down blanket. Simon’s lips came down against yours, giving you little to no time to adjust. His hands, gentle on the naked flesh of your waist, whispered ghostly touches up your sides before eventually cupping your breasts. Your moans were lost in his mouth as his fingers squeezed and rubbed at your nipples, your hands finding themselves lost in his hair. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, your cunt swollen, begging and weeping for his abuse.
He moved his lips down to your neck, kissing, sucking, and gently biting you. Simon moved a hand from your breast and used it as leverage next to your head while the other hand slid down your front, tickling your sensitive skin, roaming over your stomach and mound. His fingers dipped down between your folds, pressing into your wet heat. You let out a pathetic whimper at the contact alone, raising it into a moan as his fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit.
“Ah, yeah? You like that, Y/N?” He purred against your neck before pulling away to see your reaction. You bit your lower lip and nodded feverishly at him, eyebrows furrowed. Simon smiled, your wet hair sticking to your face, providing a cool relief to the heat that swarmed your body like a furnace.
“Ye-yeah, yes- yes, sir,” you managed to gasp out. His smile turned into a smirk as he felt your cunt twitching. As if answering your unspoken prayers, his two digits dipped and pushed into your needy hole. A gasp was ripped from you, jaw dropping slightly at the sudden filling of your cunt.
“God, already so wet - my girl has the best fucking pussy.” He gave a small thrust, causing you to moan gently and buck your hips. “Oh, the things I’d do just to have my cock buried in you,” he growled before gently pumping his fingers.
Your tits bounced as his digits softly fucked into you, fingers curling up and rocking your hips, pressing into that spot that had your eyes rolling back. Your grip left his hair and soon grasped desperately onto his back, causing him to groan while your nails dug at him. “Ha, ah, harder,” you gasped as your hips bucked against his hand.
Simon smiled. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my fingers, don’tcha baby?” He asked, your cunt twitching embarrassingly at his words.
“Yes- yes, sir, please!” You whined.
“Hold on, love,” he sighed before rocking his fingers into you at an ungodly pace.
Your voice raised pitch before becoming lost in your throat, your head thrown back and eyes gone. All that filled the room was the sounds of your juices squelching against his fast moving digits. The silence was soon cut, moans finally finding their way out of you. Your fingernails dragged frantically at his back, as if you were fighting to stay grounded. Your cunt constricted harshly around his fingers, trapping him.
Your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucked against his fingers and your thighs squeezed at his hips. Like a cool tidal wave poured over you, a chill ran down your back as your body surged with pleasure, leaving you crying out Simon’s name. He chuckled softly with a gentle voice, “Ahhh, thas my good girl, huh?” His voice was like a warm blanket of clouds, helping you down from your dizzying high. He pulled his fingers out and gave a small slap to your pussy, causing you to whine and your hips to stutter as he teased the tender flesh.
“Jesus, Simon,” you whimpered, your head still swimming in the aftershocks of pleasure.
He chuckled at your reaction while planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping at your breasts to lope a nipple into his mouth. You let out a throaty groan as his teeth pulled at the sensitive, hardened bud. Your nails that raked at his back moved back up to his hair, the pads of your fingers pressing firmly into his scalp as his locks slid and tightened betweens your digits. The sensation had him sighing against your mounds.
He released your breast from his mouth, his teeth squeezing at your nipple before fully letting go, causing you to let out a small yelp. Simon began to kiss down your chest and the expanse of your stomach. He placed deep kisses at your hips before heading towards the simmering heat of your cunt - sticky, wet, and begging. He looped his arm under your thigh, hand holding your hip to keep you in place.
Simon’s lips pressed against your swollen clit, causing you to gasp harshly. His tongue, flat and hot, slid up your folds, extracting a long moan from you, and in response he moaned. “I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he hummed against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice driving straight to your core.
