Latest Posts by endymi0ns - Page 3

Road-tripping with Dad!141 <3

Warnings: Mentions of snacks/eating, GN reader!

Kyle wakes you up at 5:30 on the dot with a hot travel mug in hand, already filled to the brim with your favorite hot beverage fixed up just the way you like it. This man already has a comfy outfit picked out for you to wear, with a sweatshirt of his own as an option if you get cold. While you go to wake the kids up, he stocks the minivan with their favorite snacks as well as yours and his own, blankets, chargers, plushies, etc. 

     Kyle giggles when he sees the kiddos dressed to match you, happily strapping them into their car seats. He grins and sings along to the cheesy soundtracks they insisted he put on as soon as the wheels hit the main road. He holds your hand when you start to doze off, stealing glances at your peaceful face and the children passed out in the back through the rear view mirror. Definitely enjoys taking the roads with prettier views, even if it takes longer and it means more bathroom stops. 

     Simon is also an early bird, but he’s the one to go get the kids dressed and ready while you sleep in. Once they’re awake and hyper as ever, he lets them wake you up by jumping on the bed and giggling in your ears. With you awake and in a good mood (contrary to if he had been the one to wake you), he gives you a kiss on the forehead and goes to pack up the truck. He peels and cuts all the fruit, cheese and other treats and places them into snack boxes, leaving them out for you to pack into the cooler. Since he does all the "heavy lifting," he leaves you to put the kiddos in their car seats (like he doesn't make giant children).

     Simon is absolutely the CEO of the Dad Grab™. As soon as he hears one of the kiddos opening up their snack box, the cupped hand goes back like second nature. If they dare to complain he gives them the blankest stare in the rear view until they dramatically sigh and place the food in his palm. He prefers to take the quickest route, but if one of his babies begs him to go see the pretty trees, who is he to say no? He makes sure everybody gets a turn to hear their favorite music on the radio. He will also 100% make you feed him even though he has a free hand—he’d just rather keep it planted on your thigh. 

     Johnny refuses to wake up early, not when he’s on leave. He’s big on sleeping in, perfectly content to cuddle you until you’re screeching at him that you’ll all be late. While you’re dressing the kids, he’s brewing coffee for the both of you and munching on a protein bar. The kiddos’ snacks are already in a cooler in the fridge (because you know how your husband is), and the back of the 4Runner is packed with all of the luggage (you made him do it the night before because, again, you know your husband). 

     Johnny insists on being the passenger princess because he’s jus’ so sleepeh, and pouts when you glare at him while all the kids dangle from a different one of your limbs. That look is enough for him to get into gear, helping you get the children into their car seats and plopping into the driver’s side while you settle into the passenger’s seat. Like Kyle, he’s a big fan of singing along to his kids’ favorite songs, albeit more obnoxiously until they (and you) are begging him to take it down a notch. If the children are asleep, he’ll try to cop a feel with only a 50% success rate.  

     John is another early riser, and he likes to wake you up with gentle kisses to your neck and the side of your face. The kids get to sleep in while the two of you prep the snacks and get the truck loaded. He helps you wake and dress the children, getting them settled into their car seats with their favorite toys. He brings earplugs and a neck pillow for you if you want to get some rest, assuring you that the kids will be fine and he’ll wake you if anything happens. 

     John is another Dad Grab™ fiend, tickling the kiddos’ knees until they give in and plop a snack into his palm. He’s not picky with music, happy to let you or the children decide, but he does prefer to turn the radio off when everyone’s awake and alert so that he can explain the history behind all the different landmarks as you pass them—he chooses the longer route for that very reason. He loves to hold your hand while he drives so he can bring it up to his lips and kiss your knuckles without taking his eyes off the road.

Thanks to my bestie @xoxunhinged for helping me with these ;)

simon riley x fem!reader

cw: smut

not even five minutes in and simon is already pussy drunk.

he’s whining and moaning in your ear like the whore that he is. he’s got you pressed into the mattress, your legs spread wide to accommodate his bulk, and your pussy stuffed full of his fat cock. he’s rewarding you with deep strokes that make you dig your nails into his back until crescents are embedded deep in his skin.

“jus’ like that, si. you’re doing so good for me, baby,” you coo, breathlessly.

your praise comes out a little slurred, but simon understands every word. he wants to be good for you, wants to make you proud. and he does, making you see stars when he pulls out slowly, then bullies his cock back into your drooling pussy. his husky laugh fills your ears when you start yowling and clawing at his back, crying about how it’s too much.

“c’mon kitty, back’s still healin’ from the last set of scratches you gave me,” he rasps in your ear. his back stings like a motherfucker, but marking him up keeps you grounded.

you let out a strangled please please please when simon’s cock hits your g-spot repeatedly.

your pussy is damn near choking him to death and he loves it. he loves having you split open on his cock. if simon could keep you like this forever he would, having you strung out and full of his leaking cock while he pumps in and out of your sloppy hole until he can no longer function.

“pussy’s like heaven, baby,” he chokes out with a snap of his hips, before murmuring thank you, thank you, thank you.

you’re incapable of stringing together a decent reply. your eyes are blurred with tears and your thighs are shaking while he tears your shit up. with every moan and gasp you let out, simon fucks into you faster, almost frantically. and when he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and grinds into your pussy, his cock kissing your cervix, you arch up off the bed. the constant waves of pleasure is all you can focus on, when your orgasm takes you by surprise, punching the air out of your lungs.

simon barely gives you time to breathe, before he’s flipping you over and mounting you from behind. “need you to give me one more,” he hisses out, before groaning at the sound of your pussy making loud squelching noises around his length. “you’re being such a good girl f’me, takin’ my cock like you were made for it.”

“simon!”

“keep singing, lovie.” your wails bounce of the walls when he covers your body with his, then drives his cock even deeper into your pussy than before.

simon’s muttering about filling your hole to the brim with his seed, while he ruts into you like the beast that he is. and then he’s asking how am i doing, baby? to which you respond with you’re doing so well, simon.

simon knows he’s doing his best when he’s the reason your hair is all over the place, and when your eyes and pussy are leaking, and your mouth is wide open from your constant cries of pleasure when he reaches around your body to rub your clit raw.

“simon, please.”

“what do you need, lovie?”

you whine at the hint of laughter in simon’s voice when he asks you that. he knows exactly what you need. “wanna cum. i need it,” you whimper, while rocking back on his cock.

you almost burst into tears when he pulls out, leaving you empty and leaking. but then simon’s repositioning the both of you so you’re now in his lap. you have to hold on for dear life when he starts bouncing you on his cock, his large hands gripping your ass like a vice to keep you steady. through your loud whining and moaning, you can hear simon swearing and gasping, as his hips surge up frantically.

“f-fuck!” you bury your face in simon’s shoulder to smother your wails. you’re so loud, you know someone other than simon can hear you.

and then it all becomes too much. the bouncing, the way simon’s cock keeps hitting your g-spot, and his soft that’s it, that’s it, cum on this cock. i know you can do it, baby, so give me what i fuckin’ want.

you cum with a choked cry, you’re body shaking almost violently in simon’s lap as a feeling of euphoria washes over you. and when you come down from your high, you talk simon through it. he let’s out a whine when you start to rock your hips and clench around his cock. you laugh softly at the dazed look in his eyes when he tells you that your pussy will be the death of him one day. you continue to fuck yourself on simon’s cock, it being more for his benefit than yours. he’s fucking up into you with urgency. your pussy feels so good and he’s so close. you can tell by the way he keeps muttering fuck, fuck, fuck.

you press a few sloppy kisses to his jaw, before pulling back, “gonna cum for me, si? hm? want you to fill me up, make a mess of this pussy.”

simon’s not sure if it’s your words, or the way you’re writhing on his cock, but as soon as his hips start to stutter, he’s cumming in your pussy with a cry.

when he starts to pull out, you stop him, asking him to stay inside of you a little longer.

and you know simon, he can never say no to you.

“i love you,” you sigh out happily once you and simon are lying down, his cock still in you.

you can’t see his face, but simon’s eyes are bright when he says, “i love you too.”

a/n: idk i was listening to

( in an op in a forest)

reader: I swear if I see one spider I’m leaving

price: can’t do that tink

reading, mocking: cAnT do tHaT- watch me. One spider. Gone. Sitting on the helo, hell I’ll surrender myself to the enemy

ghost, nonchalantly: what if the torture you by spiders? reader: …they can’t be that heartless

ghost: mm. ghost; just so ya know Johnny is putting a spider in your bag as we speak

Johnny, doing that exact thing: OI NO IM NOT-

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3, (2023)

i love men who look like theyve been through some of the most horrendous shit ever sorry

Simple Math / Part Fifteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader AO3 - 4.7k words Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse!reader, hospital setting, domesticity, feelings of anxiety, self doubt, anxiety about sex. PTSD. Tiny bit of a panic attack. Tiny smidge of Simon's past if you know where to look. Comfort. Cockwarming. Barebacking, anal fingering, masturbation, praise kink, daddy kink. Basically the guys fuck while Bunny watches.

You’ve been having dreams about the hospital.

It’s always the same one.

You’re running a code with an intern and a fleet of baby nurses. No one is moving as fast as you are, no one is following direction. You’re on fast forward, they’re on rewind.

Every time, the dream starts and ends the same way. For some reason, you can’t see the patient’s face. You work on them for what feels like hours, and then only once it’s been called does the mental block disappear, you look down-

To see yourself.

Intubated. Bruised and broken.

Dead.

“Bunny.”

“Hmm?” You glance up across the counter, feeling the focus of Simon’s eyes before you see them.

“Everything alright?” Pen babbles ‘moremoremoremore’ while making the sign at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He mimics Penny’s sign, and then gives her a yes, spooning more yogurt into her mouth.

“You’ve been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, staring into your coffee.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry… I’m just a little… scatterbrained this morning.”

“Still having that dream?” It’s been a week and a half since it started, and a few days since you finally confided in Simon and Johnny it was bothering you. “Do you think it might be related to going back to work this week?” You shrug.

“Maybe? I don’t know… I’ve never dreamed of working on… myself.” His jaw flexes, and then he sighs.

“I’ve been thinking…” Penny squawks, demanding the attention of the room, and you pull some blueberries from the counter and put them on her plate. “My therapist is taking new patients. I don’t want to push you before you’re ready, but I’d like you to consider it.” The grimace slides onto your face without preamble. Sure, you’ve considered therapy in the past, but it’s a risk. Mandated reporting, paper trails, everything you don’t need.

“I don’t need therapy right now.”

“You have PTSD.” He says point blank, and you blink. Your mind fractures, little pieces twisting and turning, trying to knit together a larger picture.

“No- I- I’m not… it’s…” You’re a medical professional, don’t you know what PTSD looks like?

“It’s hard to see, in yourself.” Simon senses the confusion and tries to soothe it away, cool balm on a burn.

You suppose he’s not wrong. It’s not unrealistic, you having PTSD, but you’ve never been confronted with it. Never been forced to face the truth.

No one’s ever known you well enough, to see.

It stings. It stings for some reason, and you don’t know why.

“I’m sorry.” He stands, moving around the counter to stand in front of you. “I want to help you, bun, but I should have approached that differently.” You shake your head, relenting into the steady hand at your back, and tip your face into his chest. The confrontation of the truth aches, but there’s comfort in Simon’s touch, understanding, and you relent to it, drifting away inside his tender hold.

“What’s goin’ on?” Johnny’s close, appearing in the kitchen after sleeping in. He was deep in his own dreams when you woke up, sweet like angel in the clouds, buried in the pillows, and you couldn’t stand to wake him.

Simon rumbles something over your head. You can’t make it out, ear covered by his bicep, and you turn your head to peek, reaching for Johnny.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi.”

“Why don’t ye come lay down wit’ me on the couch?” He coos, stroking a hand over your hair. “’m not quite awake yet.” Simon gives you a squeeze, and you nod.

“Yeah, okay.”

Johnny holds you close. His nose in your neck, fingertips carefully tracing over your skin, heat at your back, he calms you, comforts you, lulls your stiff muscles languid. He’s so good at it, pulling and kneading until you settle, and it dawns on you he’s had practice.

“Would you tell me about you and Simon?”

“What do ye want to know?”

“What was it like… in the beginning. When you got together.” He kneads your hip, thoughtful for a quiet moment, and then takes a deep breath.

“He was difficult. Didnae wan’ to let me in, no matter how hard I tried. Had to corner him in his room on base just to get him to kiss me.” Johnny chuckles low, rubbing your shoulder. “Took him forever, to break down, let me see him, really see him, for the first time. I had glimpses, here and there. Moments in the field, on base, at the bar with the team when we’d decompress but… it took a lot of work. He tried to push me off, hide away.”

“Why?

“It’s his story to tell ye, bunny. An’ he will, in time.” He sighs. “He’s always been like this, strong, steadfast, more serious than me, but he buried a lot of things, deep. Always was very aware of it, jus’ not willing to show it to anyone else. Wanted to be a ghost.”

“But… he’s okay."

“He’s okay. Has some moments where he gets lost, still, but works through ‘em, wit’ me or on his own.” He kisses your neck, soft enough to tickle, and you shiver. “He’s really good at this, bein’ a da, takin’ care of a family. Treats us all like his little unit. I miss him too much when ‘m away. Pen too.”

“I’m sure.” His lips graze your shoulder, humming.

“An’ ye. When I go back, I’ll be thinkin’ of ye all the time.” When he goes back. The idea is chilling, a douse of cold water. It’s felt so far away, the idea of Johnny returning to his job, the thing that brought you to him in the first place.

“But that won’t be for a while, right? I mean, you’re still healing.”

“It won’t be for a while.” He assures, though there’s something in his voice, pinched and pained. You don’t ask, don’t push, choosing to close your eyes instead, nestled in his arms, safe.

“This is the worst.” You’re whining. You know you’re whining, know you sound like a child, but it spills out of you without stopping.

