Latest Posts by allpurposeramen - Page 7

Okay... all the fucking aside...

I just want to play with and grope Simon's buff pecs reverently, okay? I want to toy with his nipples and make him squirm underneath me while he tries to act like it doesn't affect him that much, but...

Sir, I can see the flush on your stubbly cheeks? SIR, I can feel your thick cock getting harder and larger inside your underwear?

I might (I will) nip at his cute nipple, flick my wet tongue over it, moan around it when I feel it harden between my lips and then bite it gently to make him gasp and then grumble in annoyance, though he still doesn't push me off of him.

And while I suck and lick on one hard bud, I'll play with the other; pinch it between my fingertips, lick my thumb and flick it over it until that cute bud is hard, too.

Meanwhile, I'm getting wet as hell just playing with his massive man tits; feeling his skin twitch and thick muscles flex beneath my touch. I can hear the way he inhales sharply through his nose and then tries to exhale slowly to control himself.

I'm worshipping him again and he still can't wrap his head around the Why?, but that's okay, because I'll do it anyway.

Man's just trying to read a book in our bed and here I am, sneaking up on him (although he saw and heard me coming, ha!) and rucking up his sleep shirt, up to his collarbones to reveal his perfect chest; my eyes darkening as if I found a treasure while he merely peeks over the edge of his hardcover book with an arched and scarred eyebrow, just the tiniest bit curious.

"If ah yer wan' me ta make luv to ya, jus' say so, lovey," he rumbles eventually, closing the book with a loud thud and placing it back on his bedside table with a sigh.

But I shake my head, glancing up at him with fluttering lashes as I shake my head, tongue circling his nipple lewdly, nearly drooling on it.

"Later," I coo softly, not even bothering to hide my amusement and excitement, "Wanna see if I can make you cum like this."

He snorts then, brows furrowing slightly as he cups the side of my neck with one calloused hand, his touch gentle and affectionate, despite the fact that his hand is large enough to wrap around my throat effortlessly.

The thought makes me squirm on top of him and he knows, because his lips crack into an imperceptible smile.

"Go on, then," he says eventually, kissing his teeth in challenge, "Ya jus' 'ave ta try hard enough, lovey."

And oh my God.... I would.

This scenario also applicable for Soap, Gaz, Price, Keegan, and König. 😭

How do you think the secret baby trope would go with Nik or Price? Maybe reader either never got a number or a name. Maybe she was worried about being asked to get rid it and so she just kept it a secret and let the man leave cause he was just passing through

With Nikolai like. We don’t even know his last name. He probably didn’t even tell you his first name. If he did, it was just “Nik”. And of course, that meant no number. He has a rather… irregular schedule. Not the most conducive for a relationship, and he doesn’t care to lead women on. Maybe he even meets you on a visit to England — so it checks out that he wouldn’t see you until he was in the same area. (And he can’t just visit England without going to Tisbury to load up on fudge to bring home).

So when he sees you with a baby, one with inky black hair and the same nose as you, he’s obviously a little taken aback. But as harsh as it sounds, he was raised to believe that real men remember their bastards. So of course he’s not letting you get away when your eyes catch his in recognition. Besides… as much as he loves it on Price, he doesn’t want his baby to grow up and have a British accent. C’mon.

With Price— I think it’s you who let him go. Why burden a man with fatherhood over a one night stand on his military leave? It’s your choice to keep the baby, you don’t think to trouble him with it. To make him feel like he has to say. To be honest… you wouldn’t mind him as the father. But you can’t stand to see him start to hate you for saddling him with the job.

Of course, when Price finds out about this, he’s just gathering it as evidence that you need him. You’re so silly, trying to do this all on your own when there’s a capable man here who’s basically gagging for the chance. By the way— it’s one of his men that rats you out. Points and says hey, ain’t that the bird you shagged when we were at that pub in Teffont? Very classy.

Thinking abt the secret baby trope with gaz

You’re crouched in the grocery store, inspecting and comparing a few items on the lower shelves (why does there need to be a banana, a vanilla, and a banana & vanilla flavor of these baby puff snacks?) while your baby is sitting up in the cart. She’s an angel— never cries or throws tantrums at the store, just sits patiently with her little pint of blueberries. You’ll pay for the empty plastic container with everything else.

Gaz spots her first. Deep brown eyes staring into his soul from down the aisle. She stops looking at him only to get another blueberry— excellent pincer grasp for her age. He loves seeing babies out in public, and this is an exceptionally cute baby.

So of course he tries to make her smile. Makes some silly faces, he’ll be the first to admit. Sticks his tongue out, scrunches his nose. She bursts into a little fit of laughter, the gurgly kind that babies do— and it makes you stand up to check on her.

And you meet his eyes. The same eyes your baby has. And he meets yours. The girl he met on leave— must’ve been a year or two ago.

Oh.

Suggestive themes! 18+ only!

Something something lumberjack!Simon being absolutely feral for you after a fight where he says something stupid and you slap him without thought.

You’re never violent. Have never raised your voice at him, or at anyone for that matter. You never cuss, never instigate, you’re polite. But him smarting off without thought and having you open-palm slap him across the face drove him insane. He barely felt it, barely registered it. But the thought of you being violent, that you did it because you felt something so strongly in regards to him, had him rock hard and absolutely foaming at the mouth.

Your eyes widen and you instantly start to apologize, but his mouth slanted across yours seconds later and it had the apology halting in the back of your throat. You’re putty in his hands, which is good because he’s pawing at your hips and ass while walking you backwards to press up against the hood of his truck.

“So fuckin’ hard for ya, sweet’eart.” Simon groans against your lips, teeth clashing and tongue sliding against yours in a dirty glide.

“M’sorry, Si. Didn’t mean to.” You’re able to mutter between rough passes of lips and teeth, but he’s just shaking his head as he wraps both hands around your hips to lift you onto the hood.

“Nothin’ t’be sorry for, lovie. S’my fault anyways.”he replies on a breath, slotting himself between your spread thighs and dragging his hands up your back to tangle in your hair. He’s using one hand to hold your neck while the other is tugging your hair back to arch your neck and jaw for his rough ministrations.

“M’not violent though. S’not right of me.” You try again, panting and sighing deep in your chest as his stubbled cheeks scratch at your skin while he sucks hickies and bite marks into the delicate skin of your throat and shoulder.

“Hot as fuck is wha’ it is.” Simon retorts, using the excuse of removing his mouth to talk to bite a little too hard into the meat of your collarbone.