You groaned, your hips grinding against him in response which caused him to chuckle against you. “O-oh God, Simon!” You cried at the overwhelming stimulation, your legs shaking at his persistence as he buried his mouth into your cunt.
Simon lapped at you hungrily like a man dehydrated, drinking at your sloppy pussy as if he’d never be able to go back down on you again. It was gluttony and pure greed. He had commented before about how he hopes his manner of passing is drowning while you straddle his face. You laughed and said maybe one day! He didn’t think your joking demeanor was appropriate, and how he meant every word with serious intent. Whenever he’s being deployed on a mission, he always assures you he won’t die, because you’re the only one that could take him out. Of course, you didn’t truly understand the depth of his conviction.
Simon’s teeth gently nibbled and helped to create a suction around your clit, his dampened fingers once again finding your hole and pushing in. You let out a loud moan, your hips driving against his face, his nose pressing onto your mound as he did everything he could to keep you two attached, connected. He moved his head to match with your movements, keeping his mouth glued flat to your pussy, and any attempt to pull yourself away from him would prove futile.
Your fiancé has a wonderfully keen gift of being a giver. He was always so incredibly selfless with you, which could get almost aggravating as he was certain on making sure that your needs were met first. This attitude carried over to the bedroom. He could give you fifty orgasms and beg to give you fifty more while never even taking his shirt off.
What he loves, besides bringing you pleasure you’ve never experienced before, is seeing you lost in passion. Watching your face twist as he stretches you with an additional finger, your eyes rolling back as he hits that sweet spot, your hips grinding as you chase after your orgasm, your back arching and legs shaking as the euphoria and bliss crash over and through you. Simon got off by simply being the source of your arousal, and he savored unraveling you thread by thread before you’re bare before him.
That’s what he loved.
Your pleasure brimmed to the top, the lip, before finally pouring over. Your hands gripped tight at his scalp, legs tightened around his head as your back arched, head thrown back. Your cunt tightened deliciously around his pumping digits, his tongue still swirling around your clit as he rode out your orgasm. “F-Fuck, Simon!” You cried, moaning loudly, still holding onto him as the high came to slow, but he didn’t stop.
He continued to pump and lap at your clit, causing you to squeal in overstimulation, legs beginning to shake as a concoction of pleasure and pain pulsed through your core with every pass of his tongue. “I can’t- ah! Simon, please!” You sobbed, begging him to stop. A harsh groan left you, your body trying to shake him away as he kept his mouth to you. It wasn’t fair - it was too much. You were starting to burnout, your body sore and barely able to keep up. Regardless of your exhaustion, another orgasm was in the horizon, slowly reaching it’s peak before ultimately falling into a frenzied bliss.
“You gonna cum again, baby?” Simon mumbled against your sex, the vibrations causing you to groan roughly as your hands moved from his head to the sheets, grasping them with a white-knuckled grip, back arched impossibly high as you tried to wriggle away. You nodded frantically at his question, your body squirming and tossing with no ability to stop or control it as he pushed you to your limits.
You never doubt that Simon can bring you another orgasm in quick succession - he’s proven that true multiple times, almost every time, especially now. Your poor clit, though, was bullied and battered, the bundle of nerves crying out in both pain and pleasure. But it was a slave to Simon. Even during the loneliest of nights, months in bed by yourself, you could never make yourself feel how he makes you feel. It was maddening, and frankly unfair, but it made the intimate times with him all the more exhilarating and mind numbing. What makes it better is that no one but Simon has been able to bring you into such a state of ecstasy.
Simon’s free hand, still wrapped around your thigh and holding onto your hip, held you so tightly in place he pinched at your skin. You were going to bruise there, you knew, but you didn’t really care. Even though it was like edged like a razor, your release was fast approaching with no stops. You panted heavily, loudly, your body involuntarily writhing as the pleasure tipped you over the scale. His tongue dragged hot and firm against your clit, his fingers still thrusting and rubbing the spongy spot inside your cunt as the muscle enclosed and clamped around him, unforgiving.