“I know sweetheart.” Simon screws the cap onto a travel mug, giving you a sympathetic smile. They’re both up with you, before the sun, listening to you moan.

You shouldn’t be going to work at this hour. You should be awake, puttering around, working your rhythm back to normal, getting oriented to working at night.

You’ve never hated your manager more. She insisted she was sorry, that she had no choice but to fill the overnight shift. She assumed, she said, the new nurse would want to go to days when you got back, but she’s taken a liking to it.

She’s taken your shift.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? An’ ye’ll see me tomorrow when I come in for therapy.” That is an upside at least, knowing you’ll be able to see him, see them both, at work.

But the rest of it, simply put, sucks.

“We should probably get going.” Simon kisses Johnny goodbye, and you’re drawn to them, sidling up in their orbit. Johnny wraps an arm around you, mouth to your temple.

“Have a good first day back, bunny. I’ll be thinking of ye.” You turn, grazing your lips on his, and he seals the kiss, drenching it in care, sweetness.

“Bye.”

Simon walks you all the way to the door.

Your resistance at the initial idea slowly fades as the sun peeks over the city. It’s different with Simon at your side, the paranoia and rampant fear infecting the atmosphere wherever you go is farther away.

You trust him. You’re starting to believe they may be able to keep you safe.

He holds your hand for most of the trip.

It’s… nice. Once you make it to the door, he turns and tucks his fingers under your chin, holding your gaze like a magnet. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” He presses his lips to your forehead, and you lean into it, eyes closed.

“Have a good day, bunny.”

Work is absolute hell.

Dayshift is so different from nights, and you have trouble adjusting. The turnover rate at the hospital is fairly high, so when you badge in and get started, you hardly recognize anyone.

Except, Marshall.

He’s standing outside the pit when you round the corner, devilish grin aimed at one of the nurses you don’t recognize. New probably. Sheep in a lion’s den.

You clear your throat. His head snaps up.

“Well, well, well… looks who back from vacation.”

“Marshall.” You greet, barely looking at him, tapping through your tablet. “I wasn’t on vacation. I was out on medical leave. Big difference.”

“Right.” He takes you in from head to toe. “Rotator cuff, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

“Surgical?”

“No.” The other nurse watches you with interest, before scurrying away when a bell chimes. “Still having inappropriate relationships all over the hospital, I see.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re one to talk.” Ice cracks across your forced smile. He smirks. “Heard you’ve got yourself two boyfriends.” You suck your teeth. Nia.

“Considering he’s no longer my patient, it’s hardly inappropriate.” With the best timing, his phone rings, pulling his focus, and you slip away.

Fucking asshole.

Simon opens the front door for you and is careful not slam it closed.

“Penny asleep?”

“Johnny’s trying now. We’ll see if he has any luck. She’s been fightin’ it.” The kitchen smells like garlicky lemon, and you peek over his shoulder to see a large saucepan filled with linguini, capers, and shrimp. Your mouth waters.

“That smells amazing.” He takes your bag from you and hangs in on a hook from the hall tree.

“Scampi. We remembered you said it was one of your favorites, and we thought we’d spoil you a little bit. Celebrate your first day back.” Your cheeks burn hot, and to your horror, tears build up through your nose to your eyes. His brows crinkle together. “Hey, what is it?”

“That’s just… it’s really nice. You don’t have to.” Someone celebrating something with you, for you, is alien. The memories of the beginning of your relationship with Phillip are long gone, twisted and gnarled into black rot. It’s how he charmed you, wooed you, brought you closer and closer until they all but faded and you were left with only the darkness. The vice grip of his hands. His satisfied, sickening smile every time you closed your eyes.

“It’s not a ‘have to’ thing, sweetheart. We want to.” He skates his fingers over yours, pulling them to his mouth. “I know it’s hard to get used to.” You’re a little bewildered by it, the care, the consideration, even the memory of something you mentioned off hand.

“I… thank you.” He kisses your temple.

“Go shower. You smell like a hospital.”

“This was so good. Thank you again.” Your hands are woven together under your chin, rich wine sauce still present on the back of your tongue.

“Aye, thank ye.” Johnny winks at Simon, who rolls his eyes.

“Here, let me-“

“I got it.”

“No, you cooked.” You protest with a pout as they both rise.

“Johnny, sit.”

“Can wash dishes, ye know. I’m not helpless.” A sliver of twilight passes over Simon’s expression, not quite darkness but still full of a looming shadow until he sighs, relenting.

“Alright.” Your lips purse.

“What about me?”

“Ye jus’ sit on the couch and look pretty, bun. Willnae take us more than a few minutes.”

‘Just sitting on the couch’ lasts for all of five minutes before you’re antsy, rolling to your feet and padding into the kitchen.

You stop dead at the corner of the counter.

They’re making out. More than making out, Simon is swallowing Johnny’s whines with big breaths, his hand down the front of his pants. You buzz, thighs pressing together without permission, spine tingling heat awakening in your blood with zeal.

“Ah, shite-“

“Shhh. Be good.” Simon admonishes, but smiles into the kiss, wrist working a rhythm in Johnny’s sweatpants. He pulls away, chin tilted, looking down his nose with an eyebrow raised, almost condescendingly, but still grinning. “Feel good? Just need some relief?” Johnny’s moan is strangled in his throat, and you’re about to turn the corner in the shame, mortified you’re essentially spying on them, when Simon looks at you like he knows you’ve been there the whole time. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” You whimper. It slips out, unbidden, and Johnny turns, forehead pressed to Simon’s cheek. His hips are trying to jerk into the grip that has slowed, and he groans.

“Si.”

“Relax.” Simon stills him, pulling his hand free. “Maybe bunny wants to play too.” You give them a nervous smile, butterflies building in your stomach. You’re scared, there’s no other emotion to describe it. There’s fear, bad memories, anxiety building in the back of your throat, but at the same time, desire pushes you forward. You trust them, and it’s reached a critical point. You want to try.

“I… maybe if we s-started slow… I’m not sure…”

“That’s okay.” Simon coaxes, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s waist, hand splayed possessively on his stomach. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Their bed is an enchanted place.

There’s love in it, beguiling affection that transfers to you, dots down your throat to your chest, your clavicle, ass pressed into the hardened swell of Johnny’s cock.

It’s enough to strike down your fear, pry you open, lecherous want infiltrating your mind, your soul.

Their dynamic is crystal clear. Simon is natural in his mastery of both Johnny and you, the leader, the maestro. His forbearance at slowly peeling you free, layer by layer, puts you at ease, calms you enough you let him take your pants off, leaving you in only your underwear and the t shirt you put on before dinner. He folds you up against Johnny, careful to mind his sore spots, the pieces still healing, lips finding the plush fold at your ribcage.

“Sweet little bunny.” He glides careful fingertips over your panties. “Can I touch you here?” You draw a deep breath.

“Yeah.” Johnny’s lips graze your neck, and he sweep up over your belly towards your nipples, under your shirt.

“An’ can I touch ye here?”

“Mm- mhmm.” You buck into them, sensation building between your legs, lust cascading to where Simon’s fingers slip into your underwear and down the seam of your pussy.

“You’re wet, sweetheart. Is this for us?” You nod, Johnny tickling circles across your breasts, playing back and forth, pinching and stroking gently.

They’re both taking it slow, cautious, and there’s one half of you wanting to rip into them, and vice versa, while the other half is terrified. So far, the reckless abandon side is winning, but when Simon grazes over your clit, the crest of your fear bottoms out in the pit of your stomach. Johnny flexes his hips, the weight of his cock between the curve of your ass, and the combination of it, the touch now overwhelming, stream of thoughts turning panicked and unstoppable like a bolder rolling down hill, steals your breath.

In the wrong way.

“S-stop.” You freeze, immobilized, muscles turned from molten lava to stone, eyes wide, lungs rasping. Simon immediately creates distance, while Johnny jerks backward, palm steady on your shoulder, but separated otherwise.

“Ye’re alright, bunny.”

“Take a breath.” Simon coaches, maintaining eye contact, and you nod shakily, anchoring yourself to Johnny’s tender hold. You manage a breath, not so far gone you’re spiraling, and it’s deep, without a hitch or a studder. “That’s great. You’ve got it.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, disappointed. You’ve let yourself down, let them down-

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He murmurs, understanding and slow. “We’re done. There’s no rush.”

“No!” You blurt. He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I just… I don’t want it to end I’m just not sure I can… do it.” His head tilts, surprise contained with a slow smile, and Johnny hums.

“Do ye wantae watch, pretty girl?” You nod shyly.

“Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” Simon rasps, stroking your cheek. “Sit up against the headboard.”

The two of them move into position seamlessly, sweat and breath thick in the air, a wet fog blanketed around you. A bottle of lube discarded on the mattress, a pillow under Johnny’s hip to cushion him. He’s settled on his side, arranged carefully to avoid pressure on his injuries, and they both face you.

Simon kisses his neck, sucking urgent marks into his skin before he palms Johnny's ass, hard and then slips between his cheeks. You’re unable to see his hand, but when Johnny’s eyes go wide and he groans hoarsely, your clit throbs.

“There you go.”

“Simon.” He whines, high pitched and needy.

“Bloody tight, Johnny. Been so long since I’ve taken care of you, huh?”

“A- fuck, aye.” He presses backwards into Simon, and pants. The scene makes you drool, the eagerness on Johnny’s face, the slow movements of Simon at his back, his lips against Johnny’s cheek, neck, murmuring gently. You’re nearly shivering, ache screaming between your legs, and instinct takes over as your slip your hand inside your underwear. You’re slick, so wet it dampens your curls, and your fingertips slide over your clit, zaps of electricity echoing through your nerve endings.

Simon looks up at you through heavy lids, mouth obscured by Johnny’s shoulder. “Are you touching yourself sweetheart?” You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid it will come out a garbled mess. “You want to come when I fill our boy up?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Keep going.’ He orders, and then shifts, pressing his cock to Johnny’s entrance. Johnny moans, and your own hips jerk.

Simon pushes slowly, focused on Johnny’s face, cataloging every expression. “Y’alright?” Johnny nods, lip tucked into his teeth. “Christ. You’re strangling me.” He thrusts sharply, sealing his hips to the soft curves in front of him, and Johnny cries out in a high-pitched wail, eyes slamming shut. He fumbles with his cock, squeezing at the root, but Simon pulls him away. “Not yet, sweet boy. Need you to last for us.” You’re trapped in a shockwave that hasn’t quite reached shore yet, tension building with each swipe over your sensitive bud.

“Bunny…” Johnny rasps, and your apprehensions wane.

“Does it feel good?” you whine, and he nods, groaning. Simon builds his thrusts into an unrelenting pace and cups Johnny’s belly, stroking down, pushing against the strain of muscle there, Johnny’s eyes rolling into the back of head. You wonder if Simon can feel it, the pressure, the bulge of his hard cock, shoving deeper and deeper.

“Daddy-“ Johnny shrieks, and Simon’s mouth curls into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s right, good boy. Fuck… perfect little hole f’me. All mine.” He practically growls it, and you writhe, flicking down your pussy and back up, breathing hitching in a frantic pace. Johnny’s delirious, hands scrambling across the sheets, half reaching for you, half reaching for nothing. “Isn’t he perfect, bunny?”

“Ah- yeah.” Your tongue is numb, body burning. Sweat slicks down the middle of your back, and you ride your hand violently.

“Please.” He’s begging, frenzied, fingers twisting, and Simon reaches for his cock, wrapping his fist around his length. It doesn’t take long until Johnny’s back bows, and your toes curl. You hiss. They move together wildly now, a push pull in a frenetic dance, and your eyes slip closed, sinking into the slick sounds of Simon fucking Johnny open, Johnny moaning, whispers passed back and forth. Simon cups his jaw, tilting his face towards you, and they both watch, drifting from your eyes down to where you’re trying to make yourself come, clit swollen and throbbing.

“She’s such a good girl, isn’t she? Touchin’ herself, watching you take my cock.”

“Pretty girl.” Johnny slurs through his gasps, body shaking with the power of Simon’s thrusts. He’s close, judging by the fevered look on his face, little gasps and whines tumbling from his mouth. Simon squeezes him, thick thumb rubbing over his slit.

“Come, bunny. Be good for daddy.” Simon coaches, and you tighten, cosmic explosion streaking behind your closed lids, the same time Simon grits out something under his breath, jaw tight, tugging relentlessly on Johnny’s cock until he’s crying out too, cum splattering up his belly and chest, Simon milking every last drop from his cock as he lazily strokes inside him.

Immediately, you gasp. Shocked at yourself, but not scared. Not nervous just… emboldened.

They both read it on you, and Johnny’s head lolls with a satisfied, lazy smile. Simon pulls free, rubbing Johnny’s hip sweetly, ducking into the bathroom to get a towel. He cleans him up carefully, gently, and Johnny’ reaches for your hand. You don’t turn away.

And when Simon urges you to tuck in between them for sleep, you do. More than willingly.

“He looks good.” Hot tea wafts from the cup in front of your nose. You’re on break, somewhat, watching Johnny work through his last few minutes of physical therapy, his face broken out in satisfied smile. His biceps flex. “Really good.”

“He’s been workin’ out at home, a bit. In the garage.”

“He shouldn’t be pushing it.”

“I know.” Simon squeezes your good shoulder. “He’s okay, bun. He’s strong. A bit too stubborn for his own good sometimes, but strong.”

“Dada.” Penny smacks an open palm against Simon’s chest, and he covers it with his own, bouncing her slightly.

“Look, Pen. Is that your Da in there? Is that him?” The therapist smiles at Johnny and pats him on the back, rubs his shoulder down to his elbow with wandering fingers. She’s pretty, and fit, tight ass, tiny hips. A sliver of self-doubt, self-consciousness pokes at you, and then jealousy nearly turns you green. Simon cocks his head with a laugh. “Easy, bun. She’s just doing her job, you know.”

“What? I know that. I’m fine.” You immediately blurt, and it does nothing for your cause.

