tw: problems with portraying simon’s accent accurately but doing it anyways, p i v obviously, ovulation, reader shy af and can’t talk, let me know if i missed any
you caved and called him in he middle of the day. he picked up after a beat, sounding a little worried.
“yeah?”
your stomach flipped at the grittiness of his voice. he probably hasn’t spoken to anyone today at all for how he sounds like he just woke up.
“hi-i,” you smiled sheepishly, “si, when are you going to be home?” your usual brusque manner of speaking to men forgone at your predispositions today. look at you, all giddy just because you hear him breathe into the phone static.
“‘round seven.”
you audibly whined at that but hoped the crackles of the phone line hid it. that’s too long, it’s only quarter past three pm now.
“something up?”
something was indeed up. besides those horrible cramps, the slashing and poking pain that is killing you the whole day, the dampness between your thighs wouldn’t stop annoying you. you’ve tried everything. toys, fingers, humping a pillow, everything. it wasn’t satisfying. a persistent thought nudged at the corner of your conscience. if si was here you wouldn’t struggle so much.
after a while you just gave up on finishing what you’ve started and curled on your bed, annoyed ball of blankets and pillows. thank god you have your work-from-home-day today.
“no no, i-it’s okay… just need to see you.”
you were mortified. another full 3 hours and then some till he can help you.
“honest?”
you debated it for a while but what is the harm in telling him anyway? he’s a good roommate, he always helps you when you ask.
“no, i-i mean, yeah…,” you stumble over your words, “i just need your help with something.”
you can’t bring yourself to say ‘i really need you to fuck me’.
“wha’s up, bird?” it’s somewhere past seven o’clock in the afternoon. he beelined straight for his bedroom the moment he set foot in your home, where he finds you curled up. his permanently sad eyes look worried, white lashes framing the most beautiful blue oceans you’ve ever seen, eyebrows cinched together.
look at you, all putty just because your roommate has a habit of calling you petnames.
you whimper something about ovulation cramps and show to your belly, pressing on the spot where it’s the most intense.
“here?” he places his hand over yours, warm palm engulfing yours, “i’m sorry. can a massage help?”
“maybe…” you whimper again, your quivering voice just a tone above whisper. look at you, all tingly just because you roommate has a habit of being a gentleman.
“cmon, let me help you.” the warmth of his palm is comforting and you want more of it so you remove your hand and you let him help you. simon puts intermittent pressure on your abdomen which surprisingly works wonders and eases the tense muscles. you relax into it after a while, shoulders falling, letting a big shaky breath out.
“there you go,” he kneads your belly, “better?” a husky whisper burns your ear.
“mhm,” you’re not responsible for what your hips are doing.
“mhm?” he mocks you. the bastard.
“can i help you with anything else, love?” you can hear the smirk on his lips, his fingers still pressing into your abdomen and tracing little clockwise circles, “anything at all?”
you hope that continuing to grind on him would tell him. you hope that the slyness in his tone has good footing behind it. because you, in fact, are a horny mess and words vaporized off your brain’s surface when you felt the dip of the mattress as he laid down behind you and crossed one arm over you. as he whispered, nosing the sensitive space behind your ear, your neck, the ball of your jaw. as he started to grind his bulge into your ass, matching your movements, sharp breaths escaping him all the while.
you feel your pussy lips part, opening just the slightest bit, when you angle your ass towards him even more.
“s-si…,” your broken whisper slid from your throat.
“what is it?”
oh he wants to tease you to death. you whimper, annoyed at him. he still hugs you tightly to his chest and kneads your plush form.
“tell me,” his tone is soft but demanding. he understands your desires, he just needs the vocal approve, “i will do what you need me to. you just need to tell me, love. so, what d’ya want?”
“si, i… can you, please… i need your dick,” is all that you manage. pathetic, but it is what it is.
“you need my dick,” he hums into the lobe of your ear, “where precisely, sugar?”
this is so not fair. he meets you with a push of his hips once again.
you take his hand that rests on your belly and pull it down on your mons.
“here… please…,” you tell him, politely.
his hand travels couple inches down and cups your clothed pussy, the breezy, cold material of your shorts a stark contrast to the heat of his palm.
“want me to fuck you?” he rasps, “need me to fuck you, don’t ‘cha, love?”
he doesn’t wait for your attempt at a comeback, finally.
a breath catches in your throat as his hand slips under your panties and parts your folds baring your puffy pussy to the cold air. you feel his finger on your slit, gathering the slick wetness that pooled at your hole.
“already s’ wet,” he spreads your slick all over your puffy folds, “trouble making yourself come, little one?”
“needed your help…” you pathetically admit.
simon freezes for a split second. he didn’t expect you to call him while he’s at work, and certainly didn’t expect you to be so forward. he usually helps you with your inconveniences, like the true gentleman that he is, whenever you come up to him. that is, usually, late at night, crawling into his bed without knickers on. he always gets you to vocalize your need before he starts anything though. today, you just seem to be in a frenzy.
“trouble, tha’s what you are,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, and slowly pushes one finger in, and you lose it. this is so much better than your fingers.
you still, forgetting to breathe. you want to feel every inch of his thick digit inside of you, curling, prodding your spongy spot, dragging in and out.
somewhere in between the numb buzz of pleasure and the slick sounds that come from beneath his palm your brain conjures up a sentence. you turn your head and part your lips.
“can you kiss me please?” you manage to look up at him through half-lidded eyes, heavy with want.
he chuckles and lowers his head. your dry lips graze his, and as soon as his hot wet tongue makes its way into your mouth your eyes roll back, brain falling into a foggy bliss. this is what you needed - to feel his taste again, to drink him in.
he slowly kisses you while his fingers pump into you, the ball of his palm kissing your clit.
he releases your mouth with a wildly inappropriate wet sound, grinning at you.
“‘course i can, love.”
he’s going to be the death of you.
you are left laying there, mouth open, panting hot short breaths as he suddenly removes his fingers.
they were not enough anyway.
“now,” he said with an urgency, your eyes widening at him licking his fingers, “would you tell me how many orgasms do you need?”
“i don’t know, si! please just… please, put it in…” you whine, the way he’s prolonging your suffering not even slightly funny.
he chuckles again.
“yes ma’am.”
finally you feel him shift to release his cock from his pants, you hear him spit and slather it all over the shaft. simon holds your leg up by your thigh as you’re still laying on your side, his big fingers indenting your flesh, and your abdomen muscles tighten in anticipation when the tip of his cock first prods at your entrance. you go slightly cross-eyed as he slowly slips the head of his cock inside you, the pressure of him alleviating your pain.
“fuck, s’ tight, doll,” he sounds strangled.
the stretch makes your brain go numb, your leg completely slacking in his hold, your head falling back onto the pillow. simon always had that effect on you.
“you ok?” he stops.
“yes, yes, please, simon… don’t stop, please,” you babble out.
“we can do tha,” he nods and grunts, rolling his hips into you while you whine and struggle to keep your conscience.
when his hips are flush with yours, he stills, letting you adjust to his size.
please…” you squeak, mind frenzied with want.
“patience,” he orders, “i don’t wan’ t’ hurt you.”
“you won’t, i’m okay… feels good,” you try to get him to move with whatever hip movement you can muster. he really is taking every chance he gets to annoy you.
simon huffs and shakes his head, you feel his chest heave behind you and his fingers tighten on the flesh of your thigh. his resolve is not endless, you realize. you shimmy a little closer to him, so you can feel more of his skin on yours.
“please?”
your hips violently arch at the first roll and you keen. he sets a pace - shallow thrusts so the most sensitive parts of you can feel the most drag of his cock.
he’s being deliberately slow, as he always is, but tonight it might just make your blood boil.
he ruts into you until your walls start to flutter.
“you have to tell me when you come,” his gritty demand rings in your ears. he slowly brings you to your orgasm.
“i’m gonna…” you breathlessly cannot finish a sentence.
“are you?”
“yes, yes, yes,” you sob, “gonna come!”
simon holds you close while you shudder, slowly driving his cock in and out of you, drawing out your peak, panting into your ear as your walls flutter around him.
“good girl,” he says, slipping his cock out of your heat.
“no, no, wait!” you sound so disappointed, “didn’t want you to pull out.”
simon chuckles and rolls you over to your back, situating himself between your legs.
“feel empty?”
“uhuh,” you nod and grab at his thighs and abdomen trying to get him to be closer, opening your warm soft thighs so sweetly for him.
“don’t worry, love, won’t be for long.”
your gaze darts to his, dark desire and tainted bliss dimming the light blue shade of his eyes. you shudder when he slaps you puffy overstimulated pussy with his slicked heavy cock, tip red and swollen.
“si!” you squeak.
“sensitive?” he asks with a grin, already knowing the answer.
when he presses inside, into you, he lets a moan rip from his throat. you see the muscles on his abdomen rippling under the tight freckled skin and your conscience finally gives out.
“way better with you under me,” he blurts out.
you agree. so much better. so much deeper.
he pushes and pushes and when his hips are flush with yours he settles there, the heavy weight of his body pressing into yours. you love when he goes slow and deep, thumping your slick red pussy lips.
your ankles tremble. despite the lack of control you still want to have the visual of his cock plowing into you.
“so good, si…”
“you feel good, doll,” he has the brain to return your compliment, always does. you don’t know how it is possible but you’re blushing. look at you, look what a compliment does to you. he probably doesn’t even notice it.
but simon does. he does notice all the obscure little things.
he smiles crookedly, dips his head, low on his forearms and gives you a kiss on your cheek. the action almost undoes your tiny mess of a heart.
