Simon Riley posts an ad for a stray cat he does not want and you answer.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem! Reader
Tags: short n’ sweet, fluff, smut, dirty talk, fingering, Creampie, penis in vagina sex, over use of terms of endearment
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | mlist | ao3
this chapter does contain smut, 18+ content & is the final chapter
A cat.
His stupid cat.
His stupid fawn-colored cat.
Found three days later wedged under a dumpster in an alleyway, she yowled high-pitched and distressed when Simon pulled her out. Fawn-colored fur a little dirty and matted, hungry and scared, but she wasn’t hurt, no scratches or cuts on her after a quick examination.
Churro was okay.
Never better as she snuggled into his arms as soon as she recognized his gruff voice and broad chest. Grumbled harsh grievances to her he didn’t really mean as he carried her home because she was gone for three whole days, making his pretty cat lady entirely too stressed over a feline.
Only cursed more complaints at her when he attempted to bathe her. A bath that only resulted in scratches on his forearms and hands, left him with a cat still filthy and matted— Don’t you trust me, bloody pest?
So, he cleaned her down with a warm moist towel and wiped the bigger clumps of dirt out the best he could after he gave her a bowl of food and water. Even gave her one of the creamy snack pouches she likes before he sent you a picture of her curled on his couch like she never left— Sweet girl is here.
Your response is instant, sending an overwhelming amount of exclamation marks, capital letters, and hearts that make the corners of his lips twitch chest warming. You ask him if he can drop her off at your place since you can’t come pick her up. It’s the first time you’ve invited him over, the first time he’ll see you since he carried your crying frame to his bed and cuddled you to sleep. Since you woke up in his arms, pressing yourself deeper into his chest with a quiet noise of protest when he tried to get up.
The image of you snuggling closer into him played in his mind on repeat, blinking up at him bleary-eyed and swollen from crying the night before, tangled in his sheets. Divine and breathtakingly gorgeous with bed head and groggy smiles. Took all his strength not to pin you under his larger frame and kiss your morning breath away. Melt all your worries about Churro’s safety with his tongue and fingers.
He settled with a kiss to your temple.
When he arrives at your apartment, he tries to ignore the fact that his precious girl has been living in a shitty neighborhood. Apartment is even shittier, no cameras or bolted locks on your door for safety. He’ll fix that, eventually, and well, Churro already thinks his home is her second home, might as well make it her only home.
You open the door before he even has time to finish his knock, peering at him and Churro with wide, excited eyes. You lunge forward with a happy squeal, stealing Churro from his arms and squeezing her tightly in yours.
“Oh, my pretty lady! You’re okay, I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried, angel. I thought you were gone forever, don’t do that again, okay?”
Simon follows you in as you talk animatedly to Churro, pressing countless kisses to her head. Churro purrs louder than Simon’s ever heard her before as you snuggle against her face.
Before he knew you, before he knew Churro, he would’ve rolled his eyes and glowered at the display of affection to a four-legged pest, but now, he knows the two of you. Knows how much you care for her, how such an annoying animal can claw its dainty legs under his skin and carve out a Churro-shaped hole in his heart.
Now, he gets it. Now, he can’t help but crinkle his eyes affectionately at the display in front of him because it fills his chest and lungs in such a thick, tacky way he’s never felt before. And he’s just relieved that he’s the one who found her for you, who returned her to your arms, so he can be a part of the sweet interaction.
It’s a moment before you turn towards him, but he doesn’t mind. He watches you without complaint any chance he gets, doesn’t even look away when you catch him and begin to open your mouth, ask him an abundance of questions, but he speaks before you can even begin.
“Found her in an alley a few blocks from my house. Got stuck under a dumpster somehow. She isn’t hurt at all, checked her already, jus’ got lost is all. Gave her water and food too, even one of her little pouches.” He explains, your lips forming a small smile like you were trying to hold back your smug comments. “Tried to give her a bath, but she was not having it. Bloody clawed my arms raw.”
You laughed, “Cats don’t like water!”
“I know.” He said, pointing to the cuts on his hands as his evidence, “But she was dirty. Needed to bloody clean her somehow.”