“It’s cute. That you’re jealous.”

“I’m not,” you roll your eyes, “whatever.” He chuckles, and then starts to pass Penny to you.

“Can you hold her while I help him get his stuff together?”

“Sure, c’mere girlfriend.” You tuck her up into your chest, playing with her hair as she curls into you. “Sleepy huh? It’s past your nap time. I bet Dada keeps you up for an early bedtime tonight.” She coos. Her fingers tighten in the collar of your shirt.

And then a freight train rams itself in the deepest parts of your heart.

You lean against the wall to keep your balance.

This is not your baby, but she feels like yours. Her weight is familiar now. Her routines. Her signs and sounds.

It’s easy to close your eyes and imagine she’s yours.

It’s been days since you touched yourself in bed as Johnny and Simon had sex, and the scene, the desire, is burrowing itself in your brain.

You want more.

You want more so badly you wind up touching yourself in the shower, fingers stroking your clit until you're muffling a moan in your elbow when you come.

It doesn’t soothe the ache. You’re not sure what will.

So, when you’re done, and find them relaxing in bed, Johnny in boxers, an idea abruptly runs through your head.

Could you?

Your fingers twiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” Simon raises an eyebrow. Johnny stops his sketching to smile.

“I um. I wanted to… see… or ask for something.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I just… I was wondering if I could… sit on you.”

“Sit on us?” Simon’s brow furrows, but Johnny’s face lights up.

“Like, ye wannae sit on one of us?” He emphasizes the word sit, and Simon murmurs.

“Ah.”

“I just… I really want to… I want to move on.” The words take you by surprise. “I want to feel like a human again, like how I used to feel. Before I was like this. I think…”

“Taking back control of your body will bring you closer to healing.” Johnny looks at Simon, and there’s desperate sadness in their eyes. Their hands intertwine, gripping onto each other so hard it looks like it hurts.

The moment passes, gone like it was never there in the first place. Johnny turns back to you.

“Ye’ll have to sit on me, pretty girl.”

“But... your hip.”

“I can take it.” You nod. Not that you prefer one to the other, but you’re curious.

“Is there a reason why…”

“I’m too big, bunny. Especially if it’s been a while for you. We’ll need to ease you into it.” Johnny smirks, and you hide an excited shiver.

“Okay.”

You stretch yourself out with your own fingers at first, the process made easier by your orgasm in the shower, all the while both Simon and Johnny encourage you, coo at you, praise you.

You stay present. Focused.

“Take it slow,” Simon coaches when you straddle Johnny’s hips, “don’t rush it. Just take your time.” Hands on his shoulders, Simon reaches for his cock, sliding it through your lips, brushing your clit before angling it at your entrance. You take a deep breath.

“Okay.”

The first inch makes you whine. Johnny’s fingertips draw circles up and down your spine, his lips in your ear. “Good job, pretty girl. Just like that. Nice and easy.” Your eyes slip closed, and you take more, sliding down his cock, the burn of the stretch smarting tears in your eyes. Simon wipes them away.

“Our brave girl. You’re doing so well. Feel okay so far?”  

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye alright? Does it hurt?”

“A little.” You wince, taking another inch, glancing down. Your equilibrium pitches.

“Look at me.” Johnny redirects, head tilted back on a pile of pillows. “Jus’ look at me, bunny. You’re safe. I’ve got ye.” His hands guide your hips, keeping your pace even and slow, careful. Even when the anxiety invades your control, he steadies you. “It’s us, just us. We’re here, bunny. You’re okay.” The ache, the open sore spot spilling sticky, blackened tar, seals up. It's zippered shut, away from you, packed tight for another day. Another moment. The only thing you need to focus on is here, and now. With them. Johnny's jaw clenches. “Christ Si. She’s really tight.”

“I know.” He pushes some of Johnny’s hair from his forehead. “You’re both being so good. I’m proud of you.” The praise, the warmth from the both of him, glows in your heart. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, in your life. Again and again, they surprise you, teaching you how things you used to dread or shy away from can be enjoyed, valued.

This is how it should be. Love without fear. Intimacy without fear.

You’re fully split open on Johnny, stuffed full. It’s tender, calm in the low light of the bedroom, almost cozy. His thighs blaze under your ass, and the heat creeps like lava to your fingers and toes, turning you boneless, languid in his arms. Simon leans in to kiss your temple.

“How do you feel?”

“R-really full.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No just… stretched, I think?” You wiggle a little bit, and Johnny finally breaks eye contact, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.

“Try to be still bunny. We just want to get you used to the feeling. This isn’t about sex.” Simon's last comment earns Johnny a warning glance, and he nods, straightening.

“Right. Even though your perfect little pussy is drivin’ me mad-“

“Johnny.” Simon chides. “Bunny, can you lean forward for me?” His hand presses to the middle of the back, guiding you to rest your cheek on Johnny’s shoulder. “Good girl.”

The room lapses into silence that lasts, rhythm of your chest rising and falling syncing with Johnny’s, Simon humming, working a hand up and down your spine.

Up and down. Up and down.

You think you could do it now. Roll your hips and rise on your knees, sink back down to feel the pressure, the bludgeoning tip of Johnny’s long cock nestled at your cervix. You’re not sure, not confident, but somewhere in your dreams, you picture yourself milking him dry, riding his cock until you’re shattering.

“Si.” Johnny’s voice pitches to something you’ve never heard, low and heavily accented. “Will ye read?” Pages of a book flutter. You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed, but as Simon’s voice picks up a page with no pretense, you don’t fight it, allowing yourself to drift between them, cradled on Johnny’s body with a piece of him pulsing inside you.

It’s bliss. It’s love. You’re…. happy.

𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭!

synopsis: first time at the gynecologist? don't worry, dr. nanami kento will take good care of you!

contains: DARK CONTENT, afab!reader, fem!reader, naive virgin!reader, gynecologist!nanami, medical malpractice, age gap (reader is in their 20's, nanami is divorced and in his 40's), dom/sub undertones, pet names (mostly sweetheart), tiny bit of obsession on both ends but nothing too out of pocket, masturbation (f&m), slight coercion, dubcon due to power imbalance, virginity loss, glove kink?, sir kink, praise kink, fingering, pussy inspection, pussy spanking, squirting, oral (f&m), subtle cock worship?, allusions to mommy & daddy issues, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!!!), breeding kink, kento is a big fat LIAR :P, allusions to babytrapping, slight bit of aftercare, they're matching each other's freaks 🫡

wc: 10.2k (help me)

a/n: i don't know what came over me... anyways happy belated birthday to my man <3 partially inspired by this delicious wonderful amazing scrumptious fanart!!

PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!!

minors, ageless and empty blogs will be blocked immediately!!

the air of the doctor’s office was permeated with the smell of hand sanitizer, the leather underneath your thighs feeling stickier by every minute that ticked by.

‘the first visit will be fine, they won't do anything.’ that's what you've been told by friends and family after telling them you finally confirmed your first gynaecologist’s appointment online. the website was easy to navigate and seemed inviting enough, the fact that the practice was basically across the street just a nice bonus. at least that way, you could retreat in shame as soon as possible.

you had already filled out the initial assessment, your hand shaking while you wrote your information down.

adjusting your posture, the chair creaked underneath you while you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. taking deep breaths and repeating to yourself that you're fine, it's normal in your twenties, that you would've needed to go at some point.

just get it over with.

your eyes snapped open when a smooth, deep voice called out your name. you jumped to your feet with a small smile, nodding to his questioning tone. “that's me.”

“follow me, please.”

the white coat did nothing to hide the doctor’s broad back, his greying hair was slicked back with round glasses perched atop. his cologne wafted over to your nose, filling it with a pleasing scent. your heartbeat picked up with every step you took towards the examination room and you felt a bead of sweat run down your back.

he closed the door behind you and motioned for you to sit across the table. you settled into the chair, fiddling with your fingers nervously. he sat down across from you, typing something quickly. it allowed you to focus on the doctor before you.

his tired brown eyes, smooth sharp nose with another pair of rectangular reading glasses on top. his face was adorned with the tiniest bit of stubble, casting a subtle shadow. his hands were smooth with well-groomed nails. he was wearing a white polo with the buttons unbuttoned, likely due to the heat, showing a little of his chest hair. the whole view had you squirming in your seat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure you were feeling deep in your tummy.

you quickly snapped out of your daze when he turned to you with a warm smile.

“i’m dr. kento nanami, i’ll be taking care of you today. is this your first time with us?” he spoke, folding his hands in his lap.

you nodded. “first time ever, actually. i’m a little nervous,” you giggled, “it's probably unusual for someone in their twenties to see a gynecologist for the first time.”

he hummed along with your statement. “not at all. we see that more often than not, truthfully. is there any specific reason for your visit?”

“uhm, h-how do i say this?” you stuttered. “well, my mother told me to since i’m in university now and i, uh, want to be sexually active.”

a lump formed in kento’s throat, mouth suddenly feeling dry. a pretty little thing like you must have guys lining up to take you and here you were openly admitting that you're a virgin.

just his luck.

“is there anything specific you’d like to talk about? i’m sure you've had sex ed in school,” he chuckled and felt a wave of relief wash over him as you nodded. his smile widened just a smidgen, showing his perfectly lined up teeth.

“no anatomy lesson necessary. i've been considering the pill, since i've heard a lot of college guys like to have sex ‘raw’?” your voice spiked at the last word, confusion evident in it.

“mhm, with no condom, yes. that seems to be popular nowadays. especially with people your age and with strangers too,” kento tutted, shaking his head in disbelief. “while the pill might protect you from unwanted pregnancies, not 100% might i add, it's recommended to use condoms as well. they protect from sti’s, which is usually an unwelcome byproduct of having intercourse with strangers.”

your reaction was immediate. you shuddered visibly, amusing kento. he typed on his keyboard again before turning back to you.

“who knows where these college brats have had their dicks, hm? you should be careful. you can take some condoms from the front desk when you leave,” he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“well,” he clicked his tongue, “since this is your first appointment, i won't do a vaginal exam. i wouldn't want to overwhelm you and then you're even more scared and never come back. however, i do want to check your breasts, just in case.”

he got up, smoothing down his pants and sanitizing his hands.

“do you know how to check your chest for lumps?” he asked. nodded when you shyly shook your head.

“i’ll show you, so you can do it yourself. it's important to know how to check so that if you find a lump, we can act accordingly. you can do this in the shower or when you're getting dressed. whenever, really. please take off your bra and shirt.”

he motioned for you to stand up and turned away as you freed your breasts from the confinement of your clothes. you cleared your throat to signal that you were ready. you averted your gaze in shame and in that beat, missed how kento’s pupils dilated as he looked at your chest.

your nipples started to harden with the cold air around you (was the ac on? it felt like it was freezing) and you felt your face getting hot in embarrassment. kento stepped closer to you, his back bending to adjust to your height.

“apologies, my hands are a bit cold,” he mumbled, barely audible. before you could register what he said, you felt his cold skin against yours. you gasped and flinched, your skin rising with goosebumps. kento apologized again, smoothing his hands down your chest.

it felt so foreign to have someone else touch your breasts, so intently too. his brown eyes were glued to the way the fat jiggled when he let go, how squishable and – oh, how soft it was underneath his rough fingertips.

he was speaking to you in a low tone but your brain turned it into white noise. you were too focused on the way your pebbled nipples started to harden even more and how your panties were starting to stick to your cunt.

your eyes were glazed over and kento knew, of course he did. he knew that nothing he was saying was actually reaching your cognitive center. his fingers continued working through the tissue of your chest, prodding and squishing wherever necessary. when he pulled back, his cold hands brushed against your nipples and you let out a pathetically aroused squeak. you felt your skin prickle with embarrassment and quickly covered your top half again.

your doctor sanitized his hands again before sitting down on his chair, motioning for you to sit. you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your thighs not so subtly rubbing together to alleviate some of the pressure. kento typed and spoke at the same time, seemingly unaffected.

“your chest is absolutely okay, no lumps, no abnormalities. not that you had any reason to worry,” he smiled warmly.

“i won't put you on the pill just yet, since i haven't done an ultrasound or physical examination yet. we will do that next time.” he looked at you intently. “if you're comfortable, that is. all in your own time. until then, please refrain from any sexual activity with others.”

you nodded, a meek “yes, sir” escaping your chapped lips. he let out an approving hum, typing away at his keyboard.

“i-is that your wife?” you quietly asked, pointing at the photo on his desk while trying to ease some of the awkwardness. kento stiffened, suddenly aware of the frame standing proudly in his vicinity.

“ex, um, ex-wife, we got divorced not too long ago.” he immediately took the photo, putting it face down and giving you a tense smile. you started sweating, apologizing profusely and looking at him through your lashes for making him upset.

but if only you knew how hard kento was underneath that desk. he hasn't felt this much excitement ever since he got divorced, that wound still fresh and stinging. his cock throbbed at the thought of you listening to his every word, being so obedient. he discreetly adjusted his boner and suppressed a groan. your doctor gave you a smile, ignoring the sweat that started settling down on his brow.

“please make an appointment for next month with my dear assistant. please make sure to think about the very likely possibility of me having to perform an ultrasound and a physical exam and get comfortable with it.”

you nodded, getting up to leave the suddenly claustrophobic room.

“i’ll see you next time, thank you, doctor.”

next month’s appointment and the one another month after that rolled around, passing without a hitch. he would perform a regular chest exam, not paying your reactions any mind. seeing the dark circles underneath his eyes, you figured that divorce stress probably caught up to him, making his breath heavier and hands shaky.

two months after your first appointment, you finally revealed to be ready to go further with the examinations. his eyes lit up just slightly, giving you a small smile. “alright, i’ll be seeing you soon then.” his voice sounded tired, almost as bad as he looked.