“Fuck, Simon. Too hard.” But your hips are still rocking against his body where your legs are wrapped around his broad frame.

“Sorry, sweet’eart. My bad.” But he’s grinning mischievously, not really sorry at all.

You roll your eyes and laugh, wrapping your own hand around the back of his neck to bring him back in for another kiss and another taste.

so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?

18+ below! smut smut smut!

ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.

it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.

but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?

all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.

it’s a video.

you sent her a video.

she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.

“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”

holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.

you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”

and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.

and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.

as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”

ellie. ellie ellie ellie.

“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.

when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.

“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.

when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.

and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.

smut! 18+ below, minors dni.

thinking about ellie accidentally sending you a video of her fingering herself.

the video preview is completely dark, so you have no clue what to expect when you click the play button. you assume it’s another one of her rants - lately she’s taken to sending you clips of herself complaining about her family, work, politics. she’s sent a few videos of her trying new foods while completely obliterated on an edible, too, which you’re kind of hoping for. her eyes look so pretty all droopy and red, and she has the cutest laugh when she’s high.

but oh, no. this is… nothing like that.

you’re lounging in bed, head propped up against a pillow, when you get the notification from ellie and click to your text thread. you hit play on the video, watching with a furrowed brow as the camera moves from darkness - the forest green fabric of ellie’s duvet, you realize - to reveal her room. and it’s a familiar sight; you’ve been there a hundred times. but that’s where the familiarity ends.

because this new camera angle shows ellie naked from the waist down.

she’s flushed, her cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink. her chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm; the light catches on a smear of wetness on her inner thigh, and you realize with a flutter in your belly that she’d been going at it for a while before she’d pulled out the camera.

“okay, fuck,” ellie pants, her voice a bit tinny through the speakers of your cell phone. she lifts one muscled thigh to her bed, which she’s standing before - right in front of the camera. your mouth goes dry as your eyes flicker over her body: heather grey tank riding up her toned hips, the faintest sheen of sweat on her chest, her thigh flexing as she spreads herself in front of the camera.

“i got close beforehand so i wouldn’t… didn’t wanna be nervous,” she says, avoiding eye contact with her phone. “but i’m - wait. why the fuck am i talking? you’re not supposed to talk in these, are you?”

blood rushes into your cheeks, warming your face until you feel like your skin is about to burn off. you should probably stop watching, shouldn’t you? you should click out of the video, pretend you never opened it in the first place. this is clearly not for you to see.

but you can’t look away.

ellie reaches her hand between her legs, and your stomach warms with arousal. there’s a flutter between your legs that leaves you squeezing your thighs together, seeking pressure.

“oh god,” ellie mutters as her fingers play in her own pussy, the lewd, wet sounds echoing. she slips a finger inside of herself, then two, her eyes fluttering shut as a string of curses leaves her lips.

she starts to pump her fingers, the heel of her hand pressed to her clit, and your breath catches in your throat when she looks up at the camera. you know she’s not really looking at you this way, but you tense up regardless. the look in her eyes is sultry, lustful, hungry.

there’s a growing damp spot on your underwear.

ellie’s getting close; her brows are pinched together in concentration, and each of her moans is more ragged and high-pitched than the last. beneath the thin fabric of her tank, you see her abs tense with her impending orgasm. you bite your lip until you’re sure you taste blood.

she comes with a shuddering cry, bicep flexing as her hand stalls between her legs. strands of auburn hair, darkened with sweat, cling to her freckled forehead. she lowers her leg from the bed and stands upright again, still panting. she reaches for the camera and the video ends.

you’re still staring wide-eyed at your phone when a series of texts come through from ellie.

oh my god

please tell me you didn’t see that

holy fuck i’m an idiot

i’m so sorry

i did not mean to send that to you. holy shit i’m sorry

your chest tightens with sympathy - you can imagine how panicked ellie is on the other line, how utterly ruined her post-orgasm bliss must be.

you type out a quick response: it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

finding a convenient place to prop up your phone, you hook your thumbs over your underwear and tug them off, leaning forward to press record on your phone.

read part two here!

mdni ꨄ︎

loser!ellie who your friends doubted when you gave the geek a chance, thinking she wouldn't have any game or wouldn't even have the balls to try anything.

you could never prove them wrong, because you'd have to tell them how good she gives it to you when fucking you with her tongue "love th-this... pussy..." she hums way too often.

how good she hits it when she easily slides 2 fingers in and out your greedy pussy, stretching you out, with whimpers of her own whenever she feels you clench around her "a-ahh baby, gon need my fingers later, you know?"

how she surprises you too, pulling out a pink strap she spent weeks online browsing for and slurring "wanted to uhh... fill your pussy, babe, you want it?" and how you end up with your leg being held up and ellie's dick stuffing you to the brim.

and of course you'd never tell how loud she makes you. and dumb. when you get a good grade as a result of her awesome tutoring she has to reward you. "my baby's so smart, huh?" not anymore...

ellie's so fucking in love, she loves when your pussy lips kiss hers, she creams on you everytime. you've never had someone so obsessed with your pussy that they draw it on their sketchbook before. you're obsessed with hers too and she tastes good.

I’ve made a diagram

Some biker Ghost for nat and pirate ghoap for Tree! Thanks so much 🏍️☠️

(+ period ghoap for me...)

Anyways, being fucked nasty in the back of Gaz's car after a date. Pulled off into some unlit, unpopulated parking lot so he can have the back door open while he rails you into the seats. Clawing at the upholstery of the car as he fucks you, each thrust inching you up just a little only be pulled back down by his iron grip on you. Flipping you around so he can lean over you and bring you in for a kiss and tell you how good you're doing good for him while your pussy clenches down around his thick cock.

simon riley pisses on your leg when you shower together and he either does it and has a smug little grin when you turn around with a blank stare (unamused but also unbothered, used to his antics by now) or he’s standing super close, one hand on the back of your neck to force very direct eye contact, and the other holding his dick to your thigh… he might even aim the stream just below your belly button

he's marking his territory. he's probably ticked off because some asshole smiled at you when you were out running errands and you didn't immediately snap at him that you already had a man.

thinks it's funny when you squirm and try to pull away because it's gross, you say. that's the point. he's gonna get it through your thick skull that if you're gonna entertain men by being cutesy and flashing your pretty smile at them then you have to deal with the consequences.

Care for a tiny taste of some boot worship on this fine saturady evening?