“Oh, God!” You cried loudly, tears pricking at your eyes as you used a hand to cover your face.
Your orgasm came fast and sharp. His onslaught was staggering and unrelenting, and it brought an end that was piercing, sudden. A scream was ripped from you as the pleasure came like a heavy punch, borderline painful. It was a surge of electricity that ripped through your core, shocking your nerves and forcing your body to briefly tense… but it all dissipated almost immediately. Your mind and body crashed.
Your back collapsed onto the bed and Simon’s fingers slid out of your clenching cunt, his mouth pulling away from your swollen, angry clit. A moan of relief fell out of your mouth as Simon crawled atop you, a hand pushing the hair out of your face as he planted his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply and fully. Your juices had coated his lips in abundance, and you tasted yourself as his tongue slipped into your mouth. His tongue was slick, and he made sure that you entire mouth was coated with yourself.
He pulled back, allowing you the space to sit up, delirious, face hot and wet from sweat. Simon stifled a laughter behind a tightly pursed mouth. “What.” Your tone strained with trying to demand an answer, but it was hoarse from your yelling and crying.
He shook his head, his eyes fluttering. “Your hair, love.”
Your hands shakily went to your hair, feeling it messy and sticking up at odd angles. “Ah.” You nodded, trying to run your fingers through to flatten it out.
Simon preemptively got up to the bathroom and came out with a brush, taking a seat behind you as he silently began brushing out your hair, starting at the ends. You two took the moment quietly, slowly, and embraced just being in each other’s presence. The session was hot and heavy, and having Simon nearby, gently brushing out your vicious knots, was soothing on your frazzled nerves, like aloe on a sunburn. “You feelin’ good, babe?” He asked in a quiet tone.
You hummed. “Yeah, but that last one was really intense.” You commented, eyebrows briefly furrowed as the third orgasm continued to make your body shudder. His hands suddenly wrapped deep in your hair at the base of your scalp, and with a gentle tug, he pulled your head back to look at him, causing you to gasp quickly.
“Were you able to handle it?” His brown eyes bore into you, and you gave a restrained nod, almost forgetting that his hand was keeping your head steady.
Your voice was meek and small, “Yes, sir.”
Simon smiled, kissing your forehead. “That’s my girl,” he purred, gingerly releasing your head and putting the brush on the nightstand. He gave you a kiss on the top of your head as he stood up, commenting about checking on dinner.
You noticed his cock was rock solid in his jeans, pressing and straining against the denim so tight it must’ve hurt. God, you wanted to return the favor more than you could possibly put into words. He noticed your gaze and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards so your eyes met his.
“Later, like we agreed.” His voice was low, firm, and painfully arousing. Literally. Your clit throbbed with both the need to be doted on and to also be left alone for a long, long time. “Get dressed. I’ll be in the kitchen.” With that, Simon left you to your own devices in the bedroom.
You got up out of bed, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of your beaten cunt being squeezed between your legs. You hobbled to the dresser, resuming your original task. Underwear. Grabbing a random pair, along with pajama shorts and a shirt, you found yourself comfortable and ready for the night, making sure to slide on your robe so you didn’t get chilly.
The evening progressed. You sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating your dinner while Simon sat on the couch behind you, running his fingers through your hair, lazily braiding your locks as a movie played on the television. Your lovely fiancé also made sure you were planted on the softest, fluffiest pillow he could find. When you were finished, he made you sit on the couch while he cleaned up, coming back just to delicately massage your feet. It was tender, romantic, thoughtful. Simon wasn’t a very… physically affectionate partner, so these moments when he just wanted to be with you, to touch you, well, you really tried to get as much as you could.