You place Churro on your table, walking over to pull his hands in yours, examining the small scratches decorating his already scarred skin. He thinks you might feel bad, that you’re going to apologize for her behavior, but when you look up at him you’re smiling so big that he can hardly see your irises. It makes the breath catch in his throat that such a warm look is meant for him.
“Thank you,” You murmur, eyes glassy, “For caring for her so much. Always knew the big scary man was soft for us”
Your words, the tears welling in your lashes leave him a little speechless, staring dumbfounded for longer than he probably should. Maybe he should be offended that you’re calling him soft because he’s anything but— just for you two though.
“Of course, baby. I care about the both of you. She’s our cat and you’re my girl.”
Your eyes widen, mouth parting in quiet shock, and you divert your attention back to his arms, gently tracing the cuts in a weak attempt to distract yourself. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that without asking, but it’s true. You are his and he’s sure you know that by now.
He cups your face, fingers curling behind your head, thumbs resting in front of your ears, “My pretty cat lady.”
“I really want to kiss you right now.” You murmur.
He huffs a laugh at your confession, leaning down so that your noses press against each other, “Yeah?”
You nod coyly, wrapping both of your hands around his wrists.
So, he does.
God, it’s so fucking sweet, you’re so fucking sweet and soft that he almost thinks he doesn’t deserve it. Not when he’s quite the antithesis of such words, when callous and ruthlessness seem to describe him better when violence and bitterness seem engraved in his bones. When he hasn’t felt the urge to hold something in his grasp with such care, glass in his palms, fragile and delicate before you and Churro came into his life.
It’s tender, dragging his lips against yours languidly, but it’s deliberate, determined. Doesn’t intend to rush through the kiss, doesn’t want to diminish the moment into animalistic instincts and lust. Instead, he’ll take his time, wants to ingrain the moment, the way you taste, saccharine and sweet, the way you feel, doughy and pliant, the noises you make, melodic and mollifying, into the back of his skull.
The feeling melts over him and his tongue bursts an aromatic taste in his mouth. It’s molten honey and syrup, rich and balmy. Makes him hoist you onto your counter, wedging his way between your thighs, but you make a quiet noise of protest that makes him pull away just enough to let you breathe, lips swollen and pretty covered in his spit.
“Not here,” You pant, gesturing towards Churro perched on the table when he tilts his head in slight confusion, “Not in front of her.”
Simon laughs, you’re cute.
You hop down from the counter, tangling your fingers in his to guide him to your bedroom, closing the door behind you to lock Churro out. You peel your shirt off before climbing onto the bed, resting on your elbows to stare up at him through your lashes, rocking your foot, and biting your lip tauntingly. It makes his mouth water, crawling over your frame to grip your ankle and spread your legs wide to accommodate his size. Shifting your thighs over his hips as he settles his weight on his forearms on either side of your head.
“Thought you didn’t like cat ladies,” You tease, dipping your fingers in the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to your face.
“I don’t, jus’ you.” He stamps his mouth against yours with a bit more fever, playfully nipping against your bottom lip that earns him a muffled gasp, allows him to lick into your mouth, and delve deeper into your taste. “Must really be a witch, you an’ Churro both.”
You choke on a chuckle when he moves to the crook of your neck, littering wet stamps against the delicate flesh of your throat. Sucking the skin between his lips and teeth, kneading the supple flesh of your breasts and hips in his large palms until you begin to writhe impatiently trapped under his frame, wringing his shirt in your fists, chest swelling with shallow lungfuls.
“Must’ve put some spell on me.” He mutters, tugging at the hooks of your bra until your breast spills from the cups. “Maybe you put some potion in my tea when I wasn’ lookin’.”
You laugh again, sound morphing in a quiet whine when he seals his lips around your pebbled nipples, “No, I think Churro might be Cupid.”
He smiles around your nipple because it’s true. He never believed in fate, barely clung to the evaporating idea of love before you. If it wasn’t for that damned cat he definitely wouldn’t have you shirtless under him, hips gradually grinding against the front of his jeans the longer he takes to peel your shorts and panties off. Wouldn’t have an all-consuming desire festering in his chest.