“see you next month, doctor. thank you for your time.”

next time came faster than you expected. with uni courses and a part-time job taking up most of your time, you almost missed the bright red spot on your calendar. the night before your next appointment with dr. nanami, you tried to will yourself to sleep, but your body was on fire. he’d be the first one to see you that intimately and it made your tummy burn with both anxiety and excitement.

‘he doesn't see you that way, stop worrying. nothing’s wrong with you. it's just a physical exam. he sees that all day, it's just his job,’ you thought to yourself, 'you're not that special, you’re just a touch-starved virgin. he doesn't think about you that way. right?’

wrong.

inside his own four walls, a little bachelor pad if you will, your very gynecologist was fisting his cock to the image of you. replaying your last appointments with him, the way you obediently listened to his every word. how soft and squishy your tits felt under his fingers, how you squeaked when he ‘accidentally’ brushed his fingertips against your nipples. he couldn’t stop his mind from going further, fantasizing about how next time, he’d be seeing you in all your glory.

what would you look like spread out in front of him? would you make any sounds when he examined you?

all these questions had his mind reeling, imagining how he’d fuck you on his exam chair, your legs up in the air and hands clawing at him. the image of your soft breasts jiggling with every thrust sent him over the edge, hot cum painting his fingers and lower abdomen.

kento wanted to be the one to have you first, to ruin you for every other man that encountered you. he wanted to be the one to claim your mind and body for the first time. and he’d make sure to make you feel good. who else would know how to, if not him?

he’d just have to make you trust him.

the day rolled around, the smell of hand sanitizer slowly becoming familiar to your senses. you tried your best to ease the nerves that were creeping up to you. you wore a skirt for easy access, debating on whether to put on nice panties or not (what would he think if he saw your nice underwear? would he even care?).

the familiar voice called out to you, kento giving you a small smile.

the beginning of the appointment was the same as the first time, the nervousness of him palpating your chest easing a little. the arousal however was still evident, gluing your panties to your crotch. he walked you over to a patient couch covered with thin paper, motioning for you to lay down for the ultrasound. you did as told, sliding up your shirt and pulling down your skirt and panties just a bit.

just enough for kento to see the little bow on your panties and the rise of your pubic bone. it got him flustered enough to feel his cock jump a little in his pants. clearing his throat, he reached over to tuck a little paper towel underneath the waistband of your skirt with shaky hands.

“the gel will feel a little cold. i’m just going to look at your bladder, uterus and ovaries to check if everything’s alright,” he explained before squirting some gel onto your lower tummy.

you flinched at the coldness, feeling goosebumps rise over your skin. you squirmed to get comfortable before feeling the ultrasound wand touch your skin. he slid the gel around to cover more surface before gently pressing down, adjusting the depth on the machine.

it was quiet, lest for the sound of your nervous breathing and a few gentle hums coming from the doctor. he showed you the screen, explaining your inner anatomy to you. you barely registered anything past “it all looks good”, focusing on his hands and how approving he looked at you. he looked better than last time, eyebags losing their grey color and his face gaining some color back.

“seems like everything is fine. let me clean you up and we can continue with the vaginal exam. unless you are still not comfortable with it?” kento spoke, wiping down your tummy with the utmost care, attentive enough to sneakily slide the paper towel just below your waistband. you shook your head as you covered yourself and sat up slowly.

“i'll have to get it done sooner or later, so i might just get it over with,” you chuckled, the slight shake in your voice not going unnoticed by kento.

“i will not force you to take it. if you truly don't feel comfortable with a vaginal exam just yet, we won't do it.”

his tone and gaze were firm, but gentle enough for you to not be intimidated. his cold hand was on top of yours, thumb moving across your skin.

“if i cross your boundaries now, you will not be able to trust me. what kind of doctor would that make me if cross my patients’ boundaries, hm?” he asked, his brown eyes zeroing in on your burning face. you swallowed hard, trying to keep your attention on his face and not on the bulge that was basically staring at you.

“a bad one, right? so you have to trust me. i understand it can be hard, especially since i am a male doctor and you're not experienced with gynecologists at all. but i can promise you, i only have your best interest at heart.”

you felt your heart thump heavy against your ribcage, sweat accumulating on your lower back. it was hard to accept, but for some reason, the reassuring touch and tone of the older man had you melting under his gaze.

“it's fine. i guess i’m just a little nervous,” you giggled, smoothing your skirt down your legs. kento stared at you for a few, seemingly infinite, beats before turning towards his cupboard of instruments.

“alright. it won't take too long. please take off your shoes and underwear in the little room right there and come back to me when you're ready.” he smiled warmly, motioning for an unassuming door right next to his desk. “you can leave your valuables in there, it's only accessible from here.”

you nodded, getting up and closing the door behind you. the space was indeed tiny, cramped even. you barely had space to move around. taking off your shoes, you debated on keeping your socks on or not. but the linoleum beneath your toes felt too cold and unwelcoming to leave your feet uncovered.

sliding your hands under your skirt, you cringed at the feeling of your underwear sticking to your folds. slowly peeling it off, you felt the resistance and let out a tiny whine.

you hoped he wouldn't notice how aroused you had gotten or at least not mention it. it's normal, right? nothing to worry about. totally normal.

you stepped out, closing the door behind you. kento sat on his rolling chair, legs spread comfortably. thank god his pants somewhat concealed his hard-on.

“please, no need to be nervous,” he voiced reassuringly, motioning to the scary looking chair in front of him. he had taken off his coat, showing off his toned biceps and veiny underarms. you sat down, leaning back and taking a deep breath before putting one of your legs into the stirrups. he adjusted the height of the chair before signaling for you to put your other leg up as well.

“may i?” he asked before gloved hands gently grabbed underneath your buttocks and slightly pulled you towards him. you squirmed to feel even just a little more comfortable in this absolutely uncomfortable position. kento sucked in a harsh breath while his eyes focused on the way your pussy glistened underneath the fluorescent light. you looked even more delicious than he had imagined. the skirt flipped up just added a perfect backdrop to the vision that was you.

you looked away in shame, feeling a burning from your chest to the tips of your ears. it did not help your case that your doctor was so attractive, you could feel your arousal escape your hole. praying that he wouldn't say anything, you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“okay, your vulva looks good, healthy color and tissue. i’m gonna take a speculum and spread your vaginal entrance a little. i’ll take a look and do a cervical swab. it might feel uncomfortable and the swab might sting a bit but it's not going to take long, i promise.” his soothing voice reached your ears and you looked between your legs to find your doctor intently staring at you. you let out an affirming hum and tried to focus on the ceiling.

the speculum felt cold between your legs and you jumped at the feeling of metal. a hand on your thigh soothed you back into position. as he inserted the lubed up instrument, you could feel your tummy burning in embarrassment. the swab did sting but hearing that your insides looked perfect soothed your nerves a little. he slowly pulled out the metal, setting it aside before turning back to you.

“i have to palpate the inside of your vagina as well, to feel if there are any deeper tissue abnormalities. is that okay with you?” kento questioned, his tone forcing you to look at him again. you gave a shy nod, not trusting your voice at all. he hummed, murmuring something under his breath that you couldn't understand. he squirted some gel onto his gloved fingers (were they always that thick and long? how are they gonna fit?) before gently pushing one in. you let out a panicked yelp, covering your mouth with your hand.

your doctor let out a chuckle, his own heart threatening to burst out of his chest at your cute reactions. he could feel his cock throb painfully in the confinement of his pants, feeling lightheaded at the pure pleasure he was getting out of feeling and hearing and watching you.

you squeaked out a tiny “sorry” while getting used to the sensation of something other than your own fingers inside you. dear god, it was someone else’s finger inside your cunt and you almost creamed on it upon insertion. how embarrassing.

‘get yourself together,’ both of you thought simultaneously. thank god, you couldn’t look into kento’s brain going berserk.

you felt the digit prod and poke around your insides before another joined the team. you felt your hole stretch around the doctor’s gloved fingers and you felt shame (or pleasure?) boiling in the pit of your stomach. his other hand came on top of your lower tummy, gently pressing down. you felt him press against a spongy spot inside you and a pathetic whine escaped your throat.

“everything seems to be fine, nothing out of the ordinary. feels good?” kento taunted lowly, almost condescending you for falling apart so easily. a little “mhm” made it past your lips.

“answer me properly, sweetheart.”

you panted, looking down at kento, who looked flushed himself. his pupils were blown wide, a few graying strands falling into his eyes. his lips were parted and slicked with drool. his gloved fingers still moved inside of you, the hand on top of your tummy sliding down just a smidgen.

“feels good… sir,” you whimpered, shyly testing out what he was trying to allude to. kento gave you a small smile, seemingly satisfied with your answer. his fingers started moving a little faster, the gel slowly liquifying and making the stretch more bearable. there was a lewd squelch coming from between your legs and you could feel your arousal run down between your ass cheeks.

“fuuuck,” you cried out, noise muffled by your hand. kento's fingertips pressed against that spongy spot in your walls again, the pressure building even more. his thumb gently pressed against your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it and intensifying your pleasure tenfold.

“such a filthy mouth on such an innocent girl,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss against your knee.

“ah, mhm, i think i-i’m gonna-” you whined, grabbing onto his thick forearm. before kento could even say anything, he felt your walls clench tightly around his fingers. your back arched and you pressed your hand against your mouth to stifle the very loud moan that left your drooly lips.

your pussy tensed rhythmically around his thick digits and he slowed his movements, letting you ride out the high. your hips moved against his fingers, seemingly having a mind of their own.

you let out a small hiccup when he pulled out, examining your cum on his latex gloves before popping the fingers into his mouth. he let out a groan at your taste, keeping his gaze fixated on your face. your hair was sticking to your forehead, drool slipping out from the side of your mouth. a sight to behold. your eyes were unfocused but you were conscious enough to watch him lick his fingers clean before tossing the gloves into the trash.

“delicious,” he mumbled, adjusting his boner and letting out a low moan. “such a sweet thing. do you even know what you look like down there? have you ever looked at yourself? especially right now?” he asked before rummaging through his drawer to pull out a handheld mirror.

he held it between your legs in an angle that you could watch him. his cold hand slid up your still restrained leg and you watched your leaking hole clench. he explained your most intimate anatomy to you, sliding his ungloved fingers around your twitching hole and swollen labia before finally settling on your clit.

“and this here,” he teased, circling around the hood, “is the epicenter of your pleasure. the clitoris has at least 8,000 nerve endings, if not more. but this is only the part that is visible, the spot where i pressed on the inside is your g-spot, the internal part of it. utilizing both of them gives you the most pleasure, to the point where you could ejaculate or squirt.”

his teasing touch, paired with the stoic and almost condescending tone of his voice, had your hips moving against him, trying to chase some more of that euphoric feeling with your eyes threatening to shut.

a harsh slap against your clit had you crying out. “keep looking, i’m explaining here,” he tutted, adjusting his position so you could see your cunt even better in the mirror. you looked down, panting and smelling your own arousal. you looked into the little reflection of your swollen pussy, watching with heavy eyes as he started explaining again. his touch was gentle but firm enough for you to yearn for more.

he spread your folds, showing off your glistening bud and fluttering hole. “such a beautiful pussy. so sweet, too. but you still have a lot to learn about yourself,” he mused, backing off. you whined, pleading for– you didn't even know what exactly.

he turned his back to you, collecting a few paper towels and wiping his fingers off. gathering a couple more, he turned back to you, wiping your sensitive vulva down.

“everything looks and feels healthy. you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” he smiled warmly at you, acting like nothing happened. he was gently lifting your legs out of the stirrups and setting them down onto the floor. he helped you sit upright, telling you to go slow so you don't feel dizzy. kento held your hand as you stand up on shaky knees, flattening down your skirt as you made your way back to the tiny room to tidy yourself up.

‘you look like a whore,’ you heard your mother’s voice in the back of your head as you smoothed down your hair, trying to make yourself look a little more presentable.

you put your panties back on, cringing at the icky feeling of cold arousal and discharge against your hot skin. you quickly put on your shoes and exited the small stuffy room. kento was back at his desk, looking just the tiniest bit disheveled with some of his hair sticking out where it shouldn't. he gave you a small smile as you sat down, waiting for him to speak with fiddling fingers.

“don't worry, this is all confidential. after all, i’m your doctor. i do have a request for you. to get a little more comfortable with yourself and your pleasure, i am asking you to keep a diary. similar to a regular one, you will write in it every day. i would like for you to keep it on you at all times. what i want you to write in it is quite simple,” he spoke calmly and professionally, in contrary to his racing heart and twitching cock beneath the fabric of his pants.