Rundown

Babysitter reader accidentally falling asleep in Price’s bed only to wake up to a big man crawling up behind her and shoving her legs apart while murmuring his wife’s name :\\ too bad she can’t correct him because the pillow keeps muffling her screams. - prompt by ceilidho

Warning: dubcon/noncon themes (reader doesn't verbally agree to sex but has wanted to fuck John secretly), somno kink, dirty talk, drunk! Price, implied age gap, babysitter! Reader, Wife is named, cheating, p in v sex, no protection, John's a nasty dog, Price is sloshed and can barely hold off his orgasm

Did i write this instead of sleeping? Yes. Do I have regrets? Many. I just couldn't stop thinking about this and knew I had to atleast try my hand.

Reblogs, likes and comments are much appreciated! This may be edited when I am no longer sleep deprived

You've been babysitting for the price family for almost a month now. A small bundle of joy surprisingly docile in your arms after the wailinig for the baby boy would have cradled in her embrace. You hated the glare Colleen would snap your way as soon as her son shushed. You weren't sure why, at first you chalked it up to coincidence. Just the baby being well- a baby. But then you let yourself linger in her presence and found yourself curling away from the sting in your nostrils from the strength of her perfume. A lovely brand you had no way to afford, truely she was a woman to envy. Even in her years she's aged like wine; Rosé to be exact. She was primped and refined. A polished diamond with every sharp edge pointed in your direction. The many necklaces she adorned on her neck were chunky and sparkled with real gems that surely John has gifted to her over their marriage. Though, it made an uncomfortable resting spot for the babe.

But little James had much to protest about the way his mother's nails were too long and dug into his soft skin. To cry and scream when her perfume was just too much. When her makeup smeared against his chubby cheek and the new texture roused him into another fit. Only soothed once back in the arms clad in soft cardigans and sweaters, the smell of gentle floral soap and smooth skin against his own.

You've heard Colleen before bark at John to find a new sitter making small comments about how her baby clearly hates her. How neither of the men in her life seem to want her presence always resulting in a heavy sigh from John, firm words of curt comfort but she'd just bare her teeth and curl her painted lips. Not taking his words as anything more than another spew of thoughtless support. Not stopping her cries of woe until John has enough and grit words of defence through his grinding teeth.

You tried not to listen in; it wasn't your business after all but you couldn't help but feel pity. Some days it was for Colleen, clearly stressed and trying to latch onto something she can't quite grasp. But other days you felt a deep pity for John; peering in with little James bouncing in your hold as he sat at the dining room table with his head in his hands. Shoulders sagging down with the weight of the world digging into them.

Poor little James having to hear all this. Often, you tried to keep him distracted with the jingle of your keys or read out of a storybook to drown out their thunderous voices.

There's been a time Johns found you like that, huddled up by the crib shushing and slowly rocking the baby to sleep. A storybook in your lap and a relieved slumped as you stare at James' sleeping face. And so, to avoid waking up his son, he'd get close to your ear, ruffling your hair and giving your shoulder a firm squeeze as he muttered, 'Good girl. Such a sweet girl for keeping him happy' and 'sorry you had to hear all that, love' as he insisted on slipping you another small stack of pound notes for the extra stress. No matter how many times you've tried to decline.

Just as many times you've tried to convince yourself you didn't touch yourself that night because of his words. You definitely didn't imagine him mumbling sweet nothing's of how good you are, so perfect and sweet for him. He was a married man, for God's sake!

A soon-to-be divorced one if things continued to persist the way they were.

You didn't dare let these feelings show; for fear of losing your job and the possible disdain that would cloud over his aged features that you'd have the audacity to think of him that way. Unable to bring yourself to even consider baring the thought of his disapproval. It was too much. It made your stomach twist in ways stressful university exams never did.

-- -- --

RIIIIING

You rose from your afternoon nap, a startled sound ripped from your throat. textbook and laptop discarded clumsily at the table. The sofa creaking as you pulled yourself up, eyes squinting as you tried to find your phone in the darkness. Eyes already aching from staring at your laptop screen for hours even when it grew dark. Took engrossed in finishing your assignment to care that you were in pitch black. Only napping to soothe the sting.

You plucked your phone from the floor and saw it was Colleen calling you. Your eyes widened as you hastily answered. "Mrs Price! Is everything okay?"

"I need you to come over as soon as possible, Im already running late to meet with the girls and I need someone to watch James."

Your brows pinched in confusion. Checking the time and saw it was 10 o'clock. Surely there had to be someone more local.

"where's John-?"

"being useless as always, drinking and leaving me to do all his shit for him."

Your eyes practically bulged out of your skull; sure you've heard her be nasty but this was the first time you've ever heard her be so brazen with her dislike for her husband. Her voice oozing with venomous spit as each word punched out from her throat.

You thought it would be for the best not to say anything. Swallowing what words of defence you had for John, you slid off your couch. "I'll- uh- I'll be on my way."

You slipped on your shoes and your warmest coat, thankful your keys already sat in its pocket. You rushed out of your door, having to cycle your way over. Usually you'd catch the bus and then cycle the rest of the way but night buses weren't running where you needed to go.

Never have you peddled so quickly. Your legs were on fire by the time you arrived and Colleen was hissing at you as she scurried out the door for how late you were making her. Muttering the whole time she got in her car and was driving off into the night. You stumbled into the house and immediately went upstairs to check on James and thankfully he was still sleeping.

Hours you spent waiting for John to return home or even Collen. Anyone to bid you off so you could go back home and sink into the plush of your bed. Sleeping on the sofa and then all that peddling has strung your body until you were nothing but knots. Sitting down almost the entire time as your legs protested to any further usage.

You only went into the bedroom to grab the spare baby monitor to check if it was still working, but you got nosey. Peeking around and finding colleens vanity, staring at the unflattering reflection. Your hair was a mess, and your clothes were screwed on your body. You could smell your sweat and it wasn't even hot. With great hesitance, you picked and sniffed at the collection of perfume that sat there. All were much too strong for your tastes until you found a bottle tucked into the very corner. It looked like it hadn't been touched for a while, not even half empty, but it wasn't old. The brand's logo was chipped at the edges, and the bottle was sealed the wrong way. You couldn't resist giving it a small sniff and were pleasantly surprised to find such a kind smell. It was vanilla and rose water; with a small bit to your lip and against all your better judgment. You sprayed a shy spritz on your neck and dabbed it into either side. Already feeling like a grander woman.

