How I Think The 141 Would Be With You Being Pregnant.

Thinking about being a little too good at getting Johnny off. The way he grits his teeth as he thrusts into your fist, whining and begging: “Not yet—fuck—please not yet.” Brain begging for one thing, body begging for another. Hmmm

not friends not lovers but a secret third thing

Ghost never defines your relationship, and in a lot of ways what is allowed is determined by him. And he’s fine with the loose boundaries of your relationship until he realizes that you also have other people in your phone. It only really crosses his mind when you ask him to come as your date to some event and when he inevitably declines that offer what does he look like getting dressed up and forced to go talk to a bunch of fucking idiots you hit him with a shrug and mention that you’ll ask someone else. You don’t even look up from your phone but he is staring a hole into the side of your head cause who the fuck else would you ask?

photos of simon you took:

photos of simon that johnny/kyle send you:

photos simon send you:

(the guys in the photo are johnny and kyle)

Thinking about patching up ex-husband Simon Riley. He comes in with the cloak of darkness not close to sunrise, a witching hour of sorts. Three slow deliberate knocks on the other side of your door. No more and no less. Staring at the mahogany frame, you could ignore him. It would be for the best.

But ghosts tend to haunt all night.

So you'll let him in.

You always do.

Bloodied knuckles with a nasty gash on his upper eyebrow. He'll hoist you onto the bathroom countertop with your legs spread as he steps between them. Firm hands grip your waist, grounding you in your stupid decision to let your ex back into your life. Again. He doesn't flinch as you swipe the alcohol soaked towel over his eyebrow wound. Determined eyes search your face in hopes you'll crack under his gaze.

"Ask me what happened." He whispers.

"No." you dab the towel more firmly on his eyebrow as it soaks the raging red liquid.

Simon grabs your wrist and leans down, his lips pressing into the shell of your ear. "Really?" Your heart pounds in your chest, as your body betrays you for your ex -- feeling a heat set every fiber of you ablaze. His teeth grazing your skin as he noses his way down the column of your neck and breathes in your unyielding scent. He knew the effect he still had on you and you hated yourself for it.

"Birdie really doesn't wanna know what I did to that bloke you went out with last week?"

gazghost needs to be talked abt more. need to be the rookie recruit who catches ghost bottoming for gaz and having to lick the cum out of his hole

omg i got so lightheaded i had to lie down for a bit. bottom ghost is so scrumptious and i should start writing about fucking him until he's gaping more often. red u get it so bad

hnngnhhh just being tugged over by gaz after he's pulled out and pushed down to your knees right behind your lieutenant's dripping asshole. he's reaching back and spreading himself open for you, peeking over his shoulder with those sweet, teary eyes, silently demanding (pleading) you clean him up.

gaz has a firm hold on your nape, guiding you forward, and you flatten your tongue against ghost's balls to follow the streak of cum that leads back up to his hole. he's so pliant like this—both body and personality—as you lap at his stretched rim. whimpers real airily too when your tongue dips inside, mind still a jumbled mess from gaz's rough fucking, and you just about make the same noise when your head is pushed closer.

"atta girl," gaz sighs, replacing ghost's slipping hand with his own and spreading a fat ass cheek so he can really see how your tongue works. "tha's a good pup, make him feel good."

you're so eager—angling your head better so you can shove your tongue as deep as possible, making all these soft, keening noises, hands squeezing at his meaty thighs. you're practically making out with his hole, sloppily mopping up as much cum as you can while he rocks back, white-knuckling the desk beneath him.

meanwhile, gaz is watching intently, lazily pumping his still-hard cock as he murmurs praises to the both of you. he guides you when you get too self-indulgent (play with his balls, too, eh? simon loves it, look how much his cock's leakin'), and he prods a finger around your tongue, chuckling when ghost arches his back into a lovely little bow.

him leaning over to check on his lieutenant and smiling when he finds the bigger man damn near cross-eyed and drooling right through his mask...

MDNI 18+

loser simon riley unaware that he is largely endowed getting laid for the first time

cw: loss of virginity, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, simon is down bad

simon getting pussy for the first time and doesn’t know how to act

“fuck si, your huge,” your hand gently stroking his cock, as he tried his best to not come right there and then. everything felt like a wet dream, a pretty girl like you all dolled up fisting his cock as you kissed his neck, perched up on his lap. your pretty pink lace panties tossed on the floor as you grinned on his muscular thighs, the idea of his cock deep inside you made you feel little achy in between your legs.

