Simon who yearns for his pregnant wife. (MDNI 18+)
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Simon Riley wasn’t sure what the hell he was listening to.
Or more accurately… what kind of nonsense these sergeants were going on about.
"Fuckin' hell.” one of them, Ramirez, muttered over his mug. "Wife's knocked up with number two, and it's like tryin' to hump a bloody beach ball. No positions work, she's always knackered, and half the time she just wants to sleep. Sex? More like a chore I gotta check off the list."
The others chuckled, nodding like it was the gospel. "Tell me about it.” another chimed in. "Mine's the same. Gained a ton already, and the hormones? Christ, one minute she's all over me, the next she's cryin' over a stupid animal shelter Ad. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."
Simon didn't move, didn't breathe a word. His gloved hands tightened around the edge of his tac vest, but not from anger. No, it was something hotter, sharper, coiling low in his gut.
They were wrong.
So bloody wrong.
He thought of you—his wife, his everything—curled up in their bedroom back home, that soft swell of your belly just starting to show under his old shirts you loved to steal. Five months along, and you were glowing, all curves and fire, your body a map he couldn't stop exploring.
He shifted, feeling an erection growing under his gear. Just the thought of you did that to him now. The way your breasts were fuller, heavier, straining against the lace he bought you the last time he was on leave.
How your hips swayed a little wider when you walked, teasing him without even trying. Sex wasn't a chore—no—it was a privilege.
Last night, you'd been on your side, his hand splayed over the bump where their little one kicked, and he'd slid into you slow, deep, your gasps mixing with his growls. "Simon..” you'd moaned, arching back against him, your skin fever-hot and slick. He'd cum faster than a fucking virgin, all because of how beautiful you were, swollen with his child.
The sergeants droned on, oblivious. Simon pushed off the wall, a ghost in the dim light, heading home.
He needed you now—needed to feel that life you'd made together, to bury himself in the woman who turned his world from shadows to something worth fighting for.
As he stepped into the your home, the door clicked shut behind him, he found you on the couch, feet up, reading one of those baby guidebooks with a smirk.
"Miss me, Lieutenant?" you teased, eyes sparkling.
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he knelt before you, hands gentle on your thighs, trailing up slow as his gaze darkened. "Every fuckin' second, lovie. Especially now."
His voice was rough, laced with that hunger only you ignited. And as he leaned in, lips brushing the curve of your belly before he found his way between your thighs, he knew this was heaven, not hell.
hard of hearing!simon riley who comes home from a long op to you already mid-rant about your day, talking at full volume while you cook. He doesn’t flinch at the noise like he does with everyone else. Instead his shoulders drop, he leans against the doorway, and just watches you with that unreadable stare. You’re the only sound that doesn’t make his head hurt.
hard of hearing!simon riley who leaves little notes on the counter when his hearing is especially shot, but still pulls you into his lap on the couch so he can feel your chest vibrate while you yap. He rests his good ear against you, eyes half-closed, letting your endless chatter and giggles rumble through him like a balm.
hard of hearing!simon riley who fucks you with one hand cupped behind your head, tilting your mouth right against his better ear. He wants every broken whimper, every loud “Simon—fuck—right there—”, every single rambling praise you can’t stop spilling while he pounds into you deep and slow.
hard of hearing!simon riley who flips you onto all fours and presses his chest to your back, mouth right behind your ear. He rails you with one hand gripping your jaw so your loud, desperate moans go straight into his better ear. “Louder,” he grunts every time your voice starts to crack. “Need to hear you fall apart.”
hard of hearing!simon riley who discovers he can make you scream by curling his thick fingers just right while eating you out. He sucks on your clit and pumps two fingers deep, eyes locked on your face as you yap and cry and moan loud enough that the neighbors probably hate you. He doesn’t care. The louder you get, the harder he works you until you’re gushing on his tongue.
hard of hearing!simon riley who fucks you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. He keeps one hand behind your head so your face stays buried against his neck and shoulder. Every time you moan and babble right into his good ear he slams into you harder, chasing that perfect pitch in your voice when you’re about to cum.
hard of hearing!simon riley who, on nights when the tinnitus is brutal, puts in earplugs on purpose just to heighten everything else. He fucks you in complete silence for him — only feeling the slap of skin, the way your body vibrates with every loud moan, your nails raking down his back. When he finally yanks the plugs out and your wrecked, screaming orgasm floods his ear, he cums instantly, burying himself to the hilt with a broken groan.