“i need you to come on my cock again,” the words come punctuated with tight breaths. it’s not so much a request as it is a demand. it’s also a promise. you clenched around him, your pussy even more shy than you are.
he winces when your second orgasm hits you, and holds you by your hips, unceasingly fucking you through it.
“come inside me.”
the words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. his hips falter and break the pace.
“tha’s not fair, you know what this phrase does t’ me,” he tries to save his crumbling sense of control.
“please, please, simon”, you beg him, unbothered of your own shame, “need to feel it, need you to come inside.”
“i can, pretty girl? can pump this pretty pussy of yours full of my come? make you forget your name?” he grunts out, every question punctuated by increasingly harder thrusts.
you nod eagerly. “yes, please. i want it.”
“fuck, doll,” he draws out. he latches his mouth onto your neck and starts pounding into you like it’s the last time he’ll have your body to toy with. it’s not.
you relish in the moment when he starts quietly whining, the sounds of his pleasure only driving yours into the next universe.
he snakes one hand between your bodies and starts flicking your clit, slick with your pleasure. your body thrums under his hands, tingles zapping through you like lightning.
“one more time, doll,” simon rasps, “i need you to come with me. can you do tha’ f’ me?”
“yes, si,” you sob, “please, i’m gonna come!”
your legs fall open further and your tongue falls out of your mouth, completely unsure if you want to receive his seed in your throat or your pussy. let him decide.
his brain short-circuits at the sight, and before he knows better he settles two fingers into your mouth. your tongue immediately swirls around them and you suck on his digits like it’s his slick cock making the inside of your mouth so hot.
you come hard, shuddering, chanting for him to come inside, your vision escaping you as you feel him plug your pussy with his hot seed.
when the panting calms down he rests comfortably atop you, and you are content with it. you don’t want him to pull out.
you both are so far gone.
he lazily laps at your neck and jaw, sucks your earlobe in, nips at your collarbone. kneads your plush hips, denting the sweet flesh. slowly makes you forget your name.
“almost bit my fingers off,” he smiles into the soft spot behind your ear.
you swat at him, granting him your most colorful laugh yet. simon is giddy for he is the only one here to behold you as you are.
“thanks,” you whisper into his hair, “doesn’t hurt anymore.”
he gives your hip a firm squeeze.
“always happy to lend a hand for my sweet girl.”
“oh, that, you are,” you giggle.
contentment swirls comfortably in your body. as you’re laying in his bed, under his weight, you realize you won’t ever ask anyone else for help. you both know of it.
i do not consent to feeding ai with my works so shoo the fuck away
Summary: Pepper wakes up and is in for the ride of her life as her team works out a way to help her.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, sex pollen, fingering, dub-con/non-con (under the influence of sex pollen), choking, nasty everyone, hair pulling, fingering, degradation, gangbang, fivesome, masturbation
Word Count: ~ 4.9k
Part 1 | Part 2
Simon exited the room and headed straight for the bathroom to the right of it. His mind was captivated by the way you felt. Your soft, drenched skin. The plush fat of your thighs and the velvety softness of your soaked core. Fuck. It took all of his being not to take you the way you begged him to. The way you both craved. His mind kept replaying the sounds you made as he fucked you with his fingers. The little gasps. The desperate rasp in your voice. The feel of your oh-so-soft, sensitive throat in his hand as he restricted airflow to your brain. He’d only ever imagined you’d make sounds like that as he bent you over, in his mind.
He couldn’t stop his movements as he pulled his solid cock out of his jeans. The way your back arched and your hips thrusted. His cock couldn’t stop drooling for you. He hadn’t even needed to spit on his palm to fuck himself silly. Over and over again were the images of you playing in his mind as he tugged his cock. He ran a finger over the swollen head. The very same one that had been trapped inside your needy little pussy. He fought himself to stop the low groan that threatened its way from his covered mouth.
He was enamored by the way your pussy clenched and gasped for him. The ferocity in which you sucked his fingers in. The slick squelches of every motion he made inside of you. The way your pussy gripped his fingers every time he tried to pull them from you. He squeezed his thick cock with every down stroke to its base. He barely even needed to imagine that his hand was your pussy. The recollection of how his fingers slid inside of your warmth brought him to the edge of his release. His stance began to tremble as it approached and the only thing he needed to push himself over the edge was to think of how you begged him to use you however he wanted.
His mind painted an image of you on top of him. Face scrunched in ecstasy. Hips flush against his. Pussy sucking his fat cock into you. That was all he needed as he came, hard, into his slick hand. His knees nearly gave out at the intensity of his orgasm and he felt himself get a bit dizzy from its impact. He let a moment pass as he gathered his bearings and tucked his softening cock back into its confines. How was he supposed to go back out to his teammates after that?
~~~
“Right. So she’s had one and her pulse dropped a bit. Someone should check on her. Maybe take her a glass of water. She’s drenched in sweat.” Simon announced as he walked back into the living room attempting to appear nonchalant.
“What took you so long to check her pulse, lad?” Damn it Price. Must you always probe?
“I had a problem to take care of.” Simon replied.
“You fucked yourself sil-.” Soap beamed.
“That’ll do” Simon interrupted with a whip of his head over toward the grinning sergeant. The men around him broke out into laughter and he felt his checks flush with heat. He’d never been more appreciative of his mask than right now.
~~~
“Lass, I’ve brought you some water. I think you should have a drink. To replenish some of the fluids you’ve lost.” Soap said as he placed the water on the nightstand. You woke with a fright at the sound of Johnny’s voice. It felt so close to your ear. Except he wasn’t near you. He was stationed right next to the bed in front of the nightstand. His eyes raked over your body as he took in your disheveled appearance. Their movement stopped at what appeared to be your ankles.
He was staring at the soaked fabric that you forgot sat there. You shifted a bit as you felt his gaze darken. His eyes found their way back to yours in reaction to your movement. His baby blues were full of something that you hoped would bring him closer to you. You felt the words leave your mouth before you could even register them.
“You have to fuck me, Johnny.”
“ ‘m not gonna fuck you bonnie.” Johnny threw back at you.
“I can't keep going on like this. Please Johnny, I feel like I’m gonna die.” You whined as he moved closer to you. He brought his hand down your wrist to check your radial pulse. You shivered at the feel of his warmth on your skin.
“Lass. I cannae fuck you. You’re working yourself up again and Simon just took care of you a wee bit ago. Try and take some deep breaths.”
“Please Johnny. I need something. You can’t leave me like this.” You don’t even sound like yourself at this point. Your voice is so high and desperate. If you weren’t so horny you’d surely be embarrassed.
“ ‘m not gonna fuck you.” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. You let out a groan of deep frustration.
“How about your mouth then? I know you know how to use it. Please.” You pleaded as you lowered your eyes to his lips.
“Lass you cannae say things like that.” He groaned.
“Johnny I don’t care what I can and can’t say. Let me sit on your face. I’ve always wanted to shut you up. Please. Please.” Desperate wasn’t even the right word.
“Always wanted to shut me up? Bonnie, you're gonna hurt my feelings.” He taunted as he moved himself between your legs. Oh thank god. “I’ll let you shut me up just this once but only since you're begging me for it.” You let out a sigh of relief.
He pulled your panties from your ankles and brought them up to his face as his eyes locked onto yours. You watched in shock and anticipation as he moved the drenched underwear to his nose and took a deep inhale forcing his eyes to flutter closed. Your core clenched around nothing as you witnessed the sinful act.
“Steamin’ Jesus, Bonnie. You smell good.” He tossed the used cotton on the bed next to you and lowered his face right between your spread thighs. You rolled your hips in anticipation. The rough sheets wrinkled under you with your movements. You felt every fold and twist of the fabric beneath you. “You gonna let me taste you, Bonnie? Hm? Right from the source.” His face was now eye level with your weeping center. Just a breath away. “I thought you wanted to shut me up?” His eyes flicked from yours to your dripping center as brought his hands down to part your wetness.
“Johnny stop fucking teasing me. Please.” You whined as you rolled your hips into his touch. “Please just do something.” With your final plea, he lifted his mouth to your aching pussy.
“Oh fuck.”
His tongue flicked over your clit as he sank his middle finger into your warmth. He rolled his tongue over the sensitive bud as he began to curl his finger inside of you. Your hips had a mind of their own as you rolled them into his face. Your hands made their way down to his fluffy mohawk and gripped tightly onto whatever they could. He flattened his tongue over your clit as a deep groan fell from his lips when you tugged his hair. His eyes opened and immediately found yours as you watched him.
His eyes were filled with pure debauchery. He pulled his mouth away from you, just barely, and flicked his tongue back and forth over your puffy clit.
“Oh fuck yes,” was all that made its way out of your mouth as you tilted your head back and felt yourself shakily exhale. He took this as an opportunity to sink his ring finger into your aching entrance. Your back arched off of the bed and your hips jerked at the insertion. You lowered your gaze back onto him and felt the bed begin to shift beneath you as Johnny groaned into you. The vibrations sent shivers down your spine.
“Are you fucking getting off on this?” You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking as you noticed his hips rutting into the bed. Each pump of his fingers was matched by a thrust of his hips into the firm mattress below the both of you. The filthy sight had forced the air from your lungs as you watched him chase his own release.