But your curiosity died as the king-sized bed seemed to be calling your name. Sheets are neatly folded, and pillows are fluffed. With James back asleep after some fuss and a diaper change you slinked into the covers with mumbled apologies.

Sleep claiming you faster than you ever expected, slumped heavily against the mattress as your nose was filled with John's scent. A heady mix of both his natural order and the shampoo he used. Your nose sinking into the pillow even in your dreams as you inhaled deeply. Happy hums filling the empty room before soft snores took their place.

-- -- --

John on the other hand was not so lovingly dozed off. He wasn't partying with friends and running his mouth about all his stresses. No he was haggard as he just barely pulled himself away from the sticky counter. The bartender muttering something along the lines of him getting back to the misses.

His misses.

He was nothing but a stubborn bastard. That was his ring on her finger and he couldn't swallow the uncomfortable bitter pill that was his reality. He's been finding his ring 'mistakenly' left on the bathroom counter. She was already bringing up divorce whenever he glared at her a second too long.

He couldn't have it. What kind of man would he be if he stood by and let her go prancing off. That was his wife. His.

His fist hit the counter with a determined sneer and he shoved himself away. Wobbling for a moment before he was able to muster his legs into a familiar march. His footsteps were unsteady but persistent in their journey. The bar was within walking distance and what was a little fresh air to help sober him up so he can face his woman how he should. Steel in his composure and fire burning in his eyes as he was going to-

To-

Fuck. There are so many things he's been wanting to do. It's been too long. Much too long without being in between her legs. The heat of a welcoming cunt was now foreign as he had to rub himself with the rough callouses of his hand. No amount of spit could replace the heavenly slick of a woman's arousal. Didn't sound the same when he fucked his fist. Didn't smell the same. Didn't feel the same.

She was truly a cruel woman. He could withstand her sneers and moaning, but to deprive him of the luxury of a husband was the devil's work. His own personal torment after so many years of bloodshed and muddled honors.

Perhaps if that walk was as sobering as he told himself it was, he would have noticed the car that was missing. The bike parked in its place. The tranquil quite of his home shattered, 2 am in the morning, as he heaved himself through the door and winced at the thud of the door. Pausing to hear any cries of his son or the pissed off yell of disappointment but he was met with nothing.

He lumbered through his house after kicking off his boots. His coat was thrown somewhere in the darkness as he crept up the stairs and shuffled into his bedroom. There, he saw the lump of a figure in his bed, and his brain clicked into gear. Licking his dry lips, he dusted his hands off his jeans, already undoing his belt as he stepped out of the fabric as soon as it pooled down to his ankles. Crawling onto the bed as he stared at the sleeping miss in his bed, eyes beyond blurred and too blinded by his determination, maybe he would have noticed the obvious differences between you and his wife.

He presses sloppy open mouth kisses to your shoulder. "Col- Colly, He slurred out as each kiss grew higher and higher. The untrimmed scruff of his mutton chops scratching against your cheek ear as he babbled in gruff murmurs. "Wake up, honey."

But he had no patience for his 'wife' to rise from her slumber. Your stirring only egged him on as he caged your slumbering body in with hands on either side of your shoulders. Moving the blanket down to reveal your covered form. He huffed in disapproval. "Tuckered out? Didn't even undress." He scolded but there was no heat to his words as he began to undo the buttons of your jeans and eased them down your legs. Shifting your shirt as high as he could before grunting as your unconscious form was no help.

"this why..you need me." His chest pressed heavily down onto your back as his large hands wandered along your curves. Pinching at the chub he didn't remember Colleen having but it's been so long he just dismissed it. "Keep ya nice and warm."

John couldn't wait any longer. Pushing your underwear to the side and his fingers curled against the fabric as he rutted against your silky folds through the fabric of his briefs. Like a dog in heat his hips grinded hard against your sex. His nose burying in your neck as he huffed the smell of perfume - he got her that for their anniversary. He knew she was still missing him. All that bullshit of insisting she'd never wear one of his gifts again. Throwing out jewelry that was now deemed tacky, all because he bought it, and clothes she just shunned as old news.

With a growl he yanked his boxers down as he grabbed his already half hard cock. Rubbing it through your glistening sex, already so wet for him. Perfect little wife. He didn't take long for him to chub to full mass as he huffed at the floral scent on your neck. "Gonna fix it- gonna fix everything-"

As soon as his cock pressed into your entrance you were startled awake. The sudden sting making your eyes pry open. Your breathing hitched as you heard John's voice mumbling something into your skin as you opened your mouth but he just shushed you. "None of that. Don't start, just need you tonight." He presses his hips frimer to your ass as the fat head of his cock speared your cunt. He groaned deeply with a curse knocked out of him. "So fucking tight-"

Your cheeks burned as you tried to squirm away from the blistering heat of your poor fluttering walls being pried apart by his sheer girth. Gasping into the pillow. With a huff John yanked you further down with a sharp tug on your underwear, his free hand pressing down on the back of your neck to keep you nice and arched. Any words you tried to squeak out immediately muffled.

"that's it, just open up for me, Coll." He cooed, the stretch of alcohol thick on his breath as he squeezed your neck. Feeling the way your pussy betrayed you, crying all over his big dick as you heard each grunt and groan rattle in your ears. Just able to hear it over the sound of your own heart thumping so loudly you thought for a moment it lodged itself into your skull. "Atta girl."

As soon as your ass was flush to his pelvis you let out a whimper. Clutching at the bedding your eyes squeezed shut. The pain faded into a dull numbness before the tug of a vein rubbing against your walls had you softly moaning. So full. You could barely breathe with how far it was pressed to your stomach. Surely shoving your organs up and lodging them into your throat. A knot tight in it as your eyes fluttered open.

Unable a moment to breathe as he guided you back onto his cock with every thrust that sent you jolting forward. The stitches of your underwear screamed as he set his pace. sloppy but reaching deep within. Kissing your cervix with each thrust as you trembled. Blinking you didn't even notice the tears that poured down your heated cheeks as you kept shaking your head. Any attempt of protest cut off by your own traitorous moan.

Fuck it feels good. Why must if feel so good. You've imagined what his cock would feel like but you never imagined this. Never thought you'd actually be feel it drill into your poor cunt as you sniffled and sobbed.

John could barely restrain himself. When did her pussy ever feel this good? So tight and clamping down on his cock as if it were the first time. Has it really been so long that her body became as foreign to him as it he was to her. That made his teeth grit as he panted. "Shit- gonna- fuuck-"

He didn't need to say if for you to know. Your stomach clenched as your thighs tried to squeeze tight together like that would stop anything. Not with his thick thighs spreading your legs wide and welcoming for him. "J-John-" you hiccuped.