hard of hearing!simon riley who keeps you plugged full of his cock after he cums, lying on top of you while you’re still yapping sleepily. You’re mumbling about how full you feel, how much you love when he fucks you stupid, how his cum is leaking out already — soft, cockdrunk rambling right against his ear. He stays buried inside you, eyes closed, letting your voice lull the ringing away until he falls asleep.
hard of hearing!simon riley who starts waking you up with his head between your thighs just so the first thing he hears in the morning is your loud, surprised moan turning into endless yapping as he works you open with his tongue and fingers. Best sound in the world.
patience was worked through simon. etched, carved into every fiber of his being. he was born with it, the rough military work simply engraving it deeper. it came easy to him, he knew the mistakes when it came to rushing, he knew the risks of impatience, disobedience.
yet patience burned away at his nerve endings, sizzling out the tips of his fingers, his toes. he was never patient with you, all hands and teeth. and here he was, fingers wrapped tight around a beer with you in his lap. his poor cock oozing into you, slathering your soft walls disgustingly.
but the most disgusting part. you weren’t even fucking moving, not an inch, he couldn’t even feel your breaths. just your pretty pussy planted onto him, sucking him in and holding there nice and warm. it was so cruel, had his mind dripping in cruel, poised thoughts. knuckles white at the back of your neck, pressing your tears into the couch cushions as his hips fucked… no. no.
his hips bucked just slightly, subconsciously as want, need, began to consume him. and the slight movement had him whimpering out, had his head rolling back against the wooden framing of the couch. if he could just…. just once more.
“simon.” your tone was berating. you couldn’t even bother him a look over your shoulder, just a demand. a demand that had his balls aching, his poor cock thudding inside of you, milking itself dry without even a fucking release.
he breathed slowly, shallowly. before he smiled gently, free hand resting just gently on your thigh. his motive clear as his thick, rough fingers stretched out. his movements were slow, precise, desperate to not distract you, fingers just ever so slightly brushing across the slick nub of your clit.
slap!
“keep tryin’ it ‘nd you’ll be here all week.” you snapped, chin jutting angrily. he was so damn impatient, always expected to get what he wanted the second he wanted it. he needed to learn obedience, to be a good boy. “and i won’t let you fuckin’ cum once.”
he whined, vocal cords going raw as it pitched into a greedy growl. he was panting, so worked up, so needy. he couldn’t help the roll of his hips despite your threatening words, couldn’t help the shudder, the shaky, desperate thrust of his hips as he came.
“m’sorry, mmph… so sorry, love,” he couldn’t even form a sentence, rocking into you as he worked himself through his own pathetic release. you tried shoving him down, but his hips were stronger, glued to your backside as he shook. “just…. i-i had to…. hurt so bad, baby, don’t you understand? needed to cum so b- hah- bad.”
he was babbling, beer spilling onto the couch cushions, release so heavy his thighs pressed together beneath you. his head lolled back, hips stuttering to a slow halt, his tongue drooling out at his bottom lip as he whimpered out low, heavy breaths. he couldn’t get a grip of himself, especially not with the way his cum began to seep out of you, pooling at the base of his cock.
when he finally blinked, fluttering the blurry haze away from his vision, his heart was stopping next. you were glaring back at him, teeth just ever so slightly bared… and god, he fucked up.
he hates it. he loathes it. what, you think he's not good enough to satisfy you?
arriving at your door, he can hear small whirs and moans coming from the other side. at first, he thinks you're cheating on him but it's much worse.
the door opens rapidly, the sound startling you badly. then, he sees the obscene sight before him.
you're using a fucking toy? over asking him?
he doesn't know what kind of conundrum you're in, but he doesn't like this situation one bit. honestly, it's a bit traitorous to trust a stupid silicone toy that vibrates over your own man that's literally fucked you into oblivion a million times before this.
"really? a bloody toy?" he asks, accent heavy.
you stare at him dumbfounded and the vibrations of the device inside you seemed to have stopped, when it really didn't. but, all you could do was watch in shock as he walks over towards you, shutting the door behind him, both offended and angry.
your legs are spread, hand right against your folds that are filled with the thing he hates so much. there's a tinge of humiliation that makes your cheeks turn pink.
then, without warning, he presses against your clit with the pad of his thumb, sending a huge wave of pleasure over you.
"i-i thought you were busy..." you mutter, back arching in heavenly pleasure.
"me? not if it was for you," he replies.
he pulls the toy out, tossing it across the room, sending your slick pretty much flying everywhere. he doesn't think twice before putting his hand back between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make you mewl.
"ngh— i'm sorry!" you yelp.