He sucked on your clit and curled his fingers inside of you as his thrusts grew erratic. The movement of his tongue on your clit never ceased as he delivered a harsh thrust of his fingers into you, and of his hips into the bed. The lengthy vibrations from the groan that left his mouth surprised you as it pushed you over the edge. You gasped in shock at how quick your orgasm had come and you felt yourself writhe on the bed. You’d never seen anything more erotic in your life. Your core pulsed and your hips twitched around Johnny’s head as you came down. Johnny huffed and puffed, spent from his own release as he rested his head against your quivering thighs. His eyes met yours again as you slowly felt yourself losing the battle with remaining conscious.
~~~
“Someone has to fuck her.” Soap strode into the living room.
“Took you long enough, Johnny.” Ghost says from his spot on the wall.
“She’ll wake up in a wee bit and need something stronger than a few fingers and a tongue.”
“You gave her another one?” Price questioned.
“Aye. Who’s gonna be the one to do it sir?” Johnny looked over to Price for what felt like the tenth time of the night, seeking answers.
“Maybe we can try to get her to sleep it off.” Gaz chimes.
“And what if her heart stops because she isn’t getting what she needs? Then what? Someone has to fuck her.” Simon cuts.
“Captain, you should be the one to do it.”
“Soap.”
“Fine sir, then I’ll do it myself.”
“It's my task force. My job to make sure you lot get out alright. She’s my responsibility.”
“You don’t have to do it alone sir.”
~~~
You felt yourself moving out of the bed before your eyes had the chance to adjust to the lighting. For the first time since being in the safe house, you were on your feet and moving. Your vision shifted and the dizziness that overcame you was daunting. You felt yourself wobbling through the hallway as you made your way out of the bedroom and over to where you could hear voices. You turned the corner of the hallway and were met with the sight of your teammates in deep conversation. The four of them, all together in this room, had you picturing them doing unspeakable things to you. Your thighs clenched at just the thought alone.
“Price”, the name fell from your lips as you made your presence known, “Let them fuck me or do it yourself.”
“Lass, you’re up. And naked.” Price said befuddled at the sight of you drenched in sweat and bare at your bottom half.
You stood in the doorway of the dingy living room huffing and over exerted. Price sat in the seat that faced the fireplace with a cigar in hand, while Gaz and Soap sat on the dingy sofa in the center of the room. You looked to your right and took in Simon’s hulking figure as he leaned against the wall, facing the door.
“I can't take this anymore. Fuck me, please. I feel like I’m going crazy.” You started to sniffle, feeling a buildup of frustration course through your body once again. “I’ve failed at fucking myself. And I’ve fucked Simon’s hand. And Johnny's face and the urge just won’t stop. It won’t fucking go away. And Gaz wouldn’t do anything to me and I just need it to stop. I’m so frustrated and nothing is working.”
You stood there on shaky feet as you felt warm tears trickle down your sweat stricken face. Of course you’d started to cry. You were beyond overwhelmed. You could feel the stiff and chilled wood of the floorboards along with the almost blistering heat that radiated from the fire they sat in front of. Your nostrils were enveloped with the smell of Price’s cigar, the sweet and thick heat that flooded from it. You could still smell the heady gunpowder on the gear of your teammates that sat near the door. You felt like a bloodhound tearing through all of the scents that surrounded you. You knew you only needed one thing to satiate the urge that had settled itself in your bloodstream.
Price stood up and made his way toward you with long yet cautious steps. He stopped directly in front of you and lifted his hands to rest on your shoulders. Your figure trembled at the warm touch as the heat from his touch made its way to your aching center.
“Listen sweet girl. Whatever they hit you with, it's making you feel this way. You aren’t being yourself.” Price deep blue eyes connected with your tear filled ones and you felt yourself melt into their intensity.
“I need you to fuck me, Captain.” The words slipped from your mouth as swift as a prayer. Not a hint of embarrassment lined your voice as the words fell from your lips. Price’s hands tensed on your shoulders and his breathing took a slight hitch upon hearing his role fall from your lips in such a manner. He licked his lips and swallowed as he attempted to calm himself while his cock stirred in his jeans.
“Love, you shouldn’t call me that right now. It's not right.” He gulped as the words fell from his lips with a deep and gravelly quality to them. He removed his hands from your shoulders and took a step back from you as if he might have feared the power you had over him.
“Oh? Should I call you, Daddy, then?” The tilt in your head and the tone of your voice reflected a level of self assurance and control that mirrored a cat toying with its prey. Price watched in mild horror as you shifted from a meek and desperate girl into some kind of succubus that knew exactly how to press his buttons. The shift in your demeanor had his cock standing at attention. His words caught in his throat as the filth slipped from your lips and his pupils dilated, leaving a sliver of blue in the colored ring of his eyes.
Simon stood at the wall, eyes wide at the emboldened nature that your body seemed to adopt. Soap could only hear your voice as it slipped the utterly sinful words from your sultry lips. Your body had been shielded from his gaze by Price’s hefty figure. Gaz shared the same view that Soap did. Kyle’s mouth dropped open as he processed the filth that slipped from your lips. Your little performance was having more than its intended effect on your, somehow helpless, teammates.
“I felt you tense up as soon as I said it. I heard your breath catch in your throat and saw your pupils dilate. I bet you’re so fucking hard right now.” You moved closer to Price as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your body flush against his and there it was. Right between the two of you was Price’s thick, rock solid, cock. Your eyes held onto his as you dropped your arms from his shoulders and began to trail your hands down his firm chest. His body was warm and firm under your caresses. You released a tense sigh as he let you continue to touch him. Your eyes and movements dropped lower as your palm ran across his stiff bulge. Your gaze made its way to the tent that made itself known in his jeans.
“Can you please just fuck me Daddy?” The words slipped from you as you rubbed your thighs together and craned your neck to look into his eyes.
Price worked to steady his breathing as he attempted to assess the best possible outcome for this situation. Your ears picked up on a low groan that emanated from somewhere behind your Captain and also caught the slight creak in the springs of the old, worn couch.
Your eyes shifted from your commanding officer and locked onto the curly haired Sergeant that sat on the couch. Kyle as he threw his head back on the sofa softly and slightly rocked his hips into the air. You bit your lip in anticipation as a devious smile made its way onto your swollen lips.
“Maybe I should fuck Gaz? Hm Captain? You’ll let him fuck me right?” You purred as you gripped Price’s thick cock through his jeans. He released a strained breath from above you as he found the words.
“Sweet girl. This isn't you. You should go back to bed for us so we can try to figure this out. Please” Price struggled to sound convincing as his hips pressed into your soft hand. Your gaze left Kyle’s heaving figure on the sofa as they landed back on Price’s mildly unfocused baby blues.
“Daddy,” you began with a tilted head as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, “I’ll make it feel so good.” Your hips rocked a bit as the heel of your foot made contact with your soaked core. “I’ve always wanted to do this. I’ve always wanted to make you feel good. I’ll make you feel so good Sir. Then you can help me hm? Please help me Daddy” Price took a step back from you and you shifted onto your hands and knees as you crawled toward him.
“Sir. I think we should help her.” Soap cleared his throat from the sofa as he watched you with those same lust filled eyes that he wore when he licked your needy pussy.
“This is so fucked, Sir. She’s on her hands and knees begging for it.” Gaz strained as his dick twitched in his pants. Price put a hand in your hair and gripped tightly as he yanked your entire body upward. You landed shaky on your feet but you couldn’t help but to moan and roll your eyes at the painfully pleasurable sensation.
“Oh fuck that feels good. Pull harder, Daddy.” You chuckled as you heard a deep grunt come from in Simon’s direction.
“Stand up and get a hold of yourself, Lieutenant.” Price’s resolve was rapidly crumbling. He flicked his gaze over to the other Lieutenant in the room looking for some kind of sensible answer to this situation.
“Sir. I think we should put her out of her misery” Simon gruffly added from his spot on the wall.
Price’s gaze went back to yours and he searched for any kind of hesitation. He knew he wouldn’t find any hesitation or fear but he was hoping there was still a chance. The look in your eyes was one of depravity and desperation.
You captain crashed his lip into yours and you felt the pair of you moving backward into the wall that stood behind you. Your back was pressed firmly against it as a puff of breath forced its way out of your lips. Price took an opportunity to force his wet tongue into your mouth at the opening. You placed your arms back onto his shoulders and jumped into his arms. He quickly grabbed onto your ass and wrapped your legs around his thick waist. The angle allowed for your bare cunt to just barely rub against John’s firm cock in his pants. The kiss was passionate and rough as your tongues fought for dominance. You lifted your hands from his shoulders to his trimmed but fluffy hair and ran your fingers through his locks. You found the hair at the base of his skull and gave a solid tug.
“Ugh fuck” slipped its self from his lips as he locked eyes with yours once again. The pair of you heaved as you took a moment from your passion. It was only a moment as you two connected lips once again. This time you felt John move the two of you through the heated room and you realized he was walking the two of you toward the chair he sat in earlier. His lips were full and chapped but they felt like heaven against yours as your tongues tangled.
He lowered the both of you into the chair and your hips dropped fully onto him. You clit brushed against the worn denim and you felt yourself pulling away to release a moan and John let out a velvety groan. You heard and felt movement from behind you as you felt the press of a warm body at your back. Gaz had moved behind you to support your back as you began to shift your hips back and forth in Price’s lap. You felt a pair of soft full lips meet your neck as sounds began to flood from you freely.