When he was finished, his hands slid up your smooth calves towards your thighs, beckoning you to cuddle closer - to which you did. You hopped across the couch where the back of your legs were draped over his thighs, nestling your body in close to his, letting him wrap his large arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Oh, you couldn’t even put into words how peaceful being wrapped up in his arms made you feel. Warm, secure, safe. His other hand sat on your thigh, his veins and tendons prominent, titillating, twisting around his forearms, making the black ink of his tattoo dance. What was even hotter was seeing these veins and tendons flex and and tighten as his hands gripped the sheets or headboard as he fucked you to nirvana, until nothing but prayers and begging for God spilled and tumbled from your mouth in an indistinguishable slur.
“Why so nice tonight?” You asked him in a quiet voice, looking up at him while resting your head against his chest.
Without hesitation, he looked down at you. “Do I need a reason?” Your stomach fluttered, heat spreading to your face. You shook your head. “You’ve been stressed and working late this week. Least I could do,” he explained regardless and shrugged, rubbing the fresh stubble on his jaw.
Simon’s been back for a month, and you’ve been so busy you feel like you’ve barely seen him. He gets up extremely early to see you before work, make you breakfast and coffee, and prepare your lunch. All day he makes sure the house is clean and chores are done, opting to even overhaul the landscaping in the front yard - something you’ve been too busy to do. At night, he always waits for you to come home, dinner ready if you haven’t eaten. He makes sure you’re showered and taken care of before starting the whole routine again in the morning. You didn’t necessarily feel less than or that you’re lacking in the relationship, but it was infuriating not being able to take care of your fiancé while he has worked tirelessly to keep the world from blowing up.
But that wasn’t wholly true, was it? Sure, you felt that way, having openly admitted your insecurities to him, but Simon has always been genuine and adamant in letting you know that you’re doing so much more when you don’t have to. While he loves that you’re on your corporate grind, he’s made it clear that if you told him you never wanted to lift your hand again, you wouldn’t. Of course, with weeks, and honestly, months like these, you get closer and closer to considering to take him up on his offer. Then you could be that sweet, doting housewife, eager for her husband to come home from war.
“So,” you started, grabbing his attention and warm gaze, “is it later yet?”
Currently thinking about John bringing the 141 boys home to meet his missus <3
He originally only invited Simon. The most recent mission was tough and well… he didn’t want the lad to go home alone…
But then Soap found out and begged to come along who also roped in Gaz. They knew John was married but he never revealed any information about you. Not even your name. Whenever Soap would pester John about your name, John would respond with, “Mrs. Price.” Which always made Simon chuckle.
You didn’t even know he was bringing them home with him. It was a pleasant surprise when he came home with the 3 lads in tow.
However, what was even more surprising, was how different John was when he was on leave. When he was with you. Watching John walk into the beautiful secluded home in Hertfordshire, dropping his bags and wrapping you up in a hug that cures all his ails was… cathartic to say the least.
Watching how you both light up when you see each other, soft kisses and mumbles exchanged as you tell John how happy you are that he’s home in one peace. The house is filled with a wonderful aroma that makes each man drool.
You peek your head around to see the rest of Task Force 141 standing there awkwardly. John gives you a sheepish smile, worried you might not be okay with them all being here but his smile warms up when he sees you excitedly run over to introduce yourself.
During their stay, they witnessed multiple things which reminded them that their Captain has his own life away from Task Force 141 and things that remind them that their Captain has a warm heart reserved only for you…
On the first night, Soap realises he left his toothbrush and toothpaste on base and wandered through the house to find either you or John after everyone had retired to bed. You had told them all that if they need a single thing, not to hesitate to find you and ask…
Eventually, he finds the master bedroom, door already slightly cracked open. He peeks in and witnesses a tender moment between you and John.
His Captain, who he’d seen kill people with his bare hands, was sat on the edge of your shared bed with you standing between his legs. Your gentle hands tracing over John’s bare chest, sniffling as you rest your forehead against his.