"and i'm sure ya' are," he says. "now, do you want me or the stupid toy?"
you're quick to answer: "you,"
it doesn't take long for him to fill you up with his huge fingers, one already stretching you out more than the sex object you used previously. you let out a loud moan when he enters another finger, adding more to the burn.
you squirm, feeling him start to move, the friction helping you continue approaching the orgasm. he's so mean. he doesn't let you adjust before finger-fucking you to the next world, digits pushed in and out of you rapidly, pace consistent.
the room is echoing to your moans endlessly, the lewd sound of his fingers squelching accompanying it. your noises grow louder, more desperate.
"you wanna cum?" he asks, watching as your facial expressions change from one of fear to overstimulation.
you nod frantically, drool travelling down your chin.
"use your words, baby," he says.
"y-yes!" you yell.
and he quickens, faster than you think was possible, the tips of his fingers hitting all the right spots exactly. you can feel the roughness and warmth of his hand, feel it moving in and out. then, you feel it.
you release, letting evidence of your orgasm coat his fingers fully, watching as he pulled it out and held it right in front of your eyes to see before licking it off in one go.
"next time, just call me," he says, leaving the room.
please PLEASE Can you write reader ovulating with Simon Riley, his dick would hurt by the end.
what happens to simon riley when you're ovulating
(his dick would fall off if it were me tbh)
your sex life with simon is already active as is, so the moment you start ovulating, he's in trouble. serious trouble. you can barely keep yourself off of him. everything he does sends a throbbing want to your pussy.
manspreading? you're already on top of him, tugging his jeans down just enough to ride his heavy cock. his big hands find purchase on your hips, grunting lowly.
"fuckin' eager, huh?" he's only half hard by the time you're bouncing on him, and you don't get off until either of you can't speak, and you've ruined yet another pair of his jeans from the amount of slick and cum that stains the fabric.
rolling up his sleeves, seeing the way his forearms and veins flex? you're begging him to finger you, and he gladly listens.
"need me t'fuckin' fill ya full, don't ya?" bent over whatever surface of your house, stuffed full of his fingers knuckle deep as your walls clench around him. one orgasm isn't enough, two, three, four, five until you're babbling incoherently and spraying the front of his shirt with your release.
the thing men do when they reverse, placing one hand behind the passenger seat? belt, GONE. you make hasty work of his jeans just so you can suck his dick as he drives—bonus points if he's still reversing. half-way laid across the center console with a face-full of his throbbing cock, already leaking pre. he's a mess, whimpers spilling from his lips as he bites down on the plush flesh. he's pulling your panties to the side, burying three fingers deep in your cunt with ease at the sheer wetness of your pussy.
him, reading with glasses? you bet he isn't taking his eyes off a single page as he ruts into you from behind, book laid across your back slick with sweat. he might be a little mean, make you fuck yourself back on his dick, balls slightly slapping your clit enough to make your eyes roll back into your head. get a drop of cum on his book, and he'll punish you.
getting passionate about his interests? fuck in missionary so he can continue yapping as he toys with your clit and pounds into your throbbing cunt. his words are long lost on you—you don't even notice when his words start getting condescending.
"always gettin' in m'pants..." he grunts, the sound of skin slapping and mindless whimpers and mewls fill the room, "fuckin' slut, you tryin' to get pregnant? want me t'fill you? dirty whore..."
by the end of your ovulation phase, you might've definitely gotten knocked up, and his dick is no longer with us. (he still has his hands and face, ladies...)
You stand in the kitchen of the quaint apartment you share with Simon. Your arm is outstretched, keeping you steady against the edge of the counter, and your ankles are crossed below you. The blinking clock on the stove reads 12:24 A.M, the dim glow of streetlights pours in through the window above the sink, and all you did was come in for a drink of water, but you still hear the shuffling footsteps of your boyfriend who walks like the dead when he's tired.
His arms wrap around your waist, swallowing your body whole with the sheer size of him, locking you down in place. He places a kiss on your shoulder while his hands roam. One hand snakes under his over-sized shirt you wear, bunching it up until his palm finds your breasts and he squeezes the plush skin. His other hand makes its way to your thin, cotton panties, pushing past the waistband and finding its way in between your thighs.
"So warm," he whispers groggily, placing a soft kiss to your neck, and goosebumps line your skin despite the warmth his body has to offer.
His chest is pressed against your back, his mouth to your skin, and the longer you linger there with his hands caressing your body, the more you want him. He sucks, bites, licks your neck, leaving purple bruises to ache in his wake, all while he continues to stimulate every last part of you. His fingers toy with your nipple, pulling and pinching until it peaks within his grasp. His palm grinds against your clit, just enough to drive you insane but not enough to do really anything.