“i want you to write down every time you feel aroused, why you feel aroused and when you masturbate and how. and please be completely honest. if you don't know how to pleasure yourself, watch porn or just touch yourself. just figure out what feels good for you. also please write down what you're thinking of. it will all be confidential. i know this may seem like a lot but i’d like for you to make regular appointments every or every other month.”

you squirmed in your seat, feeling a flush down your neck. “will you be reading it, doctor?”

he smiled. “yes, why are you asking? i’d like to help you figure out what you like if you want to be sexually active with others. it's very important to know your preferences beforehand so you can decide what feels good and what doesn't.”

the adrenaline from the orgasm was still clouding your brain. you gave him a small smile yourself. “so i need to use my pretty handwriting if you're going to read it, sir.”

the tone of your voice paired with the innocent look on your face had kento’s brain going haywire. you were acting as if he didn't just give you the best orgasm of your life on his examination chair. he just wanted to put you in his pocket, keep you to himself forever.

he grinned, adjusting his hard-on. this time not so discreetly, making your mouth water. “i’ll see you next time, take care.”

as soon as you left the doctor’s with a new appointment, kento locked himself into his office. he hastily pulled his pants down just enough for his fat cock to spring out, mushroom tip profusely leaking precum. his hand slowly made his way from the base to his leaky tip, shuddering as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. the appointment replayed behind his eyelids, the memory of your pretty little cunt burned into his brain. he remembered the little sounds you'd made, the softness of your skin, the smell of your arousal. all of it.

he imagined eating you out, getting even more of a taste of your sweet pussy. he wondered if he could actually make you squirt, maybe even on his face. he fantasized about sinking his thick cock into your tight heat, how snug you'd wrap around him. you were so wet from just a few touches. how good would you feel if he made you cum a few times first? if he prepped and stretched your virgin cunt out to take all of him to the hilt?

just the image of his cock bottoming out in your tight pussy had him cumming with a pathetic whine all over his fingers.

the next few months, you spent your time diligently keeping your diary, writing down every single horny thought you had. you’ve had a few more appointments, those going by without a hiccup. it was always the same routine. have some small talk, breast exam, ultrasound every other month and a vaginal exam as well. there was only two appointments that stuck out to you.

the first one was when a medical student was shadowing kento, watching your appointment (with your consent, of course) with hawk eyes. he was taking diligent notes about what kento said, what he did, how he communicated with his patients. you were his special case though and he couldn’t resist sneakily curling his fingers against your walls when his student wasn’t looking. pressing his finger against his lips to shush you when you squirmed as the pads of his gloved fingers pressed against your g-spot repeatedly. you had spent the rest of your appointment acutely aware of the extra set of eyes watching you.

the second one was right before your appointment. you were waiting to be called in when you saw a girl about your age walk by the waiting room to gather her jacket. she was making a voice memo for someone. you weren’t really paying attention but hearing her say how hot and charming the doctor was had your ears perking up and your heart rattle with jealousy. you were cold the entire appointment and of course, the ever attentive doctor noticed right away. you wouldn’t tell until he drew two sweet orgasms out of you on his chair, taking advantage of your fuzzy brain. he chuckled when you finally confessed to feeling jealous and he assured you that nothing happened, he wasn't giving anyone else your special treatment. he just couldn’t help how people see him. he spent the next half hour sucking on your nipples and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you to make you feel better.

well, only a month into your diary writing did you actually try to get yourself off after spending the whole day fantasizing about your hot older doctor and how his fingers alone made you feel so good, you wondered what his dick would feel like.

as soon as you got home from your classes, you rid yourself of your clothes and settled onto the bed. you had masturbated before, orgasmed before but it had felt so different, so much more intense with dr. nanami. was that how it would feel all the time with another person?

you started touching your neck, letting your nails scrape over your hot skin. you closed your eyes with a sigh, imagining it was kento’s big hands touching you instead. you could feel your pussy throb at that thought and slid your hands down to your chest. gently squeezing the fat of your breasts, carefully rolling your perked nipples between your fingers. you whimpered, your hips moving as if there was something to grind against.

one of your hands reached down, sliding up your thigh and feeling the radiating heat from your leaking cunt. one tentative swipe of your finger against your folds coated it in your essence, the musk filling your nostrils. you open your eyes, inspecting your finger before putting it in your mouth tentatively. it didn't taste bad, just a little unusual. you'd have to try again after cumming.

your hand resumed its former position between your legs. your finger swiped through your wetness again before settling on your clit. just a simple touch had your skin on fire, your thighs twitching slightly. closing your eyes again and leaning back against the pillow, you imagined your doctor’s big finger drawing small circles on your nub. you imitated his motion, feeling your hole clench around nothing. a low whine escaped your throat, a whine of his name. in the comfort of your own home, you could let the thoughts of having your doctor take your virginity run rampant.

another finger joined, adding more pressure to your clit and gathering more wetness onto your digits. you pinched your sensitive bud just like your nipple and your hips bucked into the air.

“o-oh fuck, feels so good,” you moaned, sliding your fingers against your clitoral hood in tandem. “ha-ngh aah, oh my god,” you stammered before slowly lifting your hand and flattening it. smacking the pads of your fingers against your cunt, you felt how wet you truly were, feeling a few drops hit your thighs.

“so good, so fff-fucking good, sir!” you responded to no one but kento’s voice in your head, asking if you were feeling good. you were basically talking dirty to yourself. who cared? it felt good, it made your head spin and your pussy throb underneath your fingertips.

your already lubed fingers slowly slid into your hole, feeling it flutter around them, while your other hand made its way to your clit. it was clumsy, unfamiliar but oh, did it feel good.

you were so close you could taste it. the mental image of kento between your legs, his fingers reaching deeper than yours ever will and his breath fanning over your cunt sent you over the edge. your mind went blank, thighs clenching shut and a loud whine of kento’s name coming from your chapped lips.

it felt good, although a little unsatisfying because you couldn't reach that spot without your wrist cramping up after a few minutes. you pulled out your fingers with a wet squelch and slowly putting them in your mouth, tasting yourself again. you still didn't understand how kento could say you were sweet but it felt good to lick your fingers clean with the thought of his fingers in your mouth instead. you wondered if kento would like it if you cleaned his fingers of you and your cunt clenched again, cream leaking out onto the sheets.

you heaved a few more breaths, wiping down your hands on your sheets before reaching for the water bottle on your nightstand. you quickly went to the bathroom before writing down a very detailed diary entry and passing out from exhaustion soon after.

the next few weeks went down in a very similar manner, finding new ways and positions to fuck yourself in and writing them down in your prettiest handwriting with a few hearts sprinkled in between. your orgasms were always satisfying but never as mind blowing as the ones he gave you, even if you tried emulating the same movement or speed. it never matched how good his thick, experienced fingers felt inside you.

and just like that, a few months had passed and you felt yourself being giddy the night before, kicking your feet and giggling and all. your heart started to pick up speed and your thoughts were circling around seeing the man of your desires again. and with those happy, giddy thoughts, you fell asleep.

the next day passed quicker than you thought and soon enough, you found yourself in dr. nanami’s office yet again. he had regarded you with the same respect and warmth but he couldn't lie and say he wasn't excited to see you again. his every waking thought was occupied by you and your sweet little cunt, his hand wrapping around his cock from the moment he woke up to the second he fell asleep.

“well? how are you today? have you been keeping up with your diary?” he asked, leaning onto his hands with his darkened eyes fixated on you.

you nodded, pulling out your notebook from your bag. looking at it now, you felt a little embarrassed about the stickers on it, the way it looked tattered from how enthusiastically you wrote in it and most importantly, what you wrote in it.

kento flipped through the first few pages, skimming over your handwritten notes with an appreciative hum. he admired your handwriting and felt his heart skip a beat at the little hearts drawn next to his name.

he closed the notebook quietly with a small smile. “thank you very much. i really appreciate you cooperating and indulging me like this. shall we proceed with the exam?”

after a thorough breast exam that left you wanting more, you're back on the exam chair with your legs spread eagle and speculum inserted into you. he took another swab, watching your hole clench around the cold metal. his fingers slid into the mouth of the instrument, prodding his fingers into your walls and listening to your whimpers. he then pulled the instrument out, replacing it quickly with his fingers and performing his routine exam.

your voice was muffled against your hand again, your eyes filling with hot tears at the little stimulation he provided. he was staying professional, even with his breathing heavy and cock throbbing. after confirming that you didn't have anything to worry about, he pulled out, attempting to pull off his soiled gloves but your whimper stopped him in his tracks.

“could you please, um, leave them on when you’re down there?” you asked, looking at him through your lashes with a subtle pout.

he got up from the chair, leaning over you until your noses touched. you could smell his cologne, the gentle smell making your head spin. “y’like being fingered with gloves? didn't know such an innocent little thing like you would be this dirty,” he teased, relishing in the shuddering breath you let out at his tone. he straightened back up with a smirk and adjusted his gloves, making saliva pool in your mouth. “alright then.”

“a-and, um, also,” you stammered, pawing at him to come closer, “can i please touch you? i wanna make you feel good too and the practice will help me if i wanna be sexually active, right, sir?”

kento sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes before exhaling shakily. never in his wildest dreams would he have thought to ever get this opportunity. he stepped to the side of the exam chair, letting you undo his belt, button and zipper with shaky, inexperienced fingers. you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down just enough to reveal his thick, leaking cock.

you gasped, only having seen penises in porn. you saw a pearl of precum running down his shaft, his musk filling your nostrils. you gently pulled him towards you before nuzzling your nose against his trimmed pubes and inhaling his scent deeply.

“smells so good, sir,” you whimpered, looking up at his flushed face. he looked down at you with his pupils blown wide and one of his gloved hands settled on the back of your neck. “i hope you taste as good, too…”

you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his shaft, moving your hand from the base to his leaky tip, spreading the drops over his fat tip. he felt so warm, heavy and silky in your hand.

“g-god,” you heard him groan, feeling his cock twitch with every slow drag of your hand against him.

“feels good?” you asked shyly, a small smile playing on your lips.

“so good, sweetheart. keep going, i’ll make you feel good, too,” he breathily responded with a smirk. he slowly stepped forward until his cock, in all its beautifully flushed glory, was face to face with you. you continued to slowly jerk kento off, admiring the subtle reactions he was giving you.

he leaned over you, gloved hands sliding up your hot thighs. one of them was spreading your slicked folds while the other was circling your clit in time with your hand's movements. you let out a whine, your hips jerking against his hands before both hands left and a swift smack was delivered against your cunt.

“fuuuck!” you cursed, your hot breath fanning over kento’s twitching length.

“be patient and keep your noises down. while the ladies up front don't really care and i purposefully always put you last on my day, i still don't want people to hear how good i make your sweet little cunt feel. you wanna be good for any future encounters, right?” he scorned, resuming his agonizing pace against your clit.

you let out a whimper, keening at his teasing yet assuring tone. you slowly leaned upward, giving his leaky tip an uncertain lick. your efforts were rewarded with more of that slightly salty precum and a low praise from kento that had warmth spreading all throughout you. you opened your jaw a little wider, pulling him closer by his pant legs. he stumbled forward, willing his hips not to jerk into your warm, waiting mouth.

one of his thick gloved fingers made its way inside you, stretching your tight little hole. you ground your hips against it, lips closing around his tip. his heavy balls were dangling in your face and you reached up to gently fondle them like you'd seen pornstars do. a small curse reached your ears and kento’s hips jerked, pushing his cock further into your mouth.

you let out a squeak, muffled by his length while he added another finger into your tight heat.

“god, i wanna ruin you so bad, wanna make you take me and only me, ruin you for other men. such a sweet thing f’me,” kento panted, looking down at you taking half of him without a hitch. “you trained your throat or are you just naturally blessed?”

you moved your head and parted from him with a lewd gasp, tongue lolling out. “i tried, but my fingers aren't as big as yours, sir,” you whined, tongue circling around his tip and tasting the salty liquid dripping from it. your spit made his cock glisten in the fluorescent light and he watched, fingers still in your cunt. he was watching as you slid your lips over his length, spreading your spit and his precum all over his length and your face. his lips were parted, drool threatening to drip down. it was so lewd, so enticing to watch an innocent virgin like you become a whore with just a little attention and a cock in your face.

he sucked in a sharp breath to focus, feeling your hips move against the heel of his hand by themselves. he started moving his fingers in and out of you again, making sure to press his fingertips against your g-spot. you whimpered, feeling a warmth rush through you.

“o-oh god, please, feels so – ah!” you whined, voice rising in octaves when kento used his other hand to pinch your clit. you felt pleasure bloom in the pit of your stomach, the knot tightening dangerously fast. your head flew back against the cushion, eyes screwing shut as you squirmed against kento's strong arms.

“stop, ah, i-it feels weird!” you begged, whining as kento pulled his fingers out and left you hanging. he stepped back, his cock bobbing with every move.

“feels weird how?” he inquired, walking around the exam chair to take his seat between your legs. adjusting the height of the exam chair to have your pussy right at his face.

“like i was g-gonna pee,” you said, voice small with shame. kento gave you a grin, leaning down to press a few kisses on the inside of your knee.

“did it feel good?” he asked, kisses trailing down your thighs. kento watched as you gave him an embarrassed nod. he made his way towards your cunt, tongue laving over your skin.

“may i?” giving him another nod, he dove right in.

his sweaty gloved hands grabbed your thighs before kento licked a broad stripe from your hole to your clit. letting out a groan at your sweet taste, he started drawing circles around your clit, flicking it back and forth. your hands flew down to his hair, gripping the greying strands like your life depended on it. you let out a few huffs and whimpers, trying not to be too loud as kento devoured your sweet cunt. his ears registered the faint click of the front door, signaling that you were finally alone.

“c’mon, sweetheart. let it all out, it's just us now,” he murmured before his lips enclosed your sensitive nub. you could barely hear him through the rush of blood to your head but the noises that left you were music to his ears. every moan, every plea and whimper was saved in his brain to replay over and over again later on.

you tasted like sugar, like honey, like he was gonna develop a sweet tooth just for you. his eyes threatened to close at your heavenly taste but he needed, yearned to see your reactions. to see how good he made you feel. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, feeling that familiar knot form and tighten again. kento could tell by how your moans got louder and higher in pitch and how your thighs tried to close despite the stirrups.

“gonna cum on my tongue, darling? go ahead,” he encouraged, completely burying his face in your pussy now. nose nudging against your clit and tongue toying with your tight entrance.

you panted, hips moving against his face with no particular rhythm. “f-fuuuuck, s'good, gonna cum, sir, ‘m gonna cum!” you whimpered, pulling at his hair and eliciting a groan out of the older man. his gaze forced you to keep eye contact, his hooded eyes watching your every twitch and squirm. he was absolutely drunk off you, now that he's gotten a real taste he couldn't stop. he observed your eyes rolling back, hips bucking against his face and your lips parting in a silent scream. you gushed right into his awaiting mouth and he lapped it all up, licking his lips after. giving your cunt a few light smacks, he watched your hole twitch pathetically.

“god, you're the sweetest little thing. couldn't be happier you walked into my office,” you heard him mumble through your post orgasmic haze. he leaned back, wiping his face clean as he watched your pussy twitch with the aftershocks. he changed his gloves before gently patting your swollen cunt, observing how your thighs twitched in the stirrups and your breath got faster.

