cherri

Simon Riley who’s filthy, nasty, dirty, disgusting.

Simon Riley who likes when you come home from working out, sweaty, a mess, salty, and drenched.

Simon RIley who likes when you haven’t taken a shower in two days. When your smell is nasty, pungent, and penetrating. Strong and stinging.

Simon Riley who insists you don’t shower when he comes home from a mission, wants you reeking of your natural odors, so he can lick the fucking smell clean, suck the scent clean off your delicate flesh and replace it with his smell, his claim.

Simon Riley who likes when your pussy tastes salty, bitter, and balmy on his tongue after a days worth of work, when he eats you out after a particularly long mission, missed the way you melted on his tongue, delicious and tangy.

me staring at my bf when he asks me what I’m writing about but it’s just pure nasty defiling ghost smut

“Simon, I’ve never— I’ve never done this,” You stuttered over your words, fingers digging indents into his thighs as you stared up at him on your knees.

His thumb in your mouth, nudged right up against the wet flesh of your cheek, staring up at him with dewy eyes and shallow breaths.

He knows.

Knows you’ve never had a cock in your mouth, so innocent, so sweet. And here he was, thick cock in hand, reddened, swollen, precum beading at the tip. Desperate, eager, throbbing in his massive palm because he was the first to ruin your innocence, defile your purity, take it as his fucking own. A cock too fat for your first time, he knows that much.

“I know, baby,” He murmured, smearing the fat of his cock head against your plump lips, “Let me show you, yeah?”

You nodded earnestly, precum glistening on your lips.

“Yeah?” He chuckled, but it was anything but remorseful, “Want me to teach you how t’suck cock, dove?”

HAD A LITTLE TOO MANY DRINKS AT BRUNCH AND OR DINNER WHATEVER IT IS PLEASE IGNORE MY NEXT POSTS BECAUSE THE FREAK A LEEK ABOUT TO COME OUT YAY

Boyfriend! Simon Riley who loves giving you his debit card. ‘Accidentally’ leaves his card in your purse, at your house, or in your car because you pretend you don’t secretly like it when he pays for everything, when he takes care of you. Acts surprised every time you message him to tell him he left his card again— no worries, sweet’art, rather you use it anyways.

Even more so when he’s assigned to a mission, sneaks his card into your wallet before he leaves; it’s not like he’s exactly going shopping when on an assignment anyways. You protest each time, but seeing the notification on his phone of a purchase he didn’t make while away makes him content, in more ways than one. He knows you’re safe and alive. that you’re okay, when his phone dings with a sum of money withdrawn from his account— $50, $100, $300, he doesn’t care.

He takes care of what’s his.

Besides, it always guarantees that he comes home to you, his pretty dove, with a fresh set of nails and a new lingerie set for him.

✎ᝰ.ᐟ

Yay! My last post was for 1000 followers! I wasn’t going to post that au bc I wasn’t too fond of it, but it’s been in my drafts for a while so I thought I’d share anyways, there will be more parts so don’t worry!! Also idk what to call it yet so that’s why it doesn’t have a title I’ll think of one soon LOL thank you guys!!

The king assigns four knights to the princess in hopes to protect his daughter’s innocence and modesty, your virtue and purity. But your poor father doesn’t know what happens behind closed doors. Can’t seem to figure out why every potential suitor runs away with their tails tucked between their legs.

Hi hello!!!! Thank you for 1,000 followers! I have something in the works as a thank you but until then yayyyy!! ♥️🗡️🫀💌

guys am I stupid I feel like your guys fonts are way smaller than my font like how are you guys doing that LOL

Simon Riley who is just a little confused when he receives a drunk phone call from you one night, his sweet sergeant, hiccuping and giggling over your words— ‘Hi—Sir, could you come pick me up—up from the club? ‘m a little drunk.’

But he threw on his sweats anyways, was in his car without a second thought. Shoving random strangers out of the way as you clung to his bicep within minutes, trying his best not to push his arm deeper against your soft breasts and stomach.

When the two of you finally made it outside, he’s entirely too relieve to pry himself from your grasps, cool his burning skin in the fresh air. But when his focus finally drifts to your figure, scantily clad, irritation pulses his temples.

“Why the hell did’ya call me? You ain’t got any friends?”

You giggled, slurring over your words as you pushed to your tippy toes, leaning closer to his face, and crossing your hands behind your back.

“You’re my lieutenant, aren’t you? You’re supposed to take care of me.”