"Si," you say breathlessly, moving your hips with the rhythm of his body unintentionally, rubbing your ass against his hard cock that aches in his boxers which earns you a groan of desire from the man behind you. "Let's go back to bed, Si."
"Can't make it to the bed lovie… need to be inside you here, right now," he says, voice low and rough around the edges with lust as he pushes down your panties until your legs are forced to uncross and the fabric strains against your skin.
Your breath catches in your throat from his words, desire builds in you until you know your pussy is soaking, until a heat begins to pool in your lower belly that only he can soothe. You spread your legs wider, gripping the edge of the counter with both of your hands, arching your back into him when you hear the rustle of his boxers being pushed down.
His hand pushes up your shirt as his fingers kiss your spine deliciously, pressing down to arch your back further, presenting your bare pussy to him and he notches his tip against your entrance. You push back on him, sinking an inch inside of you with ease, and the two of you share a raw moan of pleasure. He pushes in the rest of the way, groaning from the feeling of your warm, wet walls wrapped so tightly around him, and he doesn't stop until his cock is buried against your cervix.
"Goddamit," he says behind clenched teeth, "you're so tight around me."
You squirm your hips, begging for friction, and he places both of his hands on your hips until his fingers dig into the fat of your skin and begins to pound into you. Every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping for more. The veins and ridges of his cock slide through your walls, molding your pussy to him, leaving no space inside of you empty for long as he repeatedly fills you to the brim.
"F-fuck Si," you stutter, lifting your hips with need, meeting his every thrust with one of your own.
His hips roll against your own, finding a rhythm of harmony between the two of you, delivering the same amount of pleasure with each last thrust. He slams against your cervix, and your pussy clamps down on his length. He pulls out until only the tip remains, and your pussy sucks him back in. Angling his hips, he finds your sweet spot with ease, hitting it with precision and leaving your toes curling against the tile of the kitchen floor.
"You feel so good baby," he praises, leaning down until his bare chest is pressed against your back, his hands finding their previous positions on your body.
You cry out when his fingers find your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves in between his calloused fingers before rolling and rubbing at the same pace of his relentless thrusts. His other hand finds your breasts under the sea of fabric, latching onto your nipple and twisting until it hardens from his touch. His thrusts continue to drive you towards your inevitable orgasm, each one hitting your sweet spot, then your cervix, then pulling out and stretching your entrance wide to accommodate his length.
"S-so close Si," you say breathlessly, your eyes shutting tight while you focus on every touch from him, every sensation.
Your words spur him on as his lips find your neck where he kisses over blooming bruises, his tongue parting his lips for him to lick the salty-sweet sweat of your skin, and you're completely lost in it. Your mouth hangs open ever so slightly as moans pour from you, drool drips from your chin, tears stain your cheeks from the sheer amount of pleasure running through your body.
"I know baby, I know," he whispers, kissing just below your ear, holding you up when your knees grow weak from the tender press of his mouth. "Cum on me lovie, for me."
His words turn to begs, which turn into groans of desire while he continues to fuck into you like he wasn't just fast asleep. With a wider stance, he digs into you, reaching deeper, fucking you faster, thrusting harder, anything to push you over the sweet edge your body so desperately craves. Your nails try to find purchase against the smooth countertops, trying to steady yourself when your legs grow numb and your mind can't focus on anything over then him.
A shiver runs down your spine, your body grows rigid, your muscles draw taut. His finger works your clit effortlessly, drawing your orgasm out of you as if you have no control over it. A broken moan falls from your lips when cum gushes from your entrance, coating his length, leaving behind rings of cream at his base. Your pussy clenches rhythmically around his length, pulsing with lingering pleasure, and Simon can't help but drop his gaze to where the two of you are connected.
"So beautiful," he says, more to himself than anything else. "That feel good?"
You nod your head frantically, dropping your forehead to the counter, the frigid stone cooling your body temperature. His hand runs down your spine again after he eases up on your clit when your body begins to jerk from overstimulation, and your back arches the more he thrusts into you. His grunts and groans turn rawer, the need for his own release building, and he turns his focus to that.
"Gonna fill you up, huh baby? That sound good?"
He knows the answer to it, which is why he wastes no time in drilling into you. Hips rolling against yours, fingers digging into any skin on your body they can find, his sounds of pleasuring ringing out in the small space around you two of you, and his release is crashing through him.