“i don’t know if it’ll fit,” you whined as you rubbed it along your glossy cunt, his cock painfully hard as he smeared the pre cum all over you. “it’ll fit, i promise,” simon groaned when you gently nudged his sensitive tip to your soppy hole, barely in and he was already a mess.

he would make it fit, god he would do anything to feel your small cunt around him.

you sank down inch by inch, but the stretch was too much, burning slightly as your cunt accommodated to his length. “is it all the way in si?” your voice trembling as you bit down on your glossy lip, your body already trembling.

“almost half way,” his large tatted hands gently holding your sides, “please, i need all of you.”

simon didn’t care if he sounded pathetic, because he was. he was so god damn desperate to feel something other than his calloused hands, or the stupid flesh light that he got.

“please, jus’ a lil more, i’ll make you feel good, please.” he begged, barely half way in and your cunt felt so warm, so welcoming - he couldn’t just let you go.

slowly you took him all the way in, your body shaking as the prominent bulge in your stomach was displayed, your breaths coming out in pants.

“i’ll make you feel good, i promise.”

his thrusts were awkward at first, you were just so damn tight like you are sucking him back in, barely pulling out a few inches before slamming back into you.

“too big si,” your nails slowly digging into his skin as your gummy walls clenched around him. “you can take it, yer doin’ so well.” he cooed softly as his mind went hazy with pleasure, a guttural groan leaving his lips as he bounced you on top of him.

you were like his personal flesh light, so warm and loving, your sweet cunt tightly snug against his cock - god he wasn’t going to stop.

his thrusts turned sloppy, the sound of skin slapping filled the room as you bounced mindlessly on his cock. you were too damn cock drunk to even think, his fat tip hitting all of your sweet spots.

“si, i think i’m gonna come.” the comment alone snapped simon out of his trance. the thought of you clenching tightly around him, whilst you came on his cock, it dribbling down almost made him come right there and then.

he wrapped his tatted arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest as he thrusted into your cunt harshly, your body trembling trying to get away from the amount of pleasure. “stay here please, i’ll make you feel good,” simon mumbled as he held you tightly in his arms,

the moment you came so did he, the feeling of your walls clenching around him was too much, he wasn’t used to it after all - only the feeling of his rough palms and the loveless toy.

“did you just-”

“fuck ‘m sorry, you just felt too good.” he grimaced at his apology, his hands wrapped your waist as if he didn’t want to let you go. “jus’ one more please?”

his eyes glued to the way his cum slowly oozed out of your cunt.

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It's been seven months since she's stopped holding his hand all the time and started walking four little steps ahead. Simon grapples with his daughter's newfound independence.

She is his measure of time.

Simon makes sure to count every inch his daughter grows. How much bigger and looser it feels every time she holds his hand while they walk down the block to see what the new weekly special is at the ice cream parlor. His little bug’s favorite flavor changes every time they go – it was Lemonberry Crunch last week, now it’s一

“A scoop of the… Maple… Buttercream Delight.” 

“Two.” she corrects him, tugging on his hand. Her eyes sparkle at him, and a soft quiver hits her lips. She got that look from you. Simon doesn’t approve of it, not at all. It weakens him and makes it harder to deny you both anything, but he pushes through today with a pat on her beanie-covered head. He’s been meaning to buy her a new one after she pulled the pom-pom off.

“No, sweetheart. Jus’ one, yeah? Two’ll make your tummy upset.”

The sulking, woeful look shrouds her face in an instant. It’s fatal. Her little hand drops from his jacket to her side, and he’d buy out all the tubs of ice cream for her if he could. 

“Sorry, bug. Jus’ don’t want you gettin’ sick ‘cause o’ me anymore.” he apologizes, nodding and mouthing ‘one’ to the girl on the other side of the counter to confirm. She smiles and fills the stubby paper cup up with one scoop, and his daughter sighs and longingly looks up at it as they weigh it, tiny fingers twiddling at the edge of her puffer. 

“It’ll be three-oh-four, sir.”