Voice so strained it became high pitched. Needy. It made his head spin or maybe that was just the alcohol catching up to him. Groaning deep from within his chest as he flooded your tight hole with hot ropes of cum. Rolling his hips lazily with each squirt. "Sorry...been too long-" he kissed your shoulder and your cheek. "You feel like heaven, love."

But John was never a selfish lover. He let go of your underwear as he remained snugly slotted into your warmth. Relishing in its slick heat. Thick fingers finding your clit with startling ease as he rubbed in circles. Fast and his rhythm broken but with how your clit was already throbbing needily it didn't deter your body from singing out. Hands clawing at the pillow your face was buried against as you bucked into the friction. Shaking your head as you tried to fight off how good it felt.

Whines spilling out of you as you chanted pleas and curses but it all fell on deaf ears. "Ohh- oh!" You pulsed around him as your own orgasm tightened in your lower belly. No matter how much you tried to deter it, John was insistent of your pleasure.

"c'mon on, Coll, make a mess on my cock." He cooed as he pressed more of his weight down into your back to keep you from squirming too much. "Know you miss it."

You cried out as it crashed over you. Stars filling your already blurry vision as stray droplets of tears fell down. The cover of the pillow damp with your tears and specks of drool you desperately tried to swallow down.

Both of you just laying there for awhile. You were stiff as a rock and he was slowly rolling his hips. Fucking his cum deeper into you with more kisses to your sticky skin. His hand weaving up to your hair as he tugged your head from the pillow. Blinking sluggishly as he expected to be greeted with the face of his wife but instead he was met with his babysitter. Cheeks streaked with tears and your lips parted with a small gloss of drool. Sniffling as your eyes latched to his dumb stare. Just looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

"you're not my wife."

'accidental baby daddy soap mactavish' aka the worst man in the world to accidentally knock you up after fucking casually a couple times. there's no such thing as personal space or boundaries or distanced co-parenting with him; he already broke his lease / sold his house. shows up on your doorstep with all his belongings in the world. you wouldn't let the bairn's dad sleep rough, would you? no, the couch won't do, doe, he needs a tempur pedic bed or his sciatica will act up. knocked him flat on his ass last time it flared up, so just let him in the bed. if you're cold, they're cold 'n all that shit.

“you are on the couch tonight, riley!” you shout, pointing a finger toward the living room. simon stands there, his jaw clenched, hands clenched at his sides, clearly unhappy but resigned.

there’s a flicker of hurt in his eyes, masked quickly with his usual steely glare. he just nods, not saying a word, as he grabs a blanket from the closet and settles down on the couch without another look your way.

the apartment feels colder without him by your side, and the silence that follows is louder than any argument. you lie in bed, your head turned to the wall, arms crossed tightly as if that could keep out the ache creeping in.

you feel miserable, thinking over the fight, wondering if you were too harsh, if maybe he wasn’t entirely in the wrong. but you bury it, refusing to let yourself soften too quickly. this isn’t the first time you two have fought; being with simon means loving him as he is, stubbornness and all.

but tonight, it feels different. minutes stretch into hours, and you find yourself glancing at the empty side of the bed, missing his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his breathing. you turn over again, clutching the pillow tighter, but it doesn’t help.

meanwhile, simon’s on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes, a sigh slipping out into the darkened room. his mind replays the fight in quiet fragments, the words that had been said, your voice still ringing in his ears.

he knows he messed up, though he’d never admit it to anyone but himself. he misses you too, even if pride keeps him rooted to the couch, where the cushions dig into his back, and sleep refuses to come.

after another endless stretch, you finally can’t take it anymore. you get up, padding softly into the living room. simon’s form is a dark silhouette against the dim light from the window, his breathing shallow, not quite asleep. he hears you but doesn’t move, as if afraid to let hope show too early.

“simon…” your voice is quiet. you see his shoulders tense before he slowly drops his arm from his eyes, looking up at you. his gaze is guarded, but there’s an unmistakable softness there, a glint of something like regret.

“can’t sleep either, huh?” he mutters, breaking the silence, his voice rough from the hours of silence.

you shake your head, and without another word, he shifts to make space. you sit beside him and lean against him, letting your head rest on his shoulder, and after a beat, his arm wraps around you, pulling you closer.

“i’m sorry baby,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper.

“me too,” you murmur, feeling the tension melt away as he holds you tighter.

neither of you says anything more. words don’t matter as much now, not when the warmth of his arm around you feels like coming home.

------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

when I was younger I didn’t understand why “may you live in interesting times” was considered a curse in ancient greece.

I get it now.

warnings: groping, oral (sevika recieving), bottom sevika, one slap on the ass, cum sharing?, im not proof reading anything ever

"hey, you," you mutter against sevikas neck, sliding up behind her where she finishes putting some dishes away.

"me doing your dishes wasnt enough for you?" she asks, though you can hear the small smile in her voice as she leaned back into your hold around her, enjoying the small kisses to her neck.

"i cant simply want to thank my woman?" you cant help yourself as your hands find and gently knead her tits through her wife-pleaser.

"mmh... you usually want something from me, baby."

"its hard not to."

with a final squeeze you let go, running your hands down the expanse of her strong stomach, humming with appreciation before they find her hips to pull them back against you, your own grinding against her ass.

sevikas hand reached back to cradle your neck, brushing her warm fingers against your hairline.

"you gonna let me kiss you? or are you still on a strike?" you ask her as you inch in, the warmth of her breath mingling in with yours. of course she scoffs a little.

"maybe brush your teeth sometimes," she mutters half-heartedly against your lips before pressing a lingering kiss onto them.

you stood on your toes to reach her with your tender kisses, softly licking into her mouth and swallowing up her sighs as your hands wandered over her impressive physique. unashamedly you reached down to grab her ass, her mouth opening against yours with a ragged breath as you squeezed.

"you're so beautiful," you cant help but whisper into her mouth while you reach around her to work off her belt.

"come on..." she complains quietly, though she helps detach the straps around her waist, turning her face away from you to watch your nimble hands work her pants off.

"i mean it, sevika."

you kiss down the nape of her neck, touching your lips to where her bone had began to protrude after countless nights of hanging over her work, while your hand squirmed its way into her pants to cup her pussy through damp fabric.