The two of you have been playful, soft, and sweet, basking in each other’s lips and touch, but when he finally slips the lace material off your hips the room seems to shrink, becomes heady and suffocating. Makes his eyelids feel heavy, breaths ragged, turns every touch against your flesh searing and branding, burns an ache straight to your core.
He slides down your frame until his face rests between your thighs, perching one of your legs over his shoulder, and pushing the other one wide, splaying his hand on the inside of your thigh. It leaves your cunt bare and spread for him, and he has to stifle a groan at the sight.
God, are you perfect, pussy glistening and swollen for attention. For his attention, peel the hood back and suckle your clit, give the pulsing bead any stimulation.
So, he does.
Presses a soft peck against the puffy flesh.
“Simon.” You say a little breathless, and fuck does his name sound pretty on your lips.
It’s enough to entice him to lick a thick stripe over your pussy, doubling back over your clit in calculated strokes and firm shapes. Your hands fly to his head, sifting your fingers through his hair, frantically trying to grip onto something, so you don’t immediately melt into the pleasure.
But that just won’t do, will it sweetheart?
He suctions the sensitive bead between his lips and sucks gently as if not to suddenly overwhelm you.
“Simon!” You moan, arching your back slightly in shock.
The noise is hypnotizing, your taste just as addictive, and he finds himself holding your thigh down from clamping constrictively over his head, so he can lap eagerly between your folds. Each movement makes a new mewl slip from your lips, makes your pretty legs tremor and shake, stomach tightening the closer he brings you to the brink.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t imagine this situation in his head each time you sat on his couch. Had tried his best to ignore it, not picture the way you would shed your layers on his tongue, but it was almost impossible when his cock was heavy in his pants with need. And now, it’s even harder for him to stop, the thought doesn’t even cross his mind when you look so pretty laid under him, watching you arch into his touch like it’s the only thing you need.
His cock is throbbing and painfully hard in his pants when he slips a finger into your sopping cunt. He should probably work you up to it, but he can’t resist when you look so desperate, weeping for more by clinging to his digits, so he adds a second soon after. And you take it so fucking well, your gummy walls spreading so heavenly over his thick fingers.
You cry out when he begins to bury them into your welcoming cunt, smothering his tongue against your swollen clit with more fervor, a different determination to make the insistent fire lapping in your womb burst and fill the palm of his hand.
You’re gasping and shaking, gripping onto the sheets before tangling your fingers in his hair, trying to clamp your legs shut before spreading them further apart because it’s too much, body stinging with insatiable pleasure, but it's not enough at the same time, pleading your way to your orgasm.
And Simon is more than willing to give his girl what she wants.
You clench painfully around his fingers, moan punches straight out of your lungs when you finally do, burying your face into your sheets. It’s a sight watching your walls quiver, watching your hips convulse, watching your breasts jiggle with each inhale— Jesus, baby, look at tha’, fuckin’ pretty little thing you are.
He strokes your poor cunt through it, stripping himself of his clothing the best he can with one hand. His cock is already leaking, reddened, and swollen, lined up with your entrance before you’ve completely returned to reality. He doesn’t break through your walls until he’s got your lips around his, whimper deliriously into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, and cling to him desperately.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, mouth popping open when he starts to sink in. He has to rest his forehead against yours, squeeze his eyes shut at the sensation of your pussy. Warm and gummy, so fucking tight, clenching a suffocating ring around the base of his cock when he bottoms out. It takes a moment for him to muster his strength, will himself not to fucking outright cum against your cervix when you feel so fucking good.
It’s almost painful when you begin to speak and your voice is so dainty, shaky, and whiny, ask him so sweetly to move, fuck into your aching cunt and soothe the fire pulsing under your skin— Simon, oh my, you’re fucking big. Fuck, why didn’t you tell me you were this big?
He tries to laugh, but it just comes out strained, “I know, baby, I know. You can take it though, right? Make you take, don’t worry.”
You just nod at him, a little dazed from being stuffed so full, stretched so thin around his fat cock that you’d just agree to anything he says with knotted brows and pleading eyes.