“There you are.” You sighed as Gaz layed wet kisses on your neck. You felt as Price leaned forward to pull your sports bra from your body. You paused your movements for a moment as you felt his hands trace behind the sports bra as he lifted it from your body. When the sticky garment was finally free from your body, he dipped his head between your breasts and licked a long line up your sternum. His hands made their way back down your body and landed on your full breasts. He squeezed the warm flesh that sat on your chest as soft pants fell from your lips. A squeal left your lips as he pinched your right nipple between his thumb and index finger. The sensation trickled down to your clit and you felt your hips return to their previously halted movements. Price groaned in front of you as the grind of your hips stimulated his trapped cock.
You felt Kyle’s hand trailing up the sides of your torso as his hand made its way to your throat. The secure feeling of his hand on your neck made your hips rock down onto Price’s bulge. John opened his mouth and craned his head to catch your nipple between his lips as you shifted on top of him. Your fervent grinding began to pick up speed as John feverishly sucked your sensitive bud into his mouth and Kyle’s hand started to constrict on your throat. It felt like so much but not enough.
“Fuck. I need to feel you Daddy.” John moved his hands from your breast and worked at his belt buckle. While undoing his belt, his hand brushed against your clit and a shiver ran down your spine. He lifted his hips and pulled his cock free from its confines. The massive, thick member that belonged to John Price was leaking and beet red at the tip.
“Oh god, it's so big.” You sighed. He chuckled as he slipped his hand under you. You trembled at the feel of two of his big fingers pressing against your pulsing entrance. They trailed up and down your sensitive heat as he collected some of your wetness to make the stretch more comfortable for you. He was doing you a favor but all you could think about was how you needed to be filled right now. “Please don’t tease me. I need you right now.”
“I’m not teasing you sweet girl. Just tryna get you ready for me.” And with that, he thrust his middle and ring fingers into your weeping core. Your mouth dropped open and your body shifted backward against Kyle's front.
“Oh fuck. Thank you, Daddy.” You squealed.
“Fuck that’s so hot.” Gaz sighed as he squeezed your neck to stable you on Price’s lap.
Price began to move his fingers inside of you, alternating between little pumps and furious curls as he worked you open. You felt yourself rock your hips a bit to push them further inside of you. The need to be filled taking over your body.
Gaz moved his hand up to your open mouth and rubbed his thumb across your puffy, wet lips. Price scissored his fingers inside of you and a groan dropped from your mouth. Kyle took this as an opportunity to slip his thumb into your open, empty mouth and press it against your velvety tongue. You wrapped your lips around the digit as you rode Price's fingers.
Gaz brought his other hand up to your neck and squeezed. With a deep sigh, his warm breath filled your ear. With every rock of your hips, you ass brushed back onto Gaz’s aching bulge.
Price curved his fingers inside of you in a come hither motion that brushed against your G-spot and you felt yourself gasp around Kyle’s thumb. You let out a shaky exhale as he pulled his spit covered thumb from your mouth and replaced it with his ring and middle fingers. The two longer digits went so much deeper into your mouth that your throat couldn’t help but to constrict around them. The action of you gagging had your pussy clenching around Price’s thick fingers.
“You like that sweet girl?” Price teased from under you with a fucked out smile on his face. “You like when Gaz finger fucks that pretty little throat.” You trembled between the two men. The only thing you could really do was nod your head.
“Captain asked you a question, princess.” You tried to push out a gargled yes but all that could be heard was you gagging.
“You shouldn’t try to talk with your mouth full, sweet girl.” Price chuckled darkly as he dropped his other hand from your breast to his weeping cock between your bodies. He began to stroke it in slow, monotonous motions until he decided to tap the mushroom head just above your belly button. The action smeared a bit of his precum onto your soft belly and you trembled at the implication of him touching you there from the inside. He dropped his head back onto the top of the chair in a clipped sigh at the sight of his prespend on your belly.
You reached behind you and felt Gaz’s firm torso on your back. You trailed your hands down his tummy and made a move for his belt.
“I'll take care of it, love. Don’t worry.” He removed his hands from your mouth and throat and made quick work of his jeans. He returned to your back and you felt his cock press firm against the base of your spine. It was so warm and thick against your skin. Your hand fumbled looking for his cock behind your back. You lightly brushed against it and you felt him shiver behind you. You grabbed his cock and ran your thumb across its head before dragging it down the shaft.
“I need it. Please.” John pulled his fingers from your center and wrapped his drenched hand around his cock. Gaz helped lift your hips off of Price’s as he lined his cockhead up with your entrance. He rubbed the stubby head of it back and forth a few times. Each pass brushed against your aching clit. “Just put it in.” you whined.
“Needy girl,” and with that you felt Price’s head notch at your entrance.
You dropped your hips onto his. The groan that fell from your mouths filled the room as you sat fully on Price's massive cock. “Oh god. You’re soaked, sweet girl.” Gaz reached around your body and found your swollen clit. His finger, still wet from your mouth, made little circles on the bulbous nerve ending and you felt yourself shake. John thrust up into you as Gaz continued his assault. You’d never felt so full in your life as John pushed his hips up into yours. Each movement John made, you let yourself counter and you rolled your hips into each other. The sounds that slipped from John’s lips along with Kyle’s campaign on your clit had you seeing stars. You felt Gaz’s cock begin to twitch behind you as he rutted his hips into your lower back. Each sensation that fell upon you brought you closer and closer to reaching your climax. Your eyes met John’s as Kyle wrapped a hand back around your neck. He applied a firm amount of pressure as you rode John’s cock. With the feeling of hands and touches everywhere you felt yourself clench and unclench around John’s cock. The sound that tumbled from his lips was a mix of a groan and a whimper and the thought of him being close to his release pushed you over the edge. You let the band inside of you snap as your body tensed and released all at the same time. You felt like something was pouring from you. “Oh fuck she’s squirting.” You’d never done that before. John’s hips stuttered beneath you as his movements turned erratic. With one final thrust he planted himself deep in your core and let himself release into you. You felt a warmth spread across your back as Gaz emptied himself on your back.
period sex with older bf!simon x chubby!reader (tattoo artist!simon)
part 2 to this (can totally be read as a standalone)
cw: smut, p in v, daddy kink my fav
it had been a couple days since that first night on his couch, when your body was all wound tight and sore, skin breaking out and cramps threatening but not quite there yet. now, the worst of it had hit—you were on your period, achy and bloated and uncomfortable in ways that made you curl into yourself.
and simon hadn’t left your side once.
you were stretched out across his lap, his hoodie still drowning you, a heating pad tucked against your stomach. he sat there steady beneath you, one hand moving slow circles over your belly, the other stroking your thigh through the fabric.
you shifted, wincing a little, and felt it right away—hard and unyielding under you.
“you’re hard,” you mumbled into his chest, your voice muffled and thick with exhaustion.
his hand stilled. “ignore it.”
“i don’t want to.” your fingers trailed down, brushing against the bulge in his jeans before he caught your wrist, careful but firm.
“i want you,” you cut him off, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “even like this. especially like this.”
his jaw flexed, breath leaving him slow and uneven. for a long moment, he just looked at you—like he needed to make sure you weren’t saying it out of guilt, or softness, or anything but wanting. then he pressed his forehead to yours.
“you sure?” he asked, voice low and rough.
you nodded.
he swore under his breath, then kissed you—slow, deep, like he’d been starving for it but too afraid to take. his hands didn’t leave your belly, your hips, your thighs, grounding you, soothing you. when he finally eased you back against the couch, he moved careful, reverent, pausing every time you winced or shifted.
“tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, kissing down your throat, across the sore swell of your chest. “i’ll stop the second you say.”
finally, he was taking the minimal amount of clothing remaining off both of you. you could have whispered his name, desperate, longing and aroused but of course you couldn’t. suddenly, he hears it, it’s small, quiet, but it’s there “daddy” his resolve broke, he let out a deep groan—one that just makes you wonder “is he even real?” (spoiler alert: he’s not). he helplessly pressed himself into you, moving slow, steady, careful, like every inch of you deserved patience.
if it weren’t for your current condition, you’d be more worried about not being able to move tomorrow than normal. considering the situation, you weren’t moving anyways so it didn’t fucking matter. all that matters is how he feels inside you, he’s stretching you so good.
it was almost primal how he pushed into you. but he was so gentle at the same time.
yet it wasn’t frantic. it wasn’t rushed. it was relief—aching and heavy and full of him, his mouth pressing kisses into your hair, his hands stroking your belly like he could ease the cramps right out of you.
by the time you were coming on him, it wasn’t sharp or harsh—it was soft, uncoiling, like your body finally let go of every ache and knot inside you.
“thaaat’s it babygirl. right there yeah? daddy’s making you feel so good huh baby?” he teases.
how do you even answer that? you can’t. all you can do is throw your head back and let him hear how good he makes you feel.
afterward, he stayed wrapped around you, one big hand still protective over your stomach, the other tangled with your fingers. his voice was rough when he spoke, pressed into your hair:
or: Country!Simon catches you attempting to tag his property, of course he has to teach you a lesson.
cw: 3.6k words, 18+ mdni, Country!Simon, alt universe, no use of y/n, some plot with smut, dub-con, spanking, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, age gap (Simon 29, reader 23), primal play & reencounter (if you tilt your head), pet names (little girl, city broad, lucky), fingering, lite pussy pronouns, degradation, lucky!reader
a/n: a scrapped Drabble turned into a full story cause I love plot
part 2!!! <3
You were running like your life depended on it.