"handsome, then..." you re-work your wording, fondling her. sevika was so easy to rile up, be it anger or arousal, it took next to nothing to get her going and satisfied.

nudging her forward she bent over, her forearm resting on the counter, her head onto her arm again. your hand stayed nestled in her pants, wetting themselves on her, as your hips ground forward, pushing small sounds out of the woman.

her back was something to be deeply admired as her muscles worked to keep her upright and grinding back against your movements. your free hand tracing over her back, you couldnt help but groan, landing a small slap to her ass while removing your hand from between her legs.

sevika glanced over her shoulder at you, a small harmless glare situated on her face. she shook her head and looked back down onto her arm on the counter as you pulled her pants down over her hips, laughing at her reaction.

"you slap my ass all the time, dont be a kill-joy."

she only grumbles at you while you continue your fondling of her, pushing your fingers and palm into her soft flesh as you practically make out with her shoulder, licking and sucking onto her dark skin.

the wet kisses moved back to her neck as your hands moved back to her tits, pushing her shirt up to get a proper feel of her. sevika pushed herself up slightly with her hand placed firmly on the counter, moaning so softly she might just not have been at all.

"fuck, youre hot," you groan into her skin, not able to help yourself. "just want to devour you."

her head bobbed at the suggestion, you just barely glimpting her lip catching between her teeth at your handling of her, you didnt treat her like this often enough.

it didnt take long for you to crouch down behind her to sink your teeth into the thickness of her ass, delighting in her low whine at the action, at her hips pushing back against you to urge you on.

it took even less for you to bury your face into her cunt, lapping up her tangy taste. god was it good, you moaned into her wetness while she widened her stance to get you deeper, moans tumbling out through her dark lips.

licking into her, your tongue pressed flat from her thrumming clit to her weeping hole, you hummed, pressing your hands into her cheeks to pull them further apart.

you moaned into her at her taste, sevikas own sounds almost drowning out around you, her whimpers as she gripped onto what she could while you licked at her pussy just about dissipating in your desire.

"make me cum, doll, make me cum," she groaned above you, more to herself than you if you were both being honest, her hips grinding greedily into your face to earn her more pleasure.

"oh fuck-" she whimpered, biting into her arm. your own arms wrapped around thick thighs as you ate out her poor cunt as if you depended on it. you moaned too, couldnt help yourself with the heat gathering between your legs, making you shift where you kneeled behind her.

you pressed your tongue into her, fucking her with it, one of your hands moving up to thumb at her hardened clit, rubbing slow torturous circles into it. all sevika could do was twitch against your hold, to push into you, to fuck herself on your tongue. her back arched with each whine that left her, hungrily humping your face.

you couldnt help humming into her pussy, moving back down to lick at her clit, sucking it into your mouth as she tried to starve off her moans by hiding against her arm. your nose pressed so closely against her you couldnt breathe without sevika filling you.

her humping became short and unmeasured, her hand pushing against the wall to help her grind back onto you. a sweet desperate whine left her as every part of her tightened, her pussy clenching on your tongue, pussy gushing onto your face. you licked her through it, as her hips twitched and her breath came out in small gasps following whiny groans and pleas for more and yes and god right there please.

you wouldve talked, ran your mouth and told her every filthy thing on your mind, that she was a slut, greedy, helpess with your mouth on her, that no one would treat her or eat her out the way you would, but youd rather die than pull away from her perfect cunt.

some things could only be imagined, as her mouth surely hung open, her brows furrowed, and her eyes slipped closed in her headless pleasure. fuck she wanted you inside her, wanted you to stuff her full until she cried, but she knew you, and knew within the hour she would be weeping on whatever you decided would fit her that night.

even once she was done you took to peppering kisses over her, from her clit to her hole to her bush and thinghs and ass. all of it. it was obscene the way you couldnt keep your tongue and mouth off her while she caught her breath.

"so fucking good," you murmured into the fat of her ass, licking a bite you had just left on her still twitching muscle.

"so perfect, so good... fuck youre good," you kept going, unable to stop yourself from just repeating it. because truly she was so perfect and oh so good, especially against your tongue, and especially with her wanton thrusts against it.

you stood up to bend over her back, grabbing her jaw to force her lips onto your cum covered ones. it was sevikas favourite part, it had to be, when you smeared her cum onto her lips, making her taste herself on your wild tongue.

sevikas brows furrowed while you licked into her again and again, her own tongue helping to suck onto yours, easily removing her taste from you to greedily have it for herself.

"take me to bed..." she murmured against your wet lips.

you book one of those fancy, exclusive cruises, and on day four, you confront the man in the cabin next door. he smokes day and night on his balcony, puffing some disgusting-smelling cigars. even with the door shut, the scent seeps in, clinging to the bedding and settling into your clothes.

when he opens the door, your head dips back to meet his gaze. he's weathered and intense, the kind of tired that seems permanently carved into his face. eyes that look like they've forgotten how to soften or blink at a normal interval. he leans a thick arm on the frame, shirt hanging open enough to reveal a dense patch of chest hair, and a faded heart tattoo with some woman's name scrawled on the ribbon curling around it. you can't help but notice a pale tan line on his ring finger where a wedding band ought to be.

and it's cute how you put your foot down. asking him to take his nasty habit to the deck. you're polite but obviously frustrated. annoyed. you're mid-sentence when he interrupts, lip curling in a sly smile that, until recently, has always worked.

"let me make it up to you. smuggled a decent bottle onboard. help me finish it?"

he must still have it because the offer catches you off guard, your irritation softening before you can stop it. not twenty minutes later, with the sun dipping low over the water, he's got you on the balcony, his cigar at your lips, teaching you how to take it.

Childhood best friend!Soap who becomes your friends with benefits because you said you weren’t looking for a relationship and he’s convinced that every time he makes you cry on his dick from how good it is that he gets a little closer to making you fall in love with him

And then, when you’re laying with him and cuddling afterwards one night, you tell him that you’re not sure how much longer this is gonna go on— that you met someone recently at pub. And you really like him. His heart starts to pound. He thought you weren’t looking for a relationship— this isn’t fair—

It’s someone wearing a black surgical mask who had dark eyes, like a shark’s eyes. Deep voice and a Manchester accent. Broody, you call him.