You cup his face in both hands, “missed you so much, John…”
His hands squeeze your hips before travelling up your sides to pull you closer, “I’m right here, love. Told you I’d come back. Always will…” he mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He brushes a stray tear away from your cheek.
Soap witnesses the tender exchange between the two lovers with a warm feeling in his chest. He decides he can go one night without brushing his teeth. God forbid he robs his Captain of this moment.
A few days later, Simon goes outside for a smoke, admiring the beautiful garden that you take so much pride in maintaining. He notices you out there, picking some fresh strawberries from the greenhouse.
John appears a few moments later, carrying two heavy bags of compost on his shoulders. He places them down and steals a strawberry from your basket, making you smack his shoulder playfully.
“John, those are for dessert tonight.” You scold. Simon watches as Price leans down to whisper something in your ear with a sly smirk on his face. Clearly something naughty judging from the way you blush and squeal when he kisses your neck afterwards.
John picks up another strawberry and places it in your mouth, pecking your lips afterwards. Simon can’t help the little twitch of a smile that appears under his mask when he watches you both spend the next 10 minutes feeding each other strawberries until the basket is empty, the two of you smiling and giggling like children who got into the sweet cupboard.
You made apple crumble for dessert that night instead and Simon didn’t miss the way John smiled when you made up an excuse about the strawberries not being ready to pick yet.
One morning, Gaz woke up early and went for a run. He expected to be the only one awake when he got back but to his surprise, he comes back to soft music coming from the record player in the living room.
You and John don’t notice Gaz but he can see the two of you in the kitchen. Bowls and ingredients scattered all across the counters. John is leaning against the island, whisking a bowl that you handed him whilst you place some homemade croissants into the oven.
“You don’t have to keep cooking them 5 star buffets every day, honey…” John sighs, “they’d be happy with a bowl of cereal and some toast.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be happy with it, John.” You hum, “I dread to think what they feed you boys when you’re away.”
John smiles to himself, placing his hand on the small of your back and grabbing the plates, that you were struggling to reach, for you.
You clearly take great pride in being a homemaker and host, Gaz thinks. He can tell by the way you rush around the kitchen, mumbling to yourself.
“Love…” John says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you against him when you rush past him to grab something from the fridge. “Breathe…”
You smile at him as he holds you against him, swaying you both to the rhythm of the R.E.M album that was playing.
“I just want to make a good first impression on them, Honey…” you sigh.
John places a kiss to your nose, “They love you, Sweetheart.”
“How do you know?” You reply, frowning at even the mere thought of John’s team not liking you.
“Because I love you…” John smiles, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
Simon, Gaz, and Soap may not always see eye to eye. They have their little squabbles and get on each other’s nerves despite how much they love each other.
But if there was one thing the trio could agree on, it was nice to know that the man who always took care of them… had someone looking after him too.
Keegan Russ is a provider and you’re lying to yourself if you even think otherwise 👏 if he could make it to where you didn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of your life, he 100% would. That being said, I hope you love to be on the receiving end of oral! I genuinely believe this man will deep dive right on in there, and would stay there until you’re shaking, crying, and begging him to stop (to which he probably won’t).