“doctor, please,” you breathlessly whined, panting like a dog. “wanna make you cum, too.”

kento almost passed out. his cock was twitching and turning even darker. his balls were so tight and full, so ready to empty themselves on or in you. you grabbed at him and keened when he interlaced his fingers with yours. his heart was bursting through his ribcage with adoration and he gave your smaller hand a squeeze.

“please, sir,” you pleaded with him, reaching one hand down to pull your shirt over your tits and squeeze them together to show them off. “use me as you please.”

your doctor let out a huff, cursing to himself. he leaned down to rub his nose against yours and relished in your glassy eyes looking at him like he just stole the moon for you. “you're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. you don't know what you're getting yourself into. what would your parents say about you giving your precious first time away to a man my age?”

he grinned at the whine that escaped your throat and finally pressed his lips against yours to swallow them. your eyes fluttered closed and your arm slid against his chest to grip his shirt. one of his hands grabbed your jaw, rubbing gentle circles against your burning skin. it wasn’t your first kiss, but it was with him and it made you feel like a giddy teenager having their first kiss again.

you tasted yourself on his tongue, along with the coffee he had earlier. his cologne made you dizzy with how it mixed with his natural comforting scent. his smell overtook your nostrils, his taste filled your mouth. his tongue slid over the seam of your lips and he easily dominated the kiss, urgent yet assuring. you felt yourself getting woozy from the kiss and you parted with a gasp.

“are you sure?” he whispered against your drool-slicked lips, wiping some of it away with a gloved thumb. “i-i haven't had sex in years and i had a vasectomy so you don’t need to worry. but i’ll do whatever, i don't care. just. please,” he breathed out, giving you a quick peck, “let me have you.”

you nodded, a tear running down your cheek. you gave him a big smile and let out a giggle. “yes, i am sure. i know you'll take good care of me. please take me, sir.”

as soon as kento had your consent, his lips crashed back into yours with a fervor. you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. your wobbly legs were gently lifted out of the stirrups and you felt the circulation return to your feet. your ankles crossed behind his lower back and you felt his leaking cock hit your folds with a wet slap.

kento whined lowly, grinding his hips against yours to feel your essence coating his length. his lips left yours to attach themselves onto your neck, kissing and sucking your hot skin. tiny gasps and pants left your lips, shaky hands trying to find anything to hold onto while kento searched for your most sensitive spots. your hips never stopped moving against his, the tip of his cock rubbing so deliciously against your swollen clit. his heavy balls tightened with every upward gyration of your hips.

“if you keep that up, i might orgasm too fast. slow down, darling,” kento mumbled against your skin, panting and licking a broad stripe up your neck. you whimpered, willing your hips to still and your hand sliding up the back of his neck to caress the stubble of his undercut.

“noo, wan’ you to cum inside,” you whined, back arching as kento’s tongue laved over your nipple, the saliva cooling your skin. the other one was occupied by gloved fingers rolling the sensitive nub between them. you felt his teeth graze your skin with the corners of his mouth turning upward.

“i will, don't you worry your pretty little head about that,” he teased, switching nipples and pinching your buds lightly to make you yelp. you could feel your wetness running down, a little puddle forming beneath your ass. kento made his way down your tummy, leaving a few possessing marks (not that anyone would see but you). just the thought of knowing he was the first to do this to you had him dripping all over your pussy.

he unraveled your legs around him, urging you to hold them open for him. your cunt glistened with your essence and he started eating you out like a starved man yet again. but this time, he slipped two gloved fingers into you, the other hand sliding across your tummy to press down slightly. you let out a whimper, head falling back against the cushion. his fingertips bullied that spongy spot in your walls, his lips were wrapped around your sensitive clit and the gentle pressure on your tummy only added to the unfamiliar pleasure forming.

“n-no, i’m gonna pee!!” you cried, tears now flowing down your cheeks, shame coursing through you.

“you won't, c’mon. let go f’me,” kento mumbled against your skin before his mouth attached to your clit again and his fingers picked up speed. “c’mon, make a mess, sweetheart.”

your noises picked up in volume and expletives. wet splashing emitted from between your thighs as kento leaned back and watched your cunt gush like a waterfall. he grinned, satisfied with his efforts as your pussy twitched and the steady stream lost its ferocity. you started shaking with aftershocks from that powerful orgasm, the grip on your own legs slipping away. when kento pulled his fingers out and started giving your pretty cunt a few love taps, you closed your legs immediately and tried pushing him away.

“such a pretty thing, did so well f’me. let me look at your pussy, hm? make sure everything's fine?” he teased, sliding his hands down your wet legs and stepping into the puddle of your desire. kento leaned over you, giving you a little forehead kiss and nuzzling his nose against yours. “did so well, so proud of you.”

you gave a weak smile at the praise, a lovesick warmth spreading through you. you leaned up to kiss him, swapping spit as his hands came up to caress your jaw.

he parted too soon for your liking, making you whine. his small smile and dark gaze made up for it. as he grabbed his fat throbbing length and slid it against your swollen folds, you instinctively bucked your hips away.

“’s sensitive, please, be careful– ah!”

your words got stuck in your throat when kento pushed just the tip in, a small sting erupting between your thighs despite all the work he did. it was such a tight fit, kento felt like he was suffocating. his lips were parted, hips pushing just the tightest bit forward, slowly edging away at the resistance of your pussy.

you whined and squirmed, weakly putting your hands against his chest to slow him down. but now that he got a taste of what you had to offer, he wasn't going to stop at just the tip.

oh no, kento wanted to mark you, breed you, make you his entirely. mind, body, and soul. he wanted to have you all to himself.

he didn't realize he was thinking out loud until his cock was inside you all the way to the hilt. his full balls tightened, his orgasm so, so close. and he was so deep, you could feel his tip kiss your cervix in the most deliciously painful way. he leaned over you, swallowing all your cries, wiping away your precious tears.

he stayed still for a while, letting your cunt mold into the shape of him, feeling it wrap around him like a vice.

“so full, oh god,” you panted, scrambling to find something to hold on to.

“does it hurt?” kento asked, worry evident in his voice. tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving little streaks behind. he gently wiped them away, placing gentle kisses all over your face. “you're taking me so well, sweetheart. take a deep breath.”

you shook your head to his question and he wrapped his strong arms around you, squishing you against his chest. his large hands settled on your lower back and he slowly moved his hips back. he watched intently where you were finally connected, a light sheen of arousal coating his whole length.

you whimpered, feeling your pussy clench around his tip and he shushed you, telling you to relax and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you clung onto him as he started thrusting slowly, his leaking tip nudging all the right spots and you felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure.

burying your face in his neck, you let kento move your hips towards his, feeling his balls hit your ass with every gentle thrust. you could feel him, smell him, hear him. it was nothing but him.

kento picked up his pace soon enough, chasing his own high. he was unbelievably drunk off you, you took over his mind just as much as he did yours and he never realised he was speaking his fantasies directly into your ear.

“gonna cum so deep, gonna fuck my cum inside you, gonna breed your little cunt ‘til you’re nice and round. yeah? would you like that sweetheart? fuck, you’d look so pretty with your belly all round and tits full,” he groaned, listening to the lewd squelches of your colliding sexes.

“what’cha think, hm? gonna make me a daddy?” he whispered before kissing your neck and fucking you even deeper.

you were absolutely wrecked at this point, mindlessly babbling and parroting everything he was saying. you never actually noticed what exactly he was saying, that he was exposing himself. you just wanted him to keep going. the familiar knot in your stomach tightened, only snapping when kento’s hand slid down between your sweaty forms to stimulate your swollen clit.

the force of your orgasm pushed kento's cock out of you. he watched with a lopsided grin as the fluids hit the already there puddle with a soft splash.

“o-oh god,” you whimpered, feeling your strength leave you. truthfully, you were teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, but feeling kento’s fat cock slide back into your tight heat brought you back to life. your hands were against his chest, holding onto him as his thrusts picked up speed and ferocity. his balls tightened with every clench of your cunt around him, his orgasm dangerously close.

“f-fuck, sweetheart. you're gonna milk me for all i have, aren't you? gonna breed this pretty pussy, hm?” he grunted, leaning back to take off his sticky gloves. coming back down to you, his large hands grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him with watery heavy eyes.

“you're gonna let me cum in your virgin pussy, darling? want me to cum inside, right?”

you nodded, brain fuzzy and foggy, mindlessly babbling: “yes, yes, please, sir! wan’ you deep inside!”

kento grinned devilishly, relishing in your little cockdrunk whines while you felt his pubic bone rub deliciously against your overstimulated clit. he was so, so deep, you could feel him in your throat, stealing all the air from your lungs.

his name (or rather his honorific) was the only coherent word leaving your lips as he gave just one, two, three more thrusts before you felt the warm splutter of his cum flowing right into your awaiting womb. he let out a strained groan, savoring the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him and milking him for all he’s worth.

he collapsed onto you, his weight comforting on top of you and you threaded your fingers through his hair soothingly. his hands slid around your back, pulling you closer to him. he pressed gentle kisses over your face and neck, tickling you with the damp tips of his hair. he praised you for doing such a good job, for taking him so well, for trusting him.

you felt your whole body flushing with warmth, frantic heartbeat slowing down and you cuddled into him. you looked over his shoulder to see the sun had already begun to set.

“o-oh, is it already so late?” you whispered, more to yourself than anything. kento turned his head, looking at the sunset with a low hum. “seems like it.”

he slowly pulled out of you with a wet squelch, watching in awe as a few drops of his seed spilled out of your clenching hole. he plugged it up with his fingers before quickly pulling up your panties, telling you to keep it in, be good. he wiped his cock clean, tucking it in still half hard. he could’ve gone many more times, prove that he didn’t actually get a vasectomy but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. it was bad enough that it was him, your healthcare provider, an older divorced man, who took your virginity in a cold, sterile exam room.

he’d make it up to you later.

you closed your eyes in bliss, trying to stay awake. you heard kento leave the room, letting some fresh air in to cleanse the stench of sex.

he came back right when you were on the verge of passing out to hand you a glass of water with a little straw. “here, let me sit you up.”

he took your hand, gently pulling you into a sitting position and tidied you up while you emptied the glass in record time. he put your shirt back on, smoothing it down and watching as your face cooled down.

“everything okay, sweetheart? are you in pain?” he asked, putting away the empty glass and taking your hands in his to press gentle kisses on your knuckles. you nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. kento smiled and helped you stand on your wobbly legs.

“i’m very proud of you, thank you for trusting me, sweetheart. let me take you home,” he offered, which you gladly accepted.

he didn't say which one, though.

(not that you'd mind either.)

tags: thank you to @bratbby333 and @bleach-your-panties for beta-reading and thank you to @sugulani for fueling my brainrot about him <3 @kentocidal @thebimbopalace @houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn

© kentophilia 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.

how job hunting has me feeling rn

kidnapper ghost who gets himself a spitfire of a girl, who immediately flinches and hisses when he strokes his fingers over her round hip and tells her that he likes how soft and pretty she is. he realizes very quickly that making her upset is his favorite thing in the world, that seeing her angry eyes well up with furious tears is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. all she wants is to fight, to make him like her less, to spite him, but she can’t. he immediately concludes that it’s his favorite thing in the world to fuck with her head, so no matter what she does, he tells her what a good girl she’s being for him.

when she somehow unties her restraints her praises her and calls her resourceful and clever, rewarding her with two fingers in her cunt. when she scratches and bites and bruises him, he chuckles and tells her he loves her spirit, that it turns him on to be marked as hers. if she spitefully goes limp and ragdolls while he fucks her, he coos about what a sweet, obedient girl he’s got and how jealous his mates will be when they hear about his pretty pillow princess. when she curses him out, tells him she hates him and wishes he was dead, he laughs and tells her that he loves a girl he can banter with, someone with a good sense of humor. there’s nothing she can do that he won’t praise wholeheartedly, and it eventually makes her break down sobbing from frustration. nothing she says or does seems to deter him from this obsessive, deranged brand of love that she is trying so hard to reject.

so when he kisses her softly after round who-even-knows-what-number of rough, animalistic fucking, and tells her in a soft voice that he loves her, that he’ll always love her, no matter what, it’s nothing short of a delight to him to watch her fall apart, sobbing and clutching at her hair, grieving the loss of freedom that she knows she’ll never ever get back. he can see in her eyes that she believes him, and that it makes her despair.

and god if that doesn’t get him the hardest he’s ever been in his life, despite already going multiple rounds that day

telling simon you have a breeding kink so now he's looking up where he can get his vasectomy reversed by tomorrow

nothing done by halves here

pussy throbbing just thinking about him

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ mdni - more vacation - smut

Simon left the windows open last night.

He’s not sure what possessed him to take such a risk. The vacation flat may be on the third floor, picked for the view over the beach and shoreline, but the height is not something that would thwart someone with an objective. A mission to kill.

A person like him.

He supposes he left them open because he wanted to watch the thin cotton curtains wave in the breeze. He wanted to smell the salt and hear the birds. He wanted to memorize the sunrise’s painting across your bare skin, the broad strokes and dappled splotches of dawn that turn you into a living canvas, a work of art. The prettiest one he’s ever seen.

You’re hardly covered by the sheet, on your side, one arm above your head, the other stretched out towards his side of the bed. You slept like a dead woman last night, gone to the world, lightly snoring and tossing in the small hours. He stayed up for most of it, tracing the slope of your nose with his fingers, counting your spots, birthmarks, moles, the whole lot. You’re usually a light sleeper home, your subconscious skimming just under the surface, ready to wake you at a moment’s notice for the baby, an instinctive driving you to hover on the edge of deep sleep.

He says he’s not sure what possessed him to let the sun in so early this morning, but deep down, he’s aware of the farce.

He wants to catch it in the light. The small angular sapphire on a gold band, the one he slipped on your ring finger last night while you were lost in your dreams. It’s a simple thing. Unremarkable even. Unobtrusive, as it should be. It doesn’t call attention to its size, or you, or who may have put it there, but it sits so naturally, like it’s always belonged.