He can’t wait for the day he’ll fuck you in two, make you sob and drunk off his cock, aggressive and unrelenting, bend you over every surface he can before rucking your oversized clothes up and ravaging your pretty cunt. There’s no rush, he’s waited this long to even get a taste of your lips, and he plans to keep it intimate, tender, show you how you’ve unearthed something in him he thought he wasn’t capable of. But he was, just for you.
So, he fucks you nice and slow, cock dragging against your swollen walls so heavenly, thrusts real deep and languid, kissing your cervix gently with each stroke that makes your legs shake, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Hiccuping for breath each time he pulls out to the very tip of his cock head, just to plunge back in your pulsing walls, so his balls smack lightly against your taint. Makes you take every inch so you can feel it in your fucking throat.
His name is like a prayer on your lips, chanting it between breathy whines, and weak attempts to ground yourself back to reality and not the way his fattened cock keeps grinding against that gooey spot in your pussy. Toe’s covered in your signature fuzzy socks curling against his back, arching so pretty against his pelvis each time he ruts into that gummy spot.
You whimper when he tangles his hand in yours, reciprocate the action by crossing your feet over his back, locking the both of you together. You’re babbling at this point, mewling that you’re so fucking close, please Simon, don’t stop, need it, need you.
He can’t even manage the strength to tease you, mutter playful words to you when he’s been gritting his teeth together in a weak attempt not to paint your walls white. So, his thumb finds your clit and makes your vision blur white instead, practically begging you to orgasm with encouraging praises.
Your body goes rigid, clamping narrowly around his cock as you finish, a thick ring of your arousal collecting around the base of his cock. It’s divine, all of it, your fucked out express, the sheen of sweat on your collar bones, the way you claw down his chest in ecstasy.
He’s steady through it, draws your overwhelming orgasm out as long as he can until your fingers are pressing to his hips for him to stop.
He will, just after he fucks his own cum into you.
You’re close to overstimulation and shedding tears when he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t quite want that, not yet at least, so he presses praises into your skin until you believe them, until you’re eager for him to make you two one.
Easy baby, I got you. I know, ‘ts too much isn’t it?
Jus’ a lil longer, yeah? Did s’well f’me, s’fuckin’ pretty stretched ‘round me.
Gon’ make you all mine, okay? My sweet girl now.
You finally croak back, nodding earnestly at him, “Always were.”
That pushes him right over the edge, burying himself to the hilt, so he can fill your drenched cunt, so warm and tight, with his expense. He has to bury his head in your neck, a beastly groan vibrating from his chest. The ropes are thick, balls tightening and thrumming with each emptying pump so much so that it leaks out of you.
He can barely stop himself from smashing you and going completely limp from the intensity. He kisses you instead, spends entirely too long mapping the shape of your lips that he grows a little chub in your walls when he should be cleaning the both of you up.
When he finally does pull out, you’re docile and tired, he has to carry you to the shower, clean your sweat-drenched and cum stained skin nice and pretty again, help your wobbling legs put on a fresh set of pajamas before he drapes you into your sheets again.
He crawls into the bed with you, but before he can snuggle under the blankets, you shake your head, pointing at your bedroom door.
“You gotta let pretty lady in.”
He chuckles, of course, he has to, he should’ve known without you having to tell him. Churro trots in as soon as he opens the door, following him into bed with you. He pulls you snug against his chest, banding his protective arms around you as Churro curls herself above your head on your pillow.
You smile sweetly at him when he stamps a kiss against your forehead and then against Churro’s.
A/n: Hi! This is just a little headcanon for how our favorite cat dad/fuckboy Sukuna get's ready for his date with reader. Hope you guys enjoy it!
Series Masterlist
Cat dad!Sukuna who looks at himself in the mirror, his towel hanging loosely from his waist, drops of water still running down his body as he just got out of the shower.
Cat dad!Sukuna who doesn't know why the fuck he's nervous, it's not like he hasn't gone out with you before. You both had gone to restaurants, movies and even a couple museums before you ghosted him (rightfully so).