(simon riley x f!reader, same rank!)

violence, cod inaccuracies, reader is a badass

simon riley never calls you baby

until he does.

you tell him it has to stay hidden. you can't be known as "the girl fucking the lieutenant", no matter if you're the same rank as him, the same sweat and tears put into the job. it scares you, the thought of losing decades of hard work over some stupid fling with a man they call ghost. a man who brings you tea on your sick days, a man with soft eyes and a listening ear, the only man who's ever brought you to orgasm. the push and pull of your autonomy and your love is ever growing, that bone deep fear rooted in your marrow.

simon's scared too. scared of waking up and it's all a dream. scared that his enemies will find out, scared that it'll show he isn't so dead after all. he's been a rotting thing on earth for nearly four decades and he's comfortable with it; no matter how alive you make him feel. his hand on your waist feels right, but he can't bring his heart into the light.

so you call each other "lieutenant." maybe "riley" when he pisses you off, just to get under his skin. "dove" is rare, but it warms you up just the same, gives you an unbidden vision of hot chocolate and snow days. mainly its "l.t.", remnant of johnny, the respect and friendliness woven together sweetly. you murmured "babe" to him once, in the early morning when he sneaks out, and felt his shoulders bunch, the weight of it too much to bear. that was the end of pet names, or so you thought.

--

it's a foggy day on what becomes the worst night of your life. the mission is at a standstill, the intel outdated. you were supposed to be taking out a terrorist organization, blowing up the base of their operations, but instead the building is damp and abandoned, echoes of life the only sign they were here. price is in your ear, telling you to clear one last room and retreat, simon already on his way out. you nudge your way into the room with caution, years of practiced steps coming to you on instinct. for some reason, you don't catch the glint of a stranger's eye in a hidden corner. you don't see the rope in his hands, the knife between his teeth. the next thing you see is the floor, fog seeping over concrete as rough hands gag you and mutter promises of ungodly harm.

something's wrong. "price." simon murmurs soft and low, crossing out of the building to the tree cover below. "where is she? s'pposed t' be out by now." he's scanning the building through his scope, looking for that figure he knows so well, could find blind. "copy. 'er tracker says she's still in the buildin'. let's-" there's a piercing scream in the air. the ravens take flight from the trees. dark wings, dark words. "ghost-" "goin' in." a sigh on the other end. he can practically feel price's hesistancy but he doesn't care, heavy feet already moving back into the building. "you're goin' in blind, radar's jus' gone out." he swears under his breath, clearing hallway after hallway as the building falls back into silence. just as he comes upon a 4-way split, you scream again, the sound far away and to his left. "'m comin' dove, hold on." there's no gunfire, no sounds of fight. it's so eerie he thinks he might have dreamed it, his worst nightmare come true. his instincts lead the way, some knowledge of your location hidden in his blood. pop. finally a gunshot, and if he squints hard, he tries to imagine it being from your weapon. he's close, nostrils expanding at the scent of you, memorized even without your favored perfume.

there were four of them. you still can't believe you missed them, the thought in the back of your head as you fight for your life. scrambling from the rope one tries to force on you, becoming an eel as you slip out of their grasps. this is what you do, what you're trained for. until someone stomps down hard on your ankle, the force of it cracking straight through. you scream, can't help it, searing pain blinding your vision for precious seconds. they take advantage of it, gloved hands tying your own behind your back in a tight knot. you can't reach your comms so you scream again, this one out of frustration, desperation that your team, that simon, might not find you.

the big one shuts you up with a hand to your throat, a bruising grip that leaves you unable to speak. they aren't well trained, fumbling hands and shaky grips, and you're finally able to reach your holster, shooting the first between the eyes before you can even glimpse his face. now you're in your element, adrenaline covering the pain of your ankle as you fight back, shooting one after the other, digging out your knife for close combat. it's over in a blink, the men no match for your skills, and once you double check they're dead, you collapse in the corner, the pain of your ankle roaring. that's when you hear it.

"baby?" it's him (but it can't be). he's never called you that. you pretend not to see when he whispers it into your neck as you feign sleep, when he murmurs it in a grunt as he's deep in your cunt. he's never said it to your face. "baby!" it's definitely him, that gruff voice cutting across the fog. you whine out of frustration, your throat too sore from your attacker to call out. instead, you limp to the door, almost running into simon as he comes crashing into your own personal hell. he sweeps you into his arms and you let him, grabbing his shoulders to make sure he's real.

"y' hurt?" he takes a look around the room, at the carnage in your wake. "my brave girl." you're sobbing, unsure whether its from frustration or relief. still can't believe you got caught, feeling like such a stereotype to have your knight in shining armor rescue you. "handled them all y'rself, hm, baby?" he's all sweetness and it hurts, seeing his eyes swell in pride as he takes in the four dead men, gunshots and a knife sticking out of one's eye. "why- why are you calling me that, simon?" he's ushering you out, your arm around his neck as you limp towards freedom. "proud of you." he says it simply, eyes trained on potential threats, not watching your reaction.

"aye, i told you, gaz. ye owe me a drink." soap's voice crackles through the comms. they were on. which meant your team heard the whole thing, heard simon practically claim you, knew you were together, thought you were a slu- "she's too good for him. i don't believe it." gaz's voice replied. "bugger off." simon grumbled into the mic, the sounds of them snickering loud and clear. "good?" he turned back at you, stopping you before you approached the clearing where your team waited. his eyes told you something different, that he'd walk out of here right now if you wanted. the cock of his head meant he'd follow you anywhere, live off the lamb for decades if you wanted. that was all you needed to know. you nodded and pushed forward. "yeah, i'm good, baby."

--

this is SO CRINGE but it's been in my drafts forever and needed to start paying rent

i will not lie, friends in my phone, i have been imagining affection from time to time

can i say something crazy? cw: piss

simon who has absolutely no respect for his bird's privacy.

comes back home from work; all sweaty and churlish and dour, soot caked on his face and hands, welder boots announcing his arrival in heavy, lazy footsteps. he doesn't call for you, but your gentle hey babe sounds from the bathroom anyway, half-distracted by the videos on your phone. the idea of you coddled at home since he left at dawn that morning — cushioned in bed until late, one hand in a bowl of cherries on ice that still drips condensation over your nightstand, the other pushing a new record for screen time on tiktok, the lengths of your legs all soft, bitten, exposed in set of flimsy shorts, cooled by the fan overhead, all ready evidence to why he puts up with as much shit as he does — drives him a little mad to think about. stokes a hunger in him, a mix of pride and masculinity and possessiveness that has him pushing into the room. despite the fact that his needs aren't urgent, not pressing enough to justify this.

this — standing right before you, so that your manicured toes kiss his leather soles. saying nothing as he unbuckles his belt, gruff, quiet, completely uninterested in addressing your concerns when you look up at him with those squinted eyes. it isn't above simon to make you suck him off while you're on the toilet, and really you wouldn't mind, but you get the sense that isn't what this is when he knocks your legs apart with his knees. little fuss to the action, little reaction to your spread pussy.

his cock bounces out about eye level with you. soft. nonetheless hefty and thick and large, bowing down even as he wraps a rough palm around its base. he can see the revelation find you in real time when he places his free hand on the wall behind you. the cresting arch of your brows. the grimace mangling your cheeks. the prissy pout of your lips. if he weren't so exhausted, he might have it in him to take your face right there. it's just the right combination of horror and fascination to get him going.