Keegan Russ can be chatty when it’s just you two, and especially - you know where this is going - in bed. He loves praising you, but in such a gentle way (he also praises you day-to-day but this is nsfw hehe). If you get all shy, he will eat it tf up. imagine hearing these in his deep, gravelly, purr of a voice: “you’re so perfect and I’m so lucky you’re mine” “fuck, you look so beautiful riding my cock like that” “you wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you?” “how could I say no when you asked so nicely?” “ahh, that’s my girl.” “I love how your pretty little mouth feels.” I could literally write Keegan talking for like 6947950 years mmkay
Keegan Russ loves it when you initiate and/or take charge, even if he ends up doing the work. Ride him, sit on his face, swipe his nose like a credit card, suck his cock, for the love of god anything. Even though he absolutely loves performing acts of service, the moment you hop into action? Weak! This man is weak! just tell him it’s because he’s been so amazing, that you just wanna do this for him if that’s alright 🥺 you missed him sm and you just wanna make your baby feel good 🥺 is slobbering on his cock too much to ask for 🥺 if you’re doing this, you got him whipped
Keegan Russ might wear the mask in bed upon asking. I don’t think he has an issue with anonymity and his identity. I would honestly wait for some time to pass before asking. I like to imagine he’s kind of… confused at first? He puts it on (even does the face paint), and you’re barking and purring. He’s just like “why do they like this?” but when he realizes JUST how bad you want him? GOD!!! It’s basically just roleplaying and he eats that shit up, mama - he gets into it and it’s like… distant, anonymous, and it feels dirty: “show me how much you want me.” “with your mouth, just like that. good.” “that’s Sergeant/sir to you.” “that’s right, on your knees.” “oooh, look at you.” “did I say you could cum?” “louder.”
Keegan Russ has the sexiest morning voice in the world. The way he wakes up (shirtless, he’s usually shirtless), sighs, and rolls over to you. You know that half-spoon, half-on top moment? Yeah, THAT. you’re on your side and he’s kind of on top and pressed against you, kissing you on the neck as you feel his hands glide up the side of your thigh, his touch is so warm and gentle. “mornin’, sweetheart.” AAUUUGGggghhhhh and then you feel his morning wood pressed so hard against your ass- ok I can’t do this (not me scrambling to write morning sex with my husband keegs)
Keegan Russ is not a very rough or hardcore lover. Please don’t expect him to tie you up or do some crazy things cuz he probably won’t!! The most you’ll get with being “kinky” is him wearing the mask and praising you (kinda considered bdsm???), which, if you need anything more from him… can’t help ya there champ - besides, is he not enough??!?!? 🥺 don’t break his heart or i swear
Keegan Russ… I see him liking the spooning position a lot, or a variation where he fucks you from behind and cowgirl just please ride him. There’s something he finds soooooo erotic about leaning over your shoulder, saying things naughty things in your ear ahhh he knoooooows what his voice does to you, so he takes advantage of it anytime he can get! there was that time you two were making lunch on a weekend and he just bent you over the counter and it was just… “you’re so wet already - you been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” “you’re such a pleasure to use” “I’m so proud of you for taking my cock so well” “relax, baby, just hold on” “that’s it, just like that, ah, fuck” “you want me to make you cum again?” “there’s that happy little sigh”
Keegan Russ doesn’t put you in extreme sexual situations where you require extensive aftercare (or any if you’re down tbh), but he still makes sure your needs are taken care of!! wanna shower together? have a snack? oh! you’re out of water, he’ll grab you a glass! need him to snuggle you for a little bit? of course, he wouldn’t want to do anything else! Being with you and making sure you’re happy and taken care of???? His #1 priority 🙌
(affirming myself in the mirror) if that fictional man was real he would fuck you. He would fuck you. You're his exact type. If he saw you he'd get a boner instantly. He would fuck you he would fu
synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?
content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2
word count: 3.7k
notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!
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Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.
Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.
Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.
It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.
Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.
But I digress.
Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.
Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.
You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.
That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.
Good girl.
You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.
The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.
Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.
You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.
“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.
He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.
It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.
Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.
You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.
“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.
“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.
He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.
His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.
Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.
But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.
“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.
With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.
A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.
“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”
You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.
A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.
Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.
Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.
Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.
That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.
Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.
“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump. 
Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.
“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.
You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”
“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”
You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.
“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.
“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.
“My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.
He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.
“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.
Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.
He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.
The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.
Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.
You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.
He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.
He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.
He didn’t deserve you.
Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.
You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”
He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.
You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.
“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”
Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.
You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.
You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.
You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.
Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.
Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.