It was dumb for you to even attempt to tag the Riley barn to begin with.
You knew that, your friends knew that, anyone in town would’ve warned you otherwise.
It all started with a little end of college fun, wreck havoc like the good ole days. Nothing out the ordinary. Something that supposed to be a silly little prank, saying goodbye to college and hello to adulthood by spray paint and a little egging.
Was it a little too much for your liking? Yes.
Just plain rude and disgusting because at the end of the day, what exactly did Ghost do to deserve any of this? But peer pressure is a nasty, annoying, bitch. Regardless of age.
The Riley Ranch had been rumored as evil and haunted, the only people who really interacted with the land being other farmers. Even when Simon Riley, the last standing of the family, came to church (on the rarest occasions), people kept their distance. Afraid his families “bad” energy would spread over to them.
They called him Ghost.
There was a fire at the families home, started by Ghosts father who was always in a rage. Your father made sure your family stayed clear of him when you visited, he wasn’t too kind to quote, ‘big headed, posey, no good, city slickers.’ No one thought his rage would grow so large into trying to kill his whole family.
No one one besides Ghost made it out that night, there was rumored to be a large burn mark on his back to prove it.
You’d gotten found too fucking quick, “What the hell do you think you’re doin?” His voice booming on the highway road.
Simon Riley was blessed to have ears like an owl. Heard the car pull up and stop on his property, the rumbling of the engine— a beat passes— the car doors slamming shut and the far off hushed giggles. Nothing new, people had passed his property to spook whoever the hell they were with. Try to show how “evil spirits” ran rampant on his land, even if they were, he hadn’t ask for them to be there. But they’d never stop. They’d do it before.
They’d do it again.
But he heard that can of spray paint shake and his boots hit the floor before he even realized it.
Not the brown farmhouse gate he’d spent so long sanding down as a child with the help of his grandfather. Not the white ranch fence he’d spend so long getting together as soon as the land was properly handed to him and in his name, that’d he hand painted himself and fixed up the grass so people knew better than to drop any litter there.
No fucking way.
Your friends were already in the mustang you’d arrived in, those bastards, revving the engine and zooming off. You dropped the can, more spray getting on the grass fuck, fuck, fuck— your brown eyes slowly looked up, meeting a more than livid pair blue eyes.
You wanted to squeak out, ‘im sorry’ but where would there be room for that? Not in between the ranch fence that already had a squiggly line and crooked smiley face with black spray paint on it created by yours truly. There would absolutely be no room for an apology when his face was already screwed up, jaw clenching from underneath the bandana that hid his face, eyes narrowing into slits.
Well duh, babe. Move those feet!
And you did, turning at a 90 degree angle and sprinting like it was the end of the world. Ghost mumbled a ‘god damn it’, and ran right after you, his boot quickly meeting a carton of unopened eggs.
Oh you were definitely in for it now.
You ran through the Egyptian wheat, tall as the eye can see, green leaves scratching your arms and legs. You prayed to God there wasn’t any crazy animals hiding in there. You were panting, taking a quick glance behind you and you could only hear rustling of the large plants that surrounded you, feet hitting the floor.
Then you heard a distant yell in the field, “[+], you get back here!”
Well it wasn’t exactly the hardest to spot you out, you looked like your mother— who looked like her mother. You came from a family known for actually being good people, never hesitating to help or providing when need be. You’d met Mr. Riley a couple times in your 23 years of life. Quick instances that you vaguely remember. But you knew his face, and he knew yours.
Your mom had been one of the few good people making sure he was well taken care of when he was younger, she couldn’t raise him like she had wanted to with having to travel back and forth from the city for work as a children’s author. But she’d made sure he was taken care of in whatever home he was placed in, encouraged him to join the Boys and Girls club, something to ground him.
“Just needs someone to look after ‘em is all,” she’d ensisted while braiding your hair one night before heading to meet him at his group home, fingers weaving through your curls with purpose, you were around eight. “Some kids need a lil extra love, show ‘em someone’s there for ‘em. Simon’s one of those kids, so is your older brother, even though he’s a pain in my side at times. They’re all good in their core— their heart. It’s important to have someone nurture it. Gods called me to do that.”
Though, the relationship strained when the foster system let him go. “He’s just having boy troubles. Boys go through those weird hormones when they hit a certain age. Wants to prove ‘imself as a man. They get real hard headed [+]. He’ll get over it ‘nd pull through. He always does,” she’d say. So certain. Undoubting. Like a sixth sense.
And Simon did manage well enough, clearly, for him to have a proper farm for himself, one that was properly taken care of and thriving. You’d visited with your mom two years back. It was so clear to you now. Your mother practically smothering him in a hug when she got close enough. Simon was awkward at first, but accepted it. His eyes and whole body softing by her touch. She’d been family when no one else would be.
He looked towards you, you met a gorgeous shade of blue, long blonde lashes to match his short blonde hair, face with a few noticeable scars and half his face hidden under a black bandana. You were standing a ways off so you couldn’t hear what he or your mother was saying, but you saw him nod toward you. Your mother saying something and him nodding in response. She waved you over,
“[+] you know Simon— I mean, Mr. Riley since you’re a grown man now, ain’t that right.” She laughed.
“Whatever you want ma’am.” He looks down at you and extends his hand. You take it, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and give it a firm shake.
“Good seein you.” It wasn’t just words, he was sincere, caring. Like seeing an old friend.
You nodded, “ ‘S good seeing you too.”
He showed you the farm after that in his truck. The big house that was farther toward the woods, properly fixed after the fire a decade ago, the Egyptian wheat field, the horses and chickens and the new blue barn he was building to accommodate them, the horse training area used to break in horses no one else would. It was a lot of land, a lot of work, but you could tell by the sound of his husk voice, he was proud of himself and the work he’d been able to accomplish. Even more happy when your mom praised him.
It finally clicked: that barn— and right on time, you’d caught sight of it. Not the one Mr. Riley had been fixing when you visited, the old one. Large and in charge that had old wood, and was definitely falling apart. But you made a bee line for it anyway.
What other option did you have?
Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, nerves on a high because you didn’t even notice how close Ghost was to you before you ducked so he couldn’t grab you. Kicking his shin and dashing towards the barn that was bones.
“You damn brat! fuck me!” He cursed, hopping to ease the new pain on his leg before running right after you.
You undid the large wooden latch, sliding the doors open and immediately trying to slide them close. But his hand shot through the opening, a shiver runs down your spin.
Up the steps you went, the only place you could go, and Ghost was right on your heels, quick, almost silent— didn’t call him Ghost for no reason. You tripped and fell on a pile of hay and wild chickens went fluttering and clucking down to the barn floor, clouding your vision. Next thing you knew, Ghost finally caught you. His hands grabbed hold of both of your arms as you rolled around and thrashed underneath him.
“You fuckin asshole! Let me go!” You grunted, trying to kick your legs where the sun didn’t shine but completely missing when the older man closed your legs, gripping them together under your knees in his hands. He had you like a pig about to be roasted.
“You ruin my property but I’m the asshole?” The fucking audacity of you. “Gonna teach you a fuckin lesson cause clearly they don’t teach you city folk manners.”
With ease, Ghost sat himself down on one of the old hay bails, bringing you over his lap. He grunts, keeping you as still as you can, and then like thunder— his large calloused hand comes down to your plump ass, echoing in the empty barn.
“Mr. Riley!” You gasp, your head shoots up, eyes widening— there’s no way- was he giving you a spanking? The next one yanks you out of your thoughts, brutal, harsh, that makes you scream his name again, “Mr. Riley, that’s enough!” But he’s completely ignoring you.
You’re crying and whimpering, as his hand continues forming ripples in your ass. You’d gotten one singular whopping your whole life, from your grandma for breaking her good vase when she told you no ball throwing in the house. Life altering from one incident that made you into the goodest girl there ever was.
And then there’s this predicament, one that ripped your soul in two. One half fueled with hatred for doing something so crude— so audacious. And then the other that’s struggling to keep itself contained. one more hit that meets your tender bottom, one that hits you in a place you didn’t realize was boiling over— a smack to the ass that forces an egregious moan out of your trembling plump lips.
Simon stills, his eyes flicking over the state of you. You’re shaking, head down and legs finally not kicking. But he sees the way you try to hide yourself further into his lap, because you and he both know you just moaned because of a little whooping.
Oh— you're crazy.
You’d unknowingly created a fire and Simon would add lighter fluid to it.
He lifts the bottom of your short flower patterned dress, just to peak, you jump but still, your heart pounding even louder than it had before. And it’s a sight for the man to behold— your underwear soaked like the damn ocean. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to bring the hands down to hide the slick that was ever growing.
“D-don’t look.” You sniffle. Too damn cute.
But there’s a snicker, something that makes you look back at him and his eyes are shining with mischief, “My god, you’re a filthy lil thang, aren’t’chu?” It’s almost rhetorical, he’s not asking you, he’s asking your cunt. “Didn’t know you city broads were like that, learn somethin new every day, don’t you?”
You yelp when he yanks your underwear down to your knees, thrashing around once again, but Simon keeps you still. Your pretty pussys glistening as bright as sun on water, slick all over your fat second pair of lips. He brushes his fingers against them, sending shivers up your spine, you cant help but arch further into his touch.