He slipped it on six hours ago and well, he’s tired of waiting for you to see it for the first time.

He pulls you into your body, little spoon to his big, and tugs the hand wearing his ring into his, carefully shifting your knee forward. You sigh.

“Simon?” He kisses your shoulder, your neck.

“Go back to sleep sweetheart.” The thick of your ass is plump at his hips, hard cock settled in the cleft between your cheeks.

“What’re you doin’?” You yawn, still not able to really open your eyes, and he nudges at your temple.

“Just a little cold mama, there’s a bit o’ a draft in here.” He traces down your slit, pleased to find you already wet, probably from when he played with you clit earlier this morning. He hefts up on his arm, lining up with you before slowly pushing his way inside your body. You’re wet and warm and perfect, and he groans into your neck, weaving his fingers between yours. His thumb strokes over the stone in your ring, cock still and sitting in your wet pussy. You moan.

“Ah-“

“Feel good?”

“So full.” Your lashes flutter. He kisses your cheek.

“Be good for daddy, sweetheart. Keep those eyes closed, stay nice and still. Keep me warm.” He’s savoring the moment, dragging it out, practically edging himself, waiting for the second you truly wake up and realize what he’s done, what’s happening.

You whine. He slaps your ass, lightly, enjoying how you jiggle and ripple afterwards. The sun tired you out yesterday, effects still lingering, and he rubs a soothing palm over the swell of your ass, shushing you. “My sweet girl, look’t you. Keepin’ my cock warm, hungry for it even in your dreams.” You whimper, clenching, and he starts to move, dragging in and out of your heat, holding you too tight to his chest. Your mouth hangs open in a permanent gasp, fingernails sinking into his thigh.

“Oh my god.” He directs your hand onto the pillow in front of your face, his fingers locked on yours. Another thrust, deeper this time, enough to make you squeak, and then he whispers in your ear.

“Open your eyes mama.” His heart is a sharp staccato, frantic snare drum rolling through his head. He waits, and waits, slowing the roll of hips until your brow furrows, confused at the stall of his pace.

The curtains wave, picked up by a breeze, and the sun skitters across the foot of the bed, slowly spreading up the mattress, over where he’s sunken deep inside you, to the pillow, your face, your hand.

The sapphire sparkles in the morning light.

A beat. Then two. The blood pounding in his ears-

“What… Simon… wait… did you-“ you’re babbling, confused, stunned, and he pulls away, almost completely, before bludgeoning back inside your pussy until there’s no room left, and your back arches.

“That’s a ring, sweetheart. My ring, on your pretty little finger.” He thrusts again, snapping into you with a snarl. The ring is clouding his vision, the clutch of your pussy trying to milk him deep into your womb. “My ring, my babies, my wife.” The plural slips, future plans laid bare, but he distracts you with teeth to your shoulder, playing with your clit, persistent, frenzied pressure screwing your face up until your eyes are clenched closed and he’s fucking you so hard his hips slap against your ass with a shuddering, satisfying sound.

“Daddy- fuck. ‘m gonna come,” you pant, spine curling, and he cups your jaw. He’ll never not be able to look you in the face now, he’ll always need to see you, watch you, drink in every expression like they’re his salvation.

Maybe they are.

“Good girl, there it is, come for me, come all my cock.” You choke, you cry, keening in his arms, sweet kitten turned feral, and he bands a forearm around your chest as he rocks in and out, faster and faster, meeting you blow for blow, release spilling from him and into you, a reaffirmation of the bond you’ll carry, he’ll carry, for the rest of your lives.

“This is crazy.” You’re holding your hand up, staring at the gem glistening against the backdrop of turquoise sea. “You’re insane. You know that right?” He barks a laugh, tugging you down onto the blanket.

“I do know.” There’s sand in your hair, sand littered across your collarbone, sand on your nose. He feels insane right now, sitting by your side, studying the ring he gave you, his ring on your hand.

Fuck. It makes his cock hard. Fills that ache in his chest, the ever present one that he’s had since the day he saw you on the sidewalk with his baby wrapped to your chest. Wild instinct that demands he possess every single inch, every breath.

You’re the moon. The silver light on the desert in the darkest hours of the night. The one gentling the primal deep of the darkest waters, pushing and pulling them in a rapturous tide.

He’s the sea. You’re the moon.

He glances around the beach. Finally. He overheard you and Cami giggling about skinny dipping the other day, and latched onto your admittance that you’ve never done it, but always wanted to try. “We’re alone.” You blink.

“Okay…”

“Want to skinny dip?” Your eyebrows raise, and he gives you a small half smile. There’s a little excitement in your eyes, balanced with caution.

“What if someone sees?”

“No one will.”

“But if they do… you’ll be okay with someone else seeing me naked?” His vision ebbs in red.

“No one will see us.” He doubles down, and you snicker.

“I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t… if someone saw you naked they’d probably call the zoo for an escaped anaconda sighting or something, they’d-“ He rolls to his feet, snatching you by your waist, walking towards the tide. You shriek. “Simon! Put me down!” With one hand, he rips your bottoms away and pulls his down simultaneously, before flipping you into the surf, careful to keep his hands on you even as you go under.

When you come up sputtering, you’re trying so damn hard not to laugh, affixing fake outrage on your face like a mask that won’t stay.

You’re so fucking cute.

He tugs the top free, and then you’re both standing naked, floating in the crystal cool water, rolling with the waves. Your feet leave the ground with each peak, and Simon swims after you when you’re on top of one, wrapping you up in his arms and turning on his back.

“I’ll drown you.” You protest, but don’t attempt to wrestle free.

“Mama you couldn’t drown me if you tried.” The two of you float there, toes to the sky in the sea, his hand on your waist, tethered, until your fingers are wrinkled and he's kissed each and every one.

ghost character analysis

tw: spoilers from ghost mw2 comics, nsfw, dead dove do not eat, mature content.

this is pretty much a part 2 to ghost headcanons except with more lore and analysis (im still not sure if reboot ghost has the same backstory as the og ghost).

ghost is not a cold, calculated, ruthless man. maybe in a separate au or something, but theres a huge difference between ghost and simon riley. in fact, we need to understand that the reason he even chose ghost as a new name for himself is because of all that's happened to him. his family got killed, he got tortured by roba, and had to eliminate many men on his own. before that he was simon, not ghost. in the comic he literally calls the child hostages he was saving ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’. hes not that mean and cold yall

we know that PTSD does shit to it's victims, ghost lost his entire family and had no one. think of it as a coping mechanism to have a new name to be known as.

ghost is a ruthless killer. simon is just some guy.

ghost sets himself to an incredibly high standard of discipline. i think it's intuitive that military boys will need to be punctual and organized to some degree, but ghost takes this to a whole other level. considering his father's abusive behavior (explained by his disturbing statements said to simon, is a drug addict, and beats simons mom) his home life was likely chaotic as a child.

in the mw2: ghost comic (issue #3) it specifically stated the following: "discipline, precision, control. these are what riley built his whole life on. break those down and the dark stuff begins to ooze out..." again, this is probably a form of trauma response to his childhood.

so what does this lead to? well firstly, this probably means his room is incredibly tidy and organized (monotone design i know :,c).

would never in his life touch drugs. this is a promise he made to himself.

also kinda proves that ghost aint a reckless guy. he thinks things through before doing it.

ghost isn’t that hypersexual. theres no way of knowing his history with women, but i like to think ghost is not that horny 24/7 and needs a fuckbuddy. in the mw2 comic, he was on a mission and was in an area full of prostitutes (wasn’t actively on duty, but on his way) when they tried to hit on him he politely rejects one of them, and later tells them to fuck off😀 so yea contrary to popular belief i dont think he really enjoys one night stands or the idea of being entertained by random women. in fact, i hc he might actually be a virgin or just a really low body count.

ghost is a feminist!😁 (misandrist too). ok let me reword that, ghost doesnt like men and respects women. one of the reasons why he doesn’t want to be around prostitutes and do one night stands (his father killed a hooker in front of him, very traumatic) is because he thinks the concept of quick, casual sex is not good for society and dilutes the value of meaningful relationships. but also, remember the discipline, precision, control thing? its apart of his principle. but also, in the comic, sparks (soldier he worked with) knocked out and attempted to rape a woman, ghosts literally looked disgusted and called the police (also why he’d never do that himself, i dont get the hcs that say he does). ghosts seen how his dad treated his mom and absolutely hates abusers. anyways onto misandry—i think ghost internally thinks men are violent and disgusting (ghosts would choose the bear over the man, even though hes a man) mainly because throughout his military career majority of the bad stuff hes seen was done by men, so hes much more relaxed in a room of women vs man. ghost thinks his dad is the epitome of pure evil (canon! he said this to his therapist). this doesn’t mean hes scared or hates all men tho!

ghost isn’t close with 141… including soap. now before you attack me let me explain. sure, he trusts them to some degree, but i dont think they naturally just hangout when they’re not deployed. in the end we need to understand they are SAS soldiers, they are working a real job that mainly consists of them shooting and dismantling others. considering ghosts betrayal in the past (in the comic, a few soldiers ghost previously worked with killed his entire family 😢) he isn’t gonna just trust his teammates because theyre his teammates. im also pretty sure they all live in different cities while not deployed, while also considering the fact that tf141 probably all want to separate their job from their personal lives, which includes co workers. but onto soap, i dont think him and ghost have a deep brotherly relationship. but i think they care about each other, but exchanging some dad jokes and bantering doesn’t mean they’re suddenly soulmates or brothers. think about it… you and you’re co worker joke around sometimes, never hangout outside of work, and now people are shipping you and calling the two of you besties. makes no sense.

ghost is extremely patriotic. in the comic (i reference this way too much but theres SOOO MUCH LORE i recommend reading it) ghost tells his teammates the reason for joining the military: queen and country, right after 9/11. he also said “the world has changed”. interestingly enough army enlistment did actually skyrocketed after 9/11 attacks, ghost was among them. he probably thought ww3 was about to happen, or that ‘theres no more peace’ or whatever. i hc being obsessed with soccer too lmao and getting mad if english teams dont win. also his playful banter with johnny “get us a tea?”. probably very proud of his british heritage.

ghost doesn’t have much friends. hes a really, reallyyyyy lonely guy. i hc him as an introvert in the first place, but trust issues make this worse. in the comic, he was literally in the newspaper for killing his family and then killing himself (he didnt, he was framed that way tho) so its likely most of his formers friends probably think hes dead. ghost likely got some sort of amnesty or exemption from the military after knowing he didn’t actually kill his family, but whats in the news stays true to the public. even if he does have friends he probably doesn’t share feelings with them or form a long term bond.

ghost is extremely cynical. this is obvious tbh, but i think ghost believes hes going to die in the middle of a battlefield, shot or stabbed, a painful death, body left to rot for weeks, and no one to remember him. just like that. and he accepts that fact too.

ghost isn’t a picky eater. growing up in an abusive household where his parents couldn’t hold a stable job, he had to eat what there was. some days he settles for cheap beans and toast and when people call him out for it, he tells em to fuck off😀

ghost is emotionally fucked up, probably kind of depressed. i mean this guys been through hell: got sa’d, buried alive, had to dig through underground dirt and worms with a jawbone, tortured in horrible ways, had his entire family killed, abusive dad, and the weight of his grey morales because he killed lots of people as a soldier. wow! would you look at that list, itd be more strange if he wasn’t emotionally fucked up after was has happened😅. even when tortured, seeing his family dead, ghost was never shown to have cried in the comic. i hc hes emotionally numb. however, i do think hes emotionally MATURE and able to communicate his emotions, but hes still emotionally fucked. for example a scene where he was talking about his experience with roba (guy who tortured ghost) and ghosts father to a therapist. i think ghosts may be traumatized, but this doesn’t stop him from attempting to get help and communicating how he feels and thinks about this world.

BUT WHAT ABOUT AN S/O???

i think ghost is the guy to not have one in the first place. obviously. but i lowkey think if he had one and really liked them, he would commit. in fact i find it hard to imagine hes a player or isn’t serious about relationships. when his brother tommy got addicted to drugs and fucked up his life, simon quit the military until tommy got 100% better and married. yup. he stayed to help him recover, for years. thats how loving and committed this man is🥹🥹.

more random headcanons:

simon prefers dogs over cats because dogs are loyal and stay with you until the end (stereotypically)

hates snakes and spiders

probably wouldn’t do 50/50 on dates, he pays!

avoids saying manchester slang when deployed

drinks and smokes. not always. he’s disciplined but he still does that stuff.. hes a british guy in his 30s whos kinda depressed, grew up with adults around him smoking 24/7, whatd you think😀😀 (its canon that most of tf141 smoke anyway)

listens to 80’s rock music. its canon that his mom enjoys the band siouxsie and the banshees :)), he probs does too

shaves his beard

is actually confident hes not bad looking. dude, hes 6’2, in shape with a jawline🙄

simon has a scorpio moon, i know he does, i heard people with scorpio moons means their mother had a hard birth/pregnancy and it makes sense to me. also a libra sun maybe???? he’s a big justice guy i feel

going by his birthday on historicawiki he’s a Scorpio Sun and Cancer Moon (jfc the “emo” jokes were not jokes!!). his chart is ALL water and fire *sweats nervously*

but you’re on to something bc Scorpio and its aspects or House placements can indicate strong ties to death, difficult birth, or rebirth 👀👀👀 Scorpio is INTENSE!!! I just KNOW this man has the most astronomically fucked up Eighth House (death/transformation) 😭 of all time… and Twelfth House (secrets, psychic power) and Fourth House (family, home life) 😭😭😭

other thoughts:

-Sag Venus sextile Scorpio Pluto. you’re never getting out of his bed #rip. combined with his Sun, we can safely assume that sex/intimacy is everything to him. it’s his most natural form of communication. it’s his main drive, he seeks the power from sex that he can easily wield over others

-Sagittarius Venus = when he loves you he wants to crawl inside your brain and live there. combined with all his strong Scorpio placements you are simply Not Allowed to keep anything from this guy lol sorry

-who headcanon-ed the Ghost distribution system?? like he’s a cat? more correct than we could ever know

-plus a Capricorn Mars? square Pluto?