Simon Riley fucks intensely and passionately. He doesn’t grab your hair, or spit on your face, or cause you physical pain - my man’s has openly admitted to dealing with violent thoughts/dreams against women and wanting to be better. He might get rough if he’s stressed or angry, but he won’t be, like, throat fucking you for example. Sorry. I just can’t see it. He can be fast, but I don’t think he’s gonna be hardcore or degrading. I think if he gets the mask on, he miiiight be a little more… forthcoming.
Simon Riley finds sex to be the highest level of trust, love, and vulnerability. Don’t expect him to be a quick or easy lay. If he wants you intimately, this is the biggest honor you would ever receive from him. Maybe before he was tortured he would’ve been quicker to engage, but the Simon we know now? Yeah, you gotta work.
Simon Riley… ohhhhh he’s always asking you: “is that alright, love?” “that feel good?” “ahhhh, yeah, you’re a good girl, aren’tcha?” If you’re not feeling it, he’s not feeling it. he wants to make sure you’re into it 100%. the moment you grunt, wince, or groan in pain, he’s stopping to check up on his lovie. he just radiates Soft Dom energy to me (and I want him so bad). Simon loves to see you get all flustered, too. When you beg for him (and you’re a good girl) he will give you anything and everything you want.
Simon Riley being a Soft Dom… mmm, delicious. I love to imagine him praising and worshipping: “ahh fuck, i’ve missed my girl’s pussy” “so proud of you, taking my cock so well” “you want to be a good girl for me, don’tcha?” “you’re so beautiful when you struggle to fit me” if you’re engaged with him romantically, you’re his everything - man’s invested his entire soul and well-being into you. With that being said, throw him some praise, too! He’ll melt and become putty in your hands; he’ll do anything for you. Tell him how you were made for his cock, that nobody else makes you feel like he does, how you’re sooo good - but only for him. He’s definitely possessive of you - not in a red flag kind of way, but when you talk about how you’re his and only his… whew.
Simon Riley wants to see your face when you two are having sex. Anything missionary, missionary adjacent, cowgirl, it doesn’t matter, just let this man look at you! He doesn’t crave it, he needs it. Eye contact is so intimate, and if you’re shy and can’t maintain it? Ohhh, he’s gonna have fun. “eyes here, love” “don’t cover your face/close your eyes - i want to watch you cum” “you were just begging for my cock, don’t get all shy now” “be a good girl and look at me” he’s either coming inside or on your tummy/chest. preferably? inside.
Simon Riley prefers having a good session as opposed to a quickie. He likes doing things in the privacy of your shared home (because then you can be loud and cry his name as you cum on his cock for the 4th time 🤭). Sometimes, he’ll be desperate though, and this is when he gets a lil impatient. Like this one time, he went with you to your family’s Christmas party while being on leave for only a week, and he needed you. That man took you in the bathroom and railed you so hard you couldn’t leave for 15 minutes until you could stand without shaking (also not me writing this rn).
Simon Riley, upon specific request, will wear the mask in bed. Honestly, don’t expect this for a while, however. The mask serves as his identity - his separation from you. This will take a lot of courage on his behalf as you’re wanting to bring in something containing his countless sins and crimes into such an intimate situation. Like I said!!! It takes a while to get him this comfortable. Try to rush the process and you’re missing out on some pretty intense and animalistic fucking. It’s a rare time you can expect a more vicious kind of dirty talk from him: “fuckin’ hell, you like being a dirty little slut, huh?” “that pretty little face of yours deserves to be fucked” “your pussy was made for me” “shut up and keep taking it like a good girl should” “ahh, begging for my cock like the needy little slut you are”
Simon Riley loves aftercare, and he makes sure you feel loved during that time. Sweet Angel, we don’t deserve him. Massages, baths, checking on you emotionally and mentally, he’ll make you dinner, put on your favorite movie, and relax with you while he showers you with unconditional love and adoration. He’s obsessed with you. Get over it.
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