You whine, “Mr. Riley-“
“—Shhhhh, gotta hear her,” he murmured, slowly slipping a finger in your drenched hole. Your pussys practically sputtering out with every thrust of his finger, slipping another one and coating it perfectly. He takes them out, sucking up the juices on his tongue that you’ve left on them, spitting down on your hole before stuffing his fingers back into you. He hums in satisfaction as you lose your mind, “such a fuckin slut, you just get this wet for anyone, don’t you?”
Your eyes reach the back of your head, breath hitching, “Nooo, I don’t- I wouldn’t!— ooh- agh- Mr. Riley!” your interrupting yourself with your own moans. Whatever anger you had before, folding into nothing.
He finally let’s go of your hands and you grip on to his leg, nails clawing at his jean cover thighs. Your stomach tightens running away as your orgasm builds but Simon follows, thrusting his fingers into your gummy walls even more, curving them to find your sweet spot with determination.
“Eaaasy now, don’t want to hurt you. Be good ‘nd cum. Know you want to, make a mess all over me darlin’.”
And that’s all it takes, with a twitch and a squeal, your cumming all over his hand. Simon thrusts his fingers a couple times, watching the wave of euphoria wash over you before sucking one of fingers clean, then bringing the other to your mouth.
“Come on, don’t be fuckin uppity, taste it lil girl” he tsked, you take the middle finger in your mouth, tasting your own arousol, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly pulling your head back with a ‘pop.’ It all goes straight to the blondes aching dick.
You hear it, the unbuckling of his belt, your stomach touching the tint that had built because of you. your mind finally snaps out of the trance he’s got you in. You barley manage to get out of his lap, scrambling through the hay, tripping over your underwear, on your as knees. Giving Simon the perfect view of your tender ass and the slick that’s dripping down to your thigh before you turn when you meet a wall. Pushing yourself into it.
“We- shit- someone- someone’ll come!” You ramble out, panting, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm. Your eyes avert to anything in this barn besides the man infront of you. But he made his way over to you, slow, stalking. And once he’s on his knees and hovering above you, he springs his cock from from his boxers. The blonde is hung, large and girthy, his tip strawberry red and leaking pre cum.
He bends down, sliding his fat cock between your wet folds, and then smacking his tip on your clit creating a plap, plap, plap. You can’t help but whimper at the sensation.
“You want it don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, taunting you, goosebumps wave over your skin. “Don’t want me all the way,” he traces over your belly, and then pokes right where your uterus is, “up here, hm?”
“Don’t want me to make you feel good pretty girl? Don’t wanna feel it once?”
Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s pulsing through you, the way he’s looking down on you like you’re pathetic, dick crazed maniac. And maybe that’s exactly what you are, just once— you just want feel him stir your guts just. this. once.
“I do.”
And your soft voice is just enough for the brute to yank your legs open, Simon throwing your legs over his forearms and spreading your pretty hole open with just the tip. The man starts bullying himself inside the tightness of your pink walls.
He’s big. He’s too big. You hiccup, shoving at his shoulder while he’s splitting you in half, “Mr.Riley, ‘s so much! hicc- can’t. I can’t.”
He croons, slowly thrust more and more of his veiny length into you. “Come oooon city broad, thought you could take it? Don’t go runnin. Been runnin from me alllll this time little girl.”
“Bet you won’t do no shit like that again, ruining my damn property,” Simon hissed, smacking down your clit a few times. “Gonna fuck that nonsense outta that lil brain ‘f yours.”
“I won’t! I promise! Mmmph- I’ll be good! S-so good just for you. Always for you.” You mewled, one hands clawing at the wall behind you and other hand at his shoulder. He finally feels it, his cock reaching the very hilt of you, balls smacking your ass crack. The damn obscene sounds your syrupy pussy is making to keep him inside you, and his tip giving your cervix the messiest and he’s sure, the first kiss it’s ever received.
A baby.
You’d look so fucking sexy, being all plump with his fucking baby. He pushes your thighs back to you head further, jackhammering into your heat rough and mean.
“Five,” he mumbles, groping at one of your tits in his hand. Squeezing and kneading it like a vice.
“Wha-“
“You’ll give me five ‘f ‘em, won’t’cha? Make me a daddy.”
He’s talking nonsense, partially. Simon wasn’t dead set on five, he’d wanted a baseball team but he’d settle for whatever you wanted. One would do if it caused you too much strain. He’d take care of you and the baby, buy you whatever you asked for, have you sat on that back porch, in a rocking chair. Your hand on your full belly, watching him as he worked all lovingly.
Simon breath hitches, rolling his hips into yours with a grunt, fucking drunk at the thought of it. The thought of you, all while your pussy was squeezing on him like you were reading his fucking mind.
“C-christ almighty, I got lucky with you huh? A snug lil cunt like this deserves to be up filled up with my cum.”
You still couldn’t believe it, thee Simon Ghost Riley, was with you in this old barn fucking your brains out like you were fucking Eve in that damn garden, on top of a pile of hay. Both of you letting out moans and groans like animals that you’re sure anyone who stepped foot on property would be able to hear. It’s hot, and sweat is forming on both of your foreheads, your skin is sticky. Simon’s big balls hitting your ass every punch of his tip into you G Spot. both of your eyes hazy, stupid off the other getting off.
“Feel so gooood M-Mr. Riley! So much!” You keen, reach for the bandana hiding his face. He always pushes your hand away but then he remembers what you’re about to be— his lover, his wife— the mother of hic children.
“Mamma’s gotta know the face of ‘er children’s daddy right? pull it off.” And you do, tugging it. And god, maybe this whole ordeal got you lucky.
So damn pretty. A scar on his nose, another one at the end of his pink lips, blonde strands swaying everytime he ruts into you, “Mr. Riley’s sooo pretty,” you slur, talking to him like it’s some secret. You’re lucid in his cock, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure while you stomach coils up.
“Uh-uh, eyes on me city broad, look at me!” He squeezes your cheeks together, planting a fat kiss on your smooshed lips. He snaps his hips forward, and your head would’ve hit the wall from how good you feel. But Simons still got your pretty face in his hands.
“Gonna have ya allll bare foot ‘nd pregnant, waddlin yer cute ass ‘round here with a ring on that finger.” He’s telling you, as if this is already happened and he’s seein it with his own eyes. All you can do is moan at his words. You can’t even form a sentence at this point. Just nodding your ditzy little head while he gives you his dick.
“Gonna be a pretty fuckin mamma too, fu- shit baby, your pretty tits all full with milk for our kin— damn, you love the sound ‘f that dontcha? You can deny it all ya wont, but she’s achin for it.”
God, you are. She is too. You didn’t even know how greedy your pussy was being as he pistoned in and out of you, “Gonna— gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna-“
“-Yeah, thaaat’s it lucky, come all over your husbands cock.”
All you can utter is a ‘s-shit’ when your orgasm smacks you, your toes curling in your converses, thighs shaking in Simons hold.
The blonde gets you in a headlock, smooshing you down into the floor further, brushing your curls with hay out of your gorgeous face. rutting into you as your walls clamp onto him, begging for his all milk he’s able to give you.
Simon growls, and the strings of cum fill your womb. Your clammy bodies are still stuck together as he rocks the last bit of cum into. Mumbling while kissing your neck, “take it lucky it’s all yours. Gotta keep you nice ‘nd full if you’re gonna get pregnant.”
It’s quiet finally. The barn itself is old and creaks but you can hear the chickens right down the steps clucking, the cicadas chirping, the breeze passing through the trees. The only think you hear are his and your pants,
Simon scoops you up in his arms, adjusting your dress to cover the mess he’s created thats dripping down on that barn floor with every steps he takes.
“Mr. Riley, where are we- where are we going?” You hiccup, gripping onto his shirt. All you can look at is him, a little in shock, a little blissed out. The only thing your able to focus on is the handsome man holding you against his chest. The way his heart pounds louder as he looks down at you.
“To the house. It just won’t take after one go.”
a/n: a draft that’s sitting since last month. Luv you bubs. Can’t wait to write more country!simon
his nose presses into you first, not even kissing yet, just breathing. deep and steady like he’s trying to memorize your scent from the inside out. his mouth’s open barely and the air that slips past his lips is warm and thick and needy, like he’s been waiting all day to get here.
his tongue doesn’t come right away. it’s his nose that moves first, nudging up, dragging slow through your folds, firm and just a little too deliberate. he lingers there, just under your clit, breathing against it while his mouth hovers below. every inhale pushes heat through you, makes your thighs twitch. makes your chest rise fast.
and then he exhales right on it. right where it’s swollen and aching, like he knows what that’ll do. your hips lift instinctively and he groans, softly, barely audible, but vibrating against you, mouth pressed in now, tongue peeking out to taste the slick he’s already smeared all over his face.
he doesn’t kiss like he’s teasing. he kisses like it’s intimate. tongue slow, full and heavy, sliding from your entrance up to your clit with aching patience. he noses into you with every pass, the bridge of it brushing perfectly where you’re throbbing, and he just—stays there.
no rush. no talking. just hot breath and wet sounds and his mouth working you open like he was made to be between your legs.
he groans again, deeper this time, right when your hand grips his hair. his tongue pushes in. not fast, not hungry, just thick, curling inside you, dragging out so slow your stomach tenses. he licks like it’s a rhythm, not a goal. like he’d do it for hours. like he has done it for hours.
his nose grinds gently up as his tongue fucks in, and the pressure sends a tremor through you. your hips jolt. your breath breaks. and he moans again, head rocking with the motion of your body, staying perfectly locked into that sweet, constant rhythm of mouth down, nose up, pressure, lick, moan, repeat.
you’re soaked. he’s covered in it. it shines on his cheeks, on his lip, slicking the edge of his glasses and the tip of his nose and he doesn’t wipe it away. he doesn’t want to. he wants to drown in it.
your thighs shake, closing in around his ears. he groans like he likes the squeeze, hands sliding up to hold your hips in place as your body starts to stutter, legs twitching, cunt clenching, breath snapping short.
and he doesn’t stop.
he tongues deeper. noses harder. lets you ride his face like you’re breaking him apart, every movement coaxed out of you by the steady, devoted rhythm of his mouth.
and when you finally cum—shaking, gasping, soaked and silent—he just keeps going. no words. no questions. not even a pause.
just a nose nudging your clit like it belongs there and a tongue licking up everything you give him like he hasn’t even started yet.