(tolerates it from ONE person and that respect goes to our Libra stellium king John Price 🙂↕️)

-surprisingly level-headed, I’ll be damned

-the stars also agree that he’s a jokester!

-wouldn’t mind being submissive! is a romantic at heart! unfortunately he has too many trust issues to even consider it :(

-now you might THINK his Saturn is wrecking havoc on his chart— and it is, but we’ll get to that later— but for those who persevere through hardship, Saturn rewards you many many many times over

-Chiron (minor asteroid, healing) has gotta be working overtime

-that secret psychic power, btw: Simon has the power of optimism. I shit you not! push him far enough and he will bend and reshape his reality with the power of hope. I CANNOT make this shit up.

porn link

this is truly how i imagine simon to fuck you. a heavy hand smothering your moans; his hips punching his cock in, measured strokes hitting deep; dragging his hands along your body, feeling it underneath his touch; before tugging you closer to him, positioning you in the easiest way for him to fuck into. but, most of all, the silence from his end—a hunter. an apex predator.

your whole body shakes, pain and pleasure still mixing because it is all so overwhelming. so daunting. simon fucks you like a man starved; like your body is nothing but for him to use.

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ mdni - sappy smut

“Wow.”

Simon sets both bags on the floor, forgetting them in favor of sealing himself around you, arms around your waist. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been here before. Didn’t realize it was so pretty.” The ocean is turquoise, a sparkling blue green reflecting the sun’s midday peak. His lips graze your cheek, and you giggle. “I still can’t believe we’re on holiday.”

“You deserve it.” You turn in his arms, nose to his neck.

“You think Orion is okay?” He rubs your back, trying to soothe your worries. You’d been a little apprehensive when he originally mentioned going on a quick getaway, nervous about leaving the baby, but Gaz and Cami insisted they were up to the task, and he finally coaxed you out the door.

It was much needed. You were bone weary, and with the team set to leave again in another week or two, he was desperate to get some quality, alone time.

Logistically, it took a lot. You’d need to pump this entire time to keep your supply up, not to mention you’re still adjusting to your new medication for POTS. Simon had to do extensive work to ensure the security of this town, evaluating each rental and placing endless phone calls, painstakingly combing through each one until he found something perfect.

“Orion is fine. Gaz and Cami have it all under control, you know that. We’ll FaceTime with him tonight, okay?” You nod, still burrowed against him. When you finally pull away, it’s with a coy smile.

“Can we go to the beach?”

Simon leads your past Porthcurno beach with a promise of something better, a secluded craggy cove he knows will have almost no one on it. You gasp when it comes into view, more brilliantly blue water meeting white sand, framed with dark cliffs. As he suspected, only a few other people dot the beach. It requires some effort, a steep descent on uneven ground, but he holds you steady, keeping your hand on his shoulder as he leads. If you slip, you’ll only fall right into him, cushioned at his back instead of the sharp rocks.

“Oh my god…” you trail off, dropping your backpack in the sand. “Simon this is… it's perfect.” He laughs. It’s so easy with you. To laugh. To smile. He’s never felt lighter, staring at you in the sun, honeyed heat in your eyes as you peek up at him through lush lashes. You slide your shorts down, cheeky purple bikini bottoms barely covering your ass, and then shuck your t shirt, revealing the matching top. It's skimpy, to say the least, velvet skin and curves on full display, full breasts and hips, soft belly all accentuated by the lilac hue of your bathing suit. Your cheeks swallow the stretchy fabric, and he thinks about hooking his fingers between them and digging it out. His cock hardens, nearly solid and aching for you. He's already in heaven, could believe he's died and reached some sort of twisted afterlife where he doesn't end up in purgatory, and he searches for the side of your bathing suit, tugging on the strap.

"C'mere mama." You read the husk in his voice, the heavy weight of his lids, and shake your head.

"I wanna swim," you're coy with your smile, fingers tucking into the waistband of his trunks, "take me swimming daddy."

The water is warm. He's almost resentful to it, wishing it was a little cooler, enough that you would cling to him more, searching for heat.

Still, he's not complaining. Watching you wade into the water and float with the rhythm of the sea, it's enrapturing. Intoxicating. Better than bourbon. You frolic in it, beaming, carefree and weightless, heaviness of motherhood left behind for a moment, a moment where you're just you... and he's just some poor sod who's never deserved you in the first place. You've piled your hair on top of your head, wet tendrils sticking to your neck, framing your face, shrieking and giggling each time your lifted from your feet with the crest of a wave.

Finally, you come to him. Wrap your legs around his waist and heave your arms onto his shoulder, smiling in the sun. Your skin is brine soaked and glistening, wet and slick in his hold, and as the ocean rolls the two of you together in its sway, he goes with it, using the motion to press himself against you. Everything about you is his undoing, every breath you draw filling him with life, the widening of your eyes as you feel the heft of his cock pulsing between your legs, the nervous glance you give the shore at the few people bathing in the sun. His fingers trace your belly and dip into the side of your suit, swirling down your slit and then pressing your clit. You gasp into his mouth, but the water washes away your natural desire, and he pulls away.

"Si..."

"There's a nook over there," he sucks a mark into your neck, licking at the taste of your skin, the droplets splashed across your shoulder, "it's sandy, and sheltered."

"Oh." Your eyes widen. "B-but there are people... on the beach."

"They won't see. Or hear. The ocean will drown it all out." You gnaw on your lip until he places his thumb there instead. "Y'trust me?"

"Yeah."

He lays you on your back in the sand. The rock arches up like a cathedral, hallowed ground, and he takes his time pulling your bathing suit away, tugging the bottoms down to your knees, tits falling free once he unstrings your top. They're too tempting, round and full, your head tipping back when his mouth closes over your nipple, warmth spilling across his tongue.

"Feel this?" He unfolds your hand and presses it against where he's hard in his trunks. "Feel how bad I want to be inside you, honey?"

"Fuck, y-yeah."

"You're gonna take it all for me mama. Jus' like last time." You nod frantically, and he takes a quick moment to strip, palming your thighs and then spreading them open.

You seize when he burns his face in your pussy, tongue circling around your clit, one finger, then two, working themselves inside, stretching, scissoring, trying to get you ready. You thrash and moan, shuddering when the orgasm rushes through your blood, legs closing around his head until he pulls away, still holding you wide.

His entry is gentle and slow. Fingers laced together above your, a holy crown like you deserve, kissing away the crinkles of discomfort around your eyes and even the tears trailing down your cheeks.

"Jesus." You moan, and he glances down, breaking out in a full body shiver when he sees he's barely halfway there. He remembers how it was the first time, in your bed, in the moonlight, the way you strangled him, shoved him into his orgasm far before he was ready, and though your body has changed from having his baby, you've never been more beautiful, and never felt so good. "Big, Si," your brow creases, and you whimper, "you're too big-"

"Y'can take it. You were made for me." He presses against your belly as he sinks to the hilt and you mewl like the kitten you are, sweet in his arms, fingers clawed into his shoulders. His nose drags down your cheek, thrusting slowly, easy pressure stretching you out on his cock. "How's that feel?"

"F-fuck, it's... good, so good." Your lashes feather closed, and he shakes his head.

"Keep your eyes open, mama. Keep them on me." He has to see every refraction of light, every kaleidoscope of emotion and pleasure in your gaze, the overload between the two of you as he fucks you deep and fills you with come.

He wants to give you another baby so badly it burns, mark you, fill you, watch you grow heavy with his child, be there for it all this time-

But that’s not for tonight. Tonight is not about the claim. It’s about love. Showing, telling, promising. Branding vows into your skin, burying himself so deep your body never fits another, giving you his last name, keeping and loving you forever. More than a claim, even more than a promise. Something he’ll never walk away from. Someone he’d burn the world for, walk to hell and back, pulling you behind him, eyes fixed on the horizon.

His life, his past, drops like a stone to the bottom of the sea through his mind, every trial, every loss, all now serving a greater purpose, teaching a grander lesson, though no less painful. Love. Something that used to be so distant he hardly knew its name, and now it’s everywhere. The torture, the loss of his identity, his existence, even his name, all of it once lost, only to be found by you.

He’d rip his heart out and lay it at your feet if he could.

It’s slow. He’s never been particularly patient outside of work, but for you, he tries to make it last forever. Tastes each syllable of your moans and cries, paints your body with his sweat and spit. You yield for him, bloom for him, learn him the way he learns you, and as the two of you chase the end together, his face hovers just above yours, gentle fingers as a necklace under your neck.

“I love you.” He murmurs it, and your eyes shine. “I love you mama. You’re mine. Til death.”

At the precipice, the moment before the two of you shatter, your forehead meets his, you share his breath, his words, his life. It’s now yours too, intertwined like the dna stitched with yours, and when you come, the only words on your lips are a vow of your own.

“I love you too.”

posting WIPs before vacation. got a whole load of nothing queued.

I love your personality

thank you! its pieces of everyone ive ever loved

hybrids. wool shearing. manipulation. brief cannibalism. referenced breeding. female anatomy.

farmer! price and his sheep girl. the most special of the flock — not only because you’re all woman beneath those patches of wool, or because your floppy ears and curly fringe compliment your face so well, but because you’re so docile and sweet and mouldable under his hand. give into his will better than any human can, eyes shiny and dumb. trusting, when he leads your friends away to the slaughter. and when he collects you afterward, sleeves sticky with blood, to feed you bits of juicy meat on his lap.

though you’re a vegetarian, why would you refuse him? he’s the best at taking care of you.

like during the draw of spring, frost thawing into beds of brown to make for mud that mats your wool. he’ll shear you last but most tenderly; hose you down in his yard, cooing as you bleat in the cold, and run the tool expertly along your trembling flesh. beneath your arms. around your neck. clipping so close to your ears that the sound scares you, and you struggle mildly in his embrace, which does nothing to shake him or the firm cage wrought around your limbs.

the shears trek downwards, your legs forcefully pried apart to expose your fluffy pussy and taint to be groomed. layers of wool stripped from you in pragmatic precision. his fingers do not wander as they shave your vulva, conforming smoothly to your plump bottom. working over your groin. though you wish them to, crying stupidly when he twists your swollen clit to make sure he gets the curls nested at its base.

but he’s the best at taking care of you, of all his animals, so he does not acquiesce and feed you his cock like you so beg. ain’t mating season yet, little lamb, he hums, tucking you into bed after moisturising your softened skin. for as long as you’re naked, wool-less, he lets you sleep indoors. on a real mattress, and not the hay one that would be bound to scratch you in the most vulnerable of places. you love the spring and summer months, if only for that.

(though the prospect of mating season ignites your cotton-tail, priming you for the crisp encroach of autumn. you know that, as the most special — his favourite — he won’t pair you with any old ram. none are good enough, he’ll reason. no seed ripe enough to fatten you up, but his.)

Hey so it's come to my attention that the Creators of Disco Elysium want you to share the game and not give the company who took over and fired them (illegally)?) any profits off of their ideas and work, and I originally joined tumblr 2 weeks ago when that post was going around about the Steam sale and how you should [Skull and Crossbones flag] it instead.

So.

in light of that.

Check the replies/notes of this post :)

I was informed that posts containing links in them aren't findable in the search so i'll just.... drop a link in a seperate reboot :)

first things first though, copy this key:

q4-EJ9G2DV7MYYI-Vs0KdQ

Yes I did put the video at .25 speed just to stare at Ghosts lower body in those jeans as he kills two men. I am only human.

hold up, I wanna hear that miniature hobbyist ghost au. (totally not bc I obsess over making little dolls and miniature dioramas for the dolls) care to crack open that can of worms?

Ghost is a miniature hobbiest who is well known for his (autistic) attention to detail as well as the monotone(deep and sexy) voice he uses for his extremely limited voice overs. His videos are edited incredibly ameteurish, but the actual content speaks to years of dedication. He will occasionally drop the most devestating lore in an Instagram caption showcasing a seemingly benign model. (No one recovered from the tiny birthday cake model only captioned with "would've been 10 today")

He is also, notably, obsessed with one doll hobbiest. His likes on Twitter are filled with their posts, and he comments on every instagram/tiktok/Tumblr post they make. Very niche bjd sculptor that makes one of a kind dolls purely as a hobby and posted one time about how they had to use their body as a reference to get certain proportions right, which had Ghost shelling out too much money for a doll he didn't previously care about, just so he could see you naked(or see the doll naked at least). He's a full on creep, stalking your private accounts for every selfie he can find and screenshotting them to add to his collection. His absolute dream is to have you buy some of his minis and display them with your dolls, and he's even made some in the right scale just to try and tempt you when you complained about never finding one specific prop on etsy(it didn't work).

You do not know this man exists. Somehow that makes you hotter to him.

YOU hates terfs

love me some big mean simon but love me some big INSECURE overthinker simon even more. simon who's so big and awkward and out of place, certain he's not deserving of such a sweet sweet girl like you and somehow still gets to dig his grubby fingers into you, bruising you like the soft skin of overripe peaches, sinking his teeth into you. you're so smitten with him meanwhile he's convinced that he's the scum of the eart, undeserving to be the dirt beneath your feet. dreamy sigh.

my favorite version of ghost is when the author describes him having a fucked up face, broken nose improperly set, chipped and missing teeth, scars everywhere, cleft lip, acne+acne scars. grabby hands. gimme

I just think physical affection would fix me

Yeah, look, I’m alone. I’ve been alone so long, I… I like it. You know, I hide in it.

@andromedaa-tonks requested 🍂 FRANK CASTLE portrayed by Jon Bernthal in DAREDEVIL | THE PUNISHER

i think simon “ghost” riley would love me because i would be so easy to clicker train