"simon noooo," you whine, throwing your phone somewhere, scrambling back until you can't anymore, porcelain tank pressing flush to your back. "just wait your turn. please!"

"'nuff of tha'. shush now." he huffs, chuckling a bit when he realises that you only made things worse for yourself by leaning away. your hips now jut out, cunt propped centre of the bowl.

there's no shyness, no stall on the release. his piss comes out in one, hot stream, washing right on target to hit your little clit. you shake your head, so disgusted with him he knows he'll have to make it up later. still, you do nothing to discourage it, sitting in place like a good pet, only occasionally tensing your legs against the steaming shower. some splashes on your belly, some on your thighs and the rim, yet it's never ending. you wonder if he planned this all day, held in the four cans of san pellegrino you packed for his lunch, just so he could give them back to you.

you just don't realise that not all of it is his.

"sad t'be missin' out on th' fun?" simon mocks, finally pulling away. he shakes the last of it off his cock, swiping a hand over his tip, before tucking himself back in. you blink, look down, and realise that somewhere along the lines, you started peeing too.

and have yet to stop.

"it's natural!" you wail, squeezing your pelvis floor in a last ditch attempt to save your dignity. it's no use. having started, it's near impossible to stop. your necks discovers a new type of heat in the humiliation, burn licking its way up your face. your ears tuck into your shoulder.

"yeah, yeah." he patiently waits for you to finish, cupping a hand under your elbow to keep you upright as you stand on fawn legs. his lips are paper thin, fleeting, when they press fondly to your temple. "now off to th' shower w'ya."

your nose crinkles. "you know you need one more than i do, right?"

"and wha's a shared bath?"

ghost x reader x soap smut | +18/mdni!

making out with soap on simon's dick... like literally on his dick.

fuckin' hell, the two of you have driven the man to a sweating, tense mass of muscle as you snog johnny with wet, swollen lips against simon's leaking tip. the head is a ranging red and shines with a mixture of spit and slick that johnny laps up with a heavy lick before enveloping it with another deep kiss.

simon's mind goes completely numb when you twirl your tongue, snaking it in a long drag to meet soap's. his head rolls back in a lull, only gaining enough consciousness to mumble out a mouthful of groans low curses.

the sounds rock from somewhere low in his chest to mix with wet sounds of you lapping together along his thickness.

"jus' like tha'. good–ah. ah, shit, yeah–good fuckin' pets gettin' my dick nice 'n wet. god, look at you two. can't get enough, huh?"

he grins a little at the desperate shake of the head you send him, pulling back for the tiniest second to suck in a quick breath. the man next to you steals the moment, using your break to sink onto simon, tongue dragging out against the underside as he works his way down.

"stop hogging, johnny," you whine, a soft pout on your face when soap flinches with a wet gag that has simon entire body jerking. ignoring you, johnny continues his warm sucks before a rough pat to his face finally forces him to retreat. he slips off simon with a loud pop to wink at you.

"sorry, hen." soap grins, a grunt leaving him with he smashes your face into his. simon watches with greedy eyes at the way your lips glide together easy, tongues dancing to share the lingering taste of simon's cock. his gaze only darkens when you and johnny part with one last peck. "tastes too good."

simon huffs a little laugh, hand snaking to rest at the back of your neck. he pulls you into a brief kiss, thumb rubbing gently at the skin of your cheek, johnny watching a enamored tilt of his head.

"s'alright, pretty," simon coos. "i'll spank him later for it."

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

Deployment

nsfw

sucking and jerking simon off bcs he is too tired when he comes back from deployment but his dick cant help but be hard. all that time away from you makes him ache.

his head falls into the pillow and he lets out soft grunts and moans, he is half asleep but your soft hand on his big cock makes him stay somehow conscious. your soft kisses on hid jaw and neck make him feel warm, he is too tired to kiss you back, his mouth and tongue are not able to match your pace.

simon cums fast, but he is hard again. and you take good care of him until he cums 2 or 3 times, sometimes 4.

"i'll make it up to you..." he whispers before falling asleep, and he does. next morning, after a good sleep he wakes up ready to show you how much he missed you.

toxic ex bf simon who sends you sweet lil vidzz

your heart perks, before soaring into the depths of your stomach when the soft pad of your thumb hits the light gray button. and the video starts, playing for you like a record on command.

it’s him. simon. but he’s not his usual dark, brood stature of a man. no he’s laid back, hand wrapped around the pretty base of his cock, pinky and ring finger laid over the soft of his balls.

“i want you,” he speaks, muted slightly from the distance he sits from the phone, eyes trained on the camera. “i miss you, baby, please?”

and his begging comes to a close, hand smoothing up the skin of his girthy length, and his chest shudders, muscles contracting as he pleases himself just for you.

and you’re watching in something of awe and disgust. taking in the video, studying him, his body. there’s new gashes, bone noticeable beneath his thick skin. he’s dropped pounds, face looking something of a tired wreck.

“i can’t move on, honey, i need you.” he huffs, voice strained as if he can barely even begin to speak the words. it’s like he’s reeling through the phone at you, hitting you in the heart and between your sweet legs with his fuzzy words.

“fuckin’ miss you so bad, come back to me, cmon, baby,” he’s gasping, thick fingers working their way up and down, up and down his cock in a quick, steady pace.

and when you look closely, you can see the crystaly tears that drip down his cheeks, glinting and sparkling beneath the dim light. it has you reaching into your panties, has your knees shifting together in a race of goosebumps.

“call me, baby, lemme talk to you, promise im different, ill be better for you, sweet girl.” and when you hear the grit of words, your finger swipes, before tapping the lil phone button on the top to send him a call.

we all been here?

In my sights

not friends not lovers but a secret third thing

you will live and you will say the wrong things and make mistakes and people will love you anyways.