Explicit Sexual Content | Oral Sex | Interrupted | Shared Feelings
“And you can’t tell me that you don’t want me because our titles are different.” You’re looking up at him in determination, opening up everything for him to see, “I won’t believe you, John.”
✨⋆｡°✩₊💛₊✩°｡⋆🧼⋆｡°✩₊💛₊✩°｡⋆✨
Having you in his room had never been an issue before. You’d hung out there all the time with him, going over mission reports or just to shoot the shit. But you being there to have sex with him was another story. It left him feeling suddenly awkward, like he hadn’t just got done railing you within an inch of you life multiple times.
It’s quiet, the majority of base having gone out on the town for Friday night. The adrenaline has worn off, and he stands in the middle of his room with a blazing face and pounding heart.
You look just as flustered, glancing around like it was your first time seeing any of it.
The room is dimly lit by his bedside lamp, smelling faintly like the supplies he’d used to clean his gun earlier. He stands close to you, and when he looks at you, he knows it’s with a softness that was miles from what it had just been. A fondness that he doesn’t know how to hide anymore.
Hesitantly, he reaches out to grip your waist, eyes trained on yours as his fingers graze under the hem of your shirt, “If you changed yer mind…”
“Soap, you just gave me the hardest dicking down of my life, quit trying to talk yourself out of this. We both know you want it.” You huff.
He puffs out a breath, “Aye, very keenly aware o’ that by now.” His cheeks flush, “But what matters is what you want.”
“You know what I want.” You say, rolling your eyes, “Wouldn’t have let you do all that if I didn’t.”
“That’s the thing, lass.” He sighs, shoulders deflating, “I shouldn’a done any of it. This,” he jostles your hips, “shouldn’ be happening.”
“You keep saying that, but why?” You frown, “It’s okay to have something you want, Soap.”
“I’m yer Captain. I hold rank over you,” He feels the pinch in his face, unable to keep the pain off of it, “I’m taking advantage of you.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” You say, eyes flashing like they had when you argued earlier, “Since when has rank ever gotten in your way?”
“Since it could be used against you.” He fixes you with a serious look, “If someone found out…I don’ want ye te be the Lieutenant that only got to her rank fer sleepin’ her way there. You earned it. I dinnae have no part in you bein’ here.”
“Shouldn’t that be my worry?” You fist the collar of his shirt in your hand, anchoring him to the spot, “I’m standing here, I’ve been standing here, begging you to look at me and you’re worried about rank?”
He lets out a shaky breath, swallowing hard. How long had been doing the same?
“You are the one good thing I get in my life,” Angry tears pool in your eyes, “and I was fine if I just got you as my partner out there. But after this, Soap…you can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way. You can’t tell me you’d be okay with me walking out the door and going back to the way things were. Because I wouldn’t be.”
“‘Course I can’t.” He huffs, the thought making him sick.
“And you can’t tell me that you don’t want me because our titles are different.” You’re looking up at him in determination, opening up everything for him to see, “I won’t believe you, John.”
He chuckles softly at the use of his real name, something you only did to really get your point across. Ducking his head, his lips ghost across yours, “You’ve had me since day one, bonnie. Don’ think I can act like you haven’t anymore.”
“Okay.” You nod, “Then fucking kiss me.”
Soap laughs again, “Yes ma’am.”
He does, pulling you into him and pressing his lips to yours. Everything fades, the worry, the noise, until it’s only you and him. You’re the only thing that matters in that little space, not the world, not the mission, not what would happen Monday, just you, and how much he wanted to make you understand that.
He eases your shirt up and over your body, scarred knuckles grazing over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He watches your face the entire time, monitoring for any signs of hesitation. There weren’t any, not now that you’d laid it all out there for him. There was no going back, as if Soap would be able to if there was.
His fingers unclasp your bra, more goosebumps rising up on your flesh as he exposes your breasts to the chilly air of his bedroom. He loses focus on anything other than your tits, one of his hands skimming up your side to run a thumb on the underside of it.
And, to truly make you understand how much he wants to worship you, to make up for how stupid he’s been, Soap lowers himself to his knees in front of you, his gaze reverent as it stares up into yours. His fingers slowly pull your leggings and panties down from around your hips, lips kissing each one, before trailing down your thighs. He goes slow, fingers skimming down your skin, not wanting to waste a single moment. He feels you put a hand on the top of his head, tangling it in his mohawk, and closes his eyes as he lets out a sigh against your leg.
“You have no idea what you do to me.” He murmurs, turning his face into your thigh to suck a bruise into it, “How beautiful ye are.”
“You could show me.” You say, and he hums.
“I would love nothin’ more.” He kisses your thigh one more time before saying, “Lie down fer me, bonnie.”
You go easily, crawling over the covers of his bed. The blanket on top is his own, soft under your bare skin. You watch him straighten from your perch on his bed, yanking his shirt over his head. As he works on his jeans, you take the time to admire every inch of his body, muscled and scared and perfect.
“Like what you see?” He smirks, stepping out of the pool of his jeans, naked and hard, cock bobbing up against his belly.
“Would like it more if it was closer.” You say, biting your lip as he lowers himself to his knees again.
“How close?” He asks, hands skimming up your shins.
“Mm, closer.”
He hooks his arms around your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed, “Better?”
“Closer.”
He grins, “How’s this?”
You watch him through half lidded eyes as he finally leans in, dragging his tongue over you in one long stroke. He groans softly as he does, the taste of you just as intoxicating as he remembers.
“Perfect.” You breathe, head tipping back as your breath hitches.
Soap moans into your pussy, wrapping your thighs around his shoulders to pull you closer into his face, because he can’t get enough. He alternates between slow, firm strokes of his tongue and gentle sucks to your clit, in tune with your every move, every noise—the way your hips twitch, your breathy moans.
“God you taste like heaven.” He says on a sigh, “Could do this all night.”
“That sounds okay.” You say, back arching when he flattens his tongue and drags. Your fingers twist in the sheets, and Soap lets out a low hum when his name tumbles from your lips.
He eats you out for longer than he has anyone else, content in spending as long as you let him there. It’s almost like he’s drunk on your pussy, lazily eating you out and getting less sober with every whimper he draws out of you.
“Ah! Soap—” Your hips grind into his face, and he groans, “Right there.”
He obeys, swirling his tongue around the spot that had made you jerk. You cry out, wrapping your legs around his head to hold him steady. His eyes roll as you do, taking that as an invitation to up the pressure on your clit.
“Oh my God, sir.” You breathe, “No sorry, not sir. Not Captain. We just talked about that.”
He laughs against you, his cock bobbing as he says, “That can stay if you want.”
“Yeah?” You pick your head up to meet his gaze, “You like being called sir?”
He does, he really fucking does, “By you.”
“Then by all means, don’t stop, sir.”
He shudders, pressing his tongue sharper, and you gasp. He works you over, tongue swiping down to delve into your hole before licking a hot strip right back up to your clit.
“Oh fuck,” You wine, “fuck, Soap. I’m so close don’t fucking stop.”
He picks up his pace, and you choke on a sob, your swollen pussy flooding his face.
“Can I come for you, sir?” You whine, “Please.”
He can practically feel his pupils blow wide, and he hums his permission as you come on his face. The thighs wrapped around his head quiver, entire body trembling as lewd moans bounce around the cinderblock walls of his room. He keeps his face plastered to your cunt, ringing out every last drop of your orgasm, every single twitch of your body he could.
You fall back limply onto his bed, chest heaving, as he rises to his feet. Just the sight of you there, naked and sweaty and spent, could probably make him come if he tried hard enough. As it is, the smell of you on his sheets probably will for the next few nights, jerking himself off remembering how you looked in his bed.
“Yer really fuckin’ somethin’, lass, y’know that?” Soap says, crawling over you to hover, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand before twining your fingers together and pinning both your hands above your head, “Never wanted te make someone come harder in my life.”
“Makes two of us.”
“Can I tell ye a secret?”
“Anything, sir.”
“When tha’ bitch blew the powder in my face, and you started yellin’ at’er, pointing yer gun in ‘er face—” He breathes a laugh, sucking a bruise against your neck, “Got half hard right there.”
You hum, letting him run his teeth along your shoulder, “Good to know you get hot under the collar watching me in action, and you like being called sir. That’s going to be so fun on our next op.”
He bites, and you arch up into him, bare skin caressing his, “Yer gonna pretend you don’ stare when I’m takin’ someone down?”