"F-fuck, oh fuck," he curses, his length twitching deep inside of you as he continues to rub against your raw walls with need.
With a few more thrusts and a guttural groan, long, thick ropes of warm cum flood your pussy, leaking out from his tip with every pulse of his orgasm, coating your walls in everything he has to give. His body stills, only the slightest thrusts and movements to draw his climax out for as long as possible remain, and your pant against the counter trying to catch your breath when his body collapses against yours.
He rests his forehead against your lower back, kissing the skin oh-so softly while he pulls out of you, hissing from the stimulation of his tip sliding through your tight entrance. Your legs shake, your arms feel weak, your body is beyond tired from what he just did to you. He drops down to his knees behind you to clean up the mess left in between your legs before lifting your panties back up and slapping your ass.
Simon leaves a kiss on the raw skin while standing up and turning you around to throw you over his shoulder. He stomps back to the bedroom, throwing you onto the mattress, and slides in right beside you. Pulling the sheets over the two of you, he wraps his arms around your body, making sure you're tightly secure before he begins to growl about how you are stealing his precious sleep from him.
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thinking about simon riley getting jealous of the things you put in your mouth...
Simon should really look away.
But he can’t. Because the way your lips close around that grenade pin, teeth gripping the metal as you jerk your head back and pull it free? Well, it has him thinking dangerous things.
He can’t tear his eyes away from you as you throw it right into the enemy’s pile of ammo and it explodes with a deafening boom. And when you turn to him, framed in fire, a triumphant smile on that pretty mouth?
He’s done for.
Back on base, it’s pure coincidence that he walks past the gym and sees you inside, giving the punching bag hell. His boots falter as you whip around, focused and mean, and strike the bag with your glove hard. The impact rattles the chain and stirs hot, wicked embers deep in his gut.
Suddenly, you turn, eyes snapping to his through the window. But Simon can’t bring himself to move. Slowly, you raise your hand and rip the velcro strap of your glove back with your teeth, pulling it tighter around your wrist.
The tension finally comes to a head late one night at the range. You’re there with your newly issued Glock, putting a few rounds through it before the op the next day when he silently chooses the lane next to yours, despite all the rest being empty.
You don’t say anything, but your eyes flick to his under his mask as you bring a bullet to your lips. You tuck the blunt end between your canines, cock the chamber back, and then proceed to drop the bullet into the gun.
Simon watches you, his gaze catching on the purse of your lips, your lashes brushing your cheeks as you grab another and place it into the slot with your mouth, the way your tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip to taste the gunpowder—
Suddenly, he’s moving, shoving his way into your lane and plucking the bullet from your lips with two gloved fingers.
“Want somethin’ in your mouth so bad?” he grunts. “All you have’ta do is ask.”
“God, Ghost,” you groan, hands already fumbling with his belt. “Fucking finally—”
-Owner!Ghost x hybrid! Bunny! Reader whos foot keeps thumping on the ground as Ghost continues to get to busy to pet them. Maybe cleaning up their bed because they got stains all over it because they ate sweets in it. (Something they weren’t supposed to do)
-Owner!Ghost who sighs as you continue to sneak unhealthy snacks from the pantry. He finds you burrowed in the warm clean laundry nibbling on chocolate. His once clean pants now stained with chocolate. (;¬_¬)
-Owner! Ghost who gets more annoyed as he finds you sitting under the bed while chewing on the wooden bed post. He shoots a look at the pile of chew toys he got for you! Gah he’s so annoyed at how spoiled you’re getting!
-Owner! Ghost who finally has enough and realizes he has to do his least favorite thing and punish his sweet little bunny! He grips your hips and pulls you out from under the bed. (╥_╥)
-Owner! Ghost plopping you on his lap while pulling your cute little shorts down. Your mouth nibbling and licking his fingers. Cute butt on full display, tail wiggling. He mentally calculates to himself how many times you didn’t listen this week. Ten times in total.
-Owner! Ghost’s hand landing on your ass. You stiffen, letting out a small yelp. Trying to wiggle away, he grips your hips harder. (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
-“You’re going to count- hold still baby- every single spank. Do you know why? Because you were bratty alllll week. Okay?”
-Owner! Ghost who smiles to himself a bit as you start counting. Noticing how you start to leak after the fifth spank. Soft coos telling you how well your doing and how your almost done.
-Owner! Ghost how hugs you and coos as he tells you how well you did. Petting those sweet fluffy ears as you sniffle, your stomach warm with pleasure. （˶′◡‵˶）