He opens his wallet (the one his little girl made for him herself with zebra-print duct tape and neon-colored construction paper – incredible what kids can do) and pulls a tenner out. Before he can hand it to the young lady, his hand knocks on his thigh, smacking with urgency. 

“I wanna give it, Daddy!” she says, buoyant on the tips of her toes, hopping up and down.

“Y’do, do ya?” 

“Yes! Please!” She’s already being given the tenner, a wide smile on her face as she clumsily pushes the note into the woman’s hand. “Here y’go!”

He can’t help but chuckle a bit, thanking them before telling them to keep the change. Asks for a single pence back before they leave just because his little one’s been obsessed with collecting one from everywhere they go – she likes to tape them inside a notebook and label their source. Simon takes the ice cream and drops the coin into her waiting hands. She pockets it with a toothy grin, cheering and skipping over to their usual booth by the window.

It's been seven months since she's stopped holding his hand all the time and started walking four little steps ahead.

Simon grapples with his daughter's newfound independence.

It’s a funny thing to mull over in the middle of an ice cream shop, yet so easy to do when he watches her act so brazen with him, waving him over like he’s a servant who’s fallen behind. Not much of a difference anyway, is there?

They settle down in the chairs, and she digs into the creamy dessert. 

“Oh, this is excellent.” she sighs, nodding. He’s raised an ice cream critic. Terrible influence, he is. “Five hundred stars.”

A smile tugs on his lips again, and he folds a napkin to wipe off the ice cream she unintentionally smears on the corners of her lips, leaning over the table一

She stops him and grabs the napkin. Tiny hand with a determined grip. “I can do it, Daddy.”

The words dig at his heart. He almost frowns, but lets go of the napkin for her.

“Alright, bug.”

It gets harder every time, facing the inevitable interruption of a constant in his life. He loves to see it though. Loves to watch her grow into her own person. She picks out her own clothes一has been for a while now. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare to. He thinks the lion on her shirt pairs nicely with the blue camo pants anyway, topped off with the purple puffer she picked out last month, and yellow, squeaky rain boots. 

The rain is picking up, and he wonders if you’re still sleeping in. Should be, he hopes. You need the rest.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, love.” he hums.  

“Do you want some?” 

“No, sweetheart.” he chuckles. “M’alright, thank you.”

She eats until two more spoonfuls are left, not bothering to hide the unpleasant expression on her face from a full belly. Simon finishes it for her before they leave to walk it off, and again, she’s prancing ahead.

Her feet land her in every puddle she can find, her voice says a seraphic ‘hello’ to everything they pass (even the lonesome squirrel she spots at the park and the jogger with headphones in), and she’s dancing in the rain like a little drunken man with no worries or doubts in the world.

“C’mon, bug, up,” He lifts her up, sitting her on his forearm and pulling her hood over her head. “Gotta ge’ ‘ome before it starts stormin’.”

She lays her padded head on his shoulder, and he pats her back. She’s stopped gluing her hand to her father’s everyday, but she still burrows into his chest like a kitten. It’s the safest place she knows.

“Can we all huggle when we’re ‘ome, Daddy?” 

“Y’wan’ a huggle, love?”

“Yes, with Mum an’ Chunky. When it rains, it’s the… the best time for a huggle.” Chunky, her beloved toy gorilla. Simon recalls catching her bathing the poor thing in the soapy water-filled sink. It took him half a day to figure out how to properly dry the toy without permanently damaging his daughter’s cherished friend.

He presses a kiss on her dampened, plump cheek.

“‘Course, sweetheart. All four o’ us.”

when you married ghost , it's automatic that you're married to the rest. that's why they call it one for one. hubby's friend comes over with just you in your robe, nude underneath, and price needs a little taste? no problem captain hubby, lieutenant's consent and yours is given. soap is drunk and needs help with his boner? baby, im here, it's okay. you assure him while simon watch you two proudly. while, kyle, his big respect to the both of you hindrances his needs. simon appreciates that, big time. at the same time, we're family here sergeant. you nod and brush your palm on top kyle's lap to gently assure him as you agree with simon, yes, that's right. let me help you, sweety.

it's just something to love about the concept of your beefy husband casually fucking you whenever he wants, and letting other gigantic men who are very close to him, share you.

He's about to rain down a million smooches

Thank you so much to @tacticallyunsoundjohnnyboy for commissioning me to draw my favourite husbands 🫶