Cat dad!Sukuna who puts on a black T-Shirt and a couple of washed up black jeans and calls it a day, only for Oni to stand next to him and meow at him.
Cat dad!Sukuna who scoffs at his cat's antics, rolling his eyes as he's about to put deodorant but the meows increase in quantity and volume. For her being a new mother she surely still acted like a little kitten sometimes.
Cat dad!Sukuna who yells "What?!" because the annoying little pest he decided to house keeps meowing at him, almost as if he was comiting a heinous crime and she had to let everyone know.
Cat dad!Sukuna who sighs as two yellow eyes look at him, as if he could understand what she was trying to say. When he ignores her one more time, she decides it's time to take action.
Cat dad!Sukuna who almost wants to scream as the cat begans clawing his clothes and for a second Sukuna thinks she's disapproving his clothes. That couldn't be it, could it? There's no fucking way she could even know what's color the celling is, let alone the fact that he's going on a date.
Cat dad!Sukuna who takes a double look at his clothes in the mirror the more Oni fights the loose threads from his pants. He was taking you to a fancy, expensive restaurant like you wanted, surely for the amount of money he's going to spend tonight it wouldn't fucking matter if he was wearing a garbage bag for pants.
Cat dad!Sukuna who thinks of you, on how hesitant you were to accept his invite. He couldn't really blame you, not when he remembers how heartbroken you looked that night you found him with a random girl in his apartment.
Cat dad!Sukuna who will never admit it, not even to Uraume, but he regretted that night. He regretted the fight you guys had the night before. He regretted getting shitfaced at a shitty dingy bar. He regretted forcing himself to flirt with that chick whose face he couldn't even remember. He regretted taking her home and having you come to what he could only guess was making up.
He regretted not doing more to reach out for you, stupidly thinking you would come back eventually.
Cat dad!Sukuna who takes off his clothes, rummaging through everything he owns until he finds something a little more appropriate. A black long sleeved dress up shirt and black pants and some shoes that didn't have dirt on them and that weren't meant for sports.
Cat dad!Sukuna who turns around to Oni that was now laying on his messy bed, cleaning herself.
"What do you think?" He asked her.
The cat stopped licking, turning to him. Big, round yellow eyes looked at him and after a few seconds she went back to her duty, now purring loudly. He supposed that was good enough.
Cat dad!Sukuna who rolls his eyes before finishing getting ready, brushing his teeth and applying the cologne he bought just this morning because he remember you liked how it smelled on him the one time he bought it. After you ghosted him he hadn't bought it again.
Cat dad!Sukuna who hears a knock on the door and gives Oni a pat in the head, ruffling her fur earning a meow in protest.
"See you later, pest."
Cat dad!Sukuna who looks at the big cat bed in the middle of the living room where all the little spawns sleep. He looks at them, one of them waking up for a second, giving him a pathetic attempt at a meow before falling asleep.
"Rats." he mumbles with the tiniest smirk known to man
Cat dad!Sukuna who opens the door, Uraume standing outside as they type something on their phone.
"You owe me." They say plainly as they hand him their car keys.
"We'll see." He says, snatching the keychain from their grasp as they walk in side.
Cat dad!Sukuna who point's at the kittens sleeping.
"They're over there. Just make sure they shit and they don't fucking die, I had to fucking baby proof the house because they keep trying to chew the fucking outlets."
Uraume just hums in agreement.
Cat dad!Sukuna who is about to leave and close the door behind him when Uraume calls him. He turns around, their arms crossed in front of their chest.
"She's not going to forgive you if you fuck up again. I'm surprised she even agreed to give you a second chance."
"I know."
Uraume hums in response, her eyebrows raising in a sarcastic way as she nodded.
"Don't fuck up."
"I won't."
Cat dad!Sukuna who finally closes the door, Uraume's words lingering in his mind. Of course he wasn't going to fuck this up, not when he finally got you back in his life again. Not when, for the first time in his life he was excited for something else other than meaningless, hookups.
He was excited to see you, spend time with you, hear everything you had to say. He was excited about the prospect of commitment, of calling you his and you calling him yours.