“Never.” You say, watching as he dips down to press a kiss to your sternum, “It’s incredibly hot when you do. Especially when you’re all roughed up.” One of your legs bends around his waist, foot kicked up against his ass, “Blood all over, hair a mess.”
“Ah, ye liked me fucked up, do ye lass?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
He kisses you slow, sweet, deep, like you had all the time in the world, and maybe for just that night, he could pretend you did. He could pretend you were just another couple, getting ready for a long weekend instead of preparing for a slaughter come Monday.
“Let me do this right.” He whispers against your lips, “No rush. I want te take my time with you. I just…I wanna do this right.”
You nod, eyes bouncing between his, “I want that, Johnny.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He kisses you deeply, rolling his hips, slow and deliberate, and slides into you to fill you whole again. He sighs, and you gasp at the same time, like it was the first time he’d ever been inside you. But there’s no desperation now, no urgency, just the slow roll of his hips that make you feel every inch of him, lets him feel your tight, wet warmth as he thrusts.
He moves slowly, fucking you in deep, long strokes. He wants to savor it, every moment he’s inside you, every little noise, every face you make, and capture them in his mind’s eye.
A soft moan makes its way out of your lips, and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in deeper.
Soap grunts into your neck, voice hoarse as he says, “Not gonna last long, you keep squeezin’ me like tha’.”
He pulls back to look down at you, and you smile, eyes half lidded, “Like you haven’t come in me twice already tonight.”
“Wanna take my time.” He says, sliding out only to push back in, “Dinnae get to before.”
“We have all the time, sir.” You say, grinding your hips up into him to match his every thrust.
“Not guaranteed.”
You cup his cheek with one hand, tracing the scar over his eye with your thumb, “It is if I can help it.”
He scoops a hand underneath your head, holding it up to stare into your eyes as he rolls his hips into yours. His other hand skims down your side, over the curve of your ass, up your thigh, hooking it closer around his waist. Your eyebrows pull up into a little pout, mouth falling open in a gasp.
He leans down to kiss you, both of you keeping up the slow lazy roll of your hips. You feel divine around his swollen, throbbing cock, your pussy gripping it nice and tight.
“Gonna come, lass.” He barely gets out before he’s shoving himself all the way in, grinding hard into your pussy as he fills you full. He’s breathing heavy in your ear, head tucked up under your jaw with your hands twined in his damp hair. He clings to you as his body quivers, deciding that he can never let you go again.
You both roll off the bed when he’s done, hopping in the shower together with only moderate touching. Blessedly, Soap doesn’t pop another immediate boner.
Falling into his bed, he closes his eyes to revel in your scent, letting it envelope him in comfort as he pulls you into his chest. How long had he sought it out, sought you out, when he needed safety? When the demons in his head needed scaring away?
His lieutenant’s arms slide up over his, tucking your head underneath his chin. You sigh in content, snuggling yourself further into the warmth of his body.
“Never seen someone as beautiful as you come in my bed before.” He says, after a few moments.
“You do that a lot?” You joke, drowsy and naked in his arms, “Make pretty girls come in your bed?”
“Never like this.” His nose nuzzles into your hair, “Never meant anything before.”
That seems to sober you in a way, and you roll over to face him. He cracks his eyes open at the feel of your shifting weight, chest constricting at the fact that you were here in his arms. Your eyes search his, and for a moment neither of you speak, so many things left unsaid in the space between you.
“And it does now?” You finally ask, “Mean something?”
“Means everything, lass.” Soap says, tugging you into his chest again. His arms are a solid weight around you, protecting, safe. The heart that beats against his is steady, unwavering.
You wrap an arm around his waist, fingers tracing along old knife wounds across his back, “Let me have you, John.”
“You already do.”
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
You don’t mean to go another round.
He doesn’t know how you go another round. Or two, or three…
But Soap had woken up hard, cock pressed up against your ass with a whispered please, lass against your shoulder. You’d never been able to say no to him before, and he doesn’t think you’re going to when he’s got you wrapped up in his sheets.
Which is how you found yourself face down into the mattress, ass up, throat raw from your moans.
“Fuckin’ soaked for me again.” Soap observes from behind you, voice slurred with lust, dragging his cock through your wet slit, “You always get this wet around me, bonnie?”
“Yes, sir.” You confirm, “Always.”
“‘M gonna be thinkin’ about it now.” He says, “Come Monday, when I’m knifing some fuckin’ commie bastard, ‘m gonna be wonderin’ how wet ye are.”
“And this time, Captain,” You grin, watching him out of the corner of your eyes, “you can find out after.”
He hums, low and raspy, poking the head of his cock just barely into your hole, “Where should I do it? On the plane home, like when you sucked me off? Or switch it up, in a transport vehicle maybe?”
You open your mouth to say something, but he pushes into you, slowly stretching you open, making you feel every inch by inch. It knocks the wind from his lungs, sinking into you, his mind going fuzzy with imaginations of you riding him in the back of an armored vehicle.
Your cheek is pressed to the mattress, fingers bunched in his sheets, with one of his big hands holding your head down as he ruts into you. Every thrust is rough, fast and hard, he just still couldn’t get enough. His hips slam against you, skin slapping together so loud it bounces off the walls.
The fingers of his free hand dig bruises into your hips, while the other tugs your head back, baring your throat to the hot drag of his mouth.
“Listen to you, fuckin’ whimpering fer it.” He pants, “My cock that good, bonnie? Need it tha’ bad?”
You nod frantically, grunting as he drives deep, cock jerking inside you, “Yes, sir. Please.”
“Good,” He hisses through his teeth, “Cause ‘m not fuckin’ stoppin’—”
The door to Soap’s room flings open, nearly sending the occupant himself into cardiac arrest, “Captain, are you alive—oh Jesus Christ!”
He can practically see the smoke from Ghost’s wheels screeching to a halt, his boots squeaking on the floor. You freeze beneath Soap, head thankfully turned away from the door so Ghost can’t immediately see that it’s you in Soap’s bed. Roach rounds the corner and smacks into Ghost’s back, bouncing off of him and then freezing when he too, sees the scene in front of them.
The only one not stopping, is the Captain, continuing to pound his cock into you, as he hisses, “Yes, Ghost, I am alive.”
“Clearly.” Ghost mutters, “Lock your fucking door next time.”
“Knock next time.”
“Whatever, congrats on beating your addiction to viagra.” Ghost says, then pats Roach on the shoulder, “Roach, pack up the sex toys, Cap’s got company instead.”
They back up out of the room, and before the door swings shut, he hears Ghost ask, “Where’s the Lieutenant? She’s gonna love this.”
“God I fucking hate them.” Soap says fondly as the door slams shut.
A laugh bubbles up your throat, “How long do you think they’re gonna look for me?”
“Long enough for us te finish.”
“We shouldn’t stop?” You ask, gasping at a particularly deep stroke.
“Fuck no.”
He fucks you even harder, until you forget all about Ghost and Roach. Until your name and your pussy are the only things in his head.
They’re the only things he wants to think about, anyway.
Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Breeding kink, overstimulation. Needy Simon <3 This man wants you pregnant SO BAD
The wind sends chills rising all along your skin, but the shiver that climbs from the bottom of your spine to the top of your skull isn’t from the cold. Simon’s warm hand engulfs yours, and although he’s attempting to slow his pace, his desperation is ever-present in the way he carefully drags you along. The clack of your heels against the pavement echoes in the air, only drowned out by the sounds of cars driving by and other couples’ chatter as they pass you on the sidewalk. Your husband is quiet as ever, but you can see the way his shoulders heave impatiently.
Simon’s hand grips yours even tighter when the both of you approach the front door to your shared home. He curses under his breath as he fumbles with the key, but when he finally unlocks the door, you barely have time to blink before his lips are on yours. He slams the door shut and locks it without ever pulling away from you, lifting you into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist so he can toss aside your shoes. He kicks off his own boots clumsily, jostling your body in the process. You giggle and scramble to hold onto his shoulders.
“Simon-!”
“Need ya,” your husband whimpers against your lips, pulling away for a second only to lean back in and kiss you even harder.
You let your purse fall off of your shoulder and onto the floor somewhere before your arms wrap around his broad neck. He squeezes at the fat just beneath your ass while he stumbles his way to the bedroom, not bothering to open his eyes even if only to aid him. He’s far from intoxicated—didn’t have a single sip of alcohol at the restaurant—just utterly drunk on you and this newfound need inside of his bones.
Simon tosses you on the bed, but doesn’t let go of you, effectively tackling you. You grunt with the weight of him but he doesn’t seem to care, cusping the back of your head to pull you up and devour your lips more efficiently. Your cool hands run beneath his sweater and up his back, and it makes him shudder against you.
“Take it off,” you demand, huffing in frustration when all he does is shake his head.
In one swift motion, Simon flips the both of you over so that you settle in his lap. Your coat is pulled off of your body and tossed aside carelessly and your dress is the next victim, but you slow your ravenous husband down, cupping his face in your hands.
“Simon,” you breathe, studying his face—his eyes are glossy and his nostrils flare, lips twitching with the need for something to occupy them. “What’s gotten into you, sugar?”
“Need y’so bad,” he whines, blinking up at you through long, blond lashes. “Please, lovie, I can’t- can’t-”
“You’ll get me, Si. Just slow down for a second. Breathe with me.”
Simon inhales deeply as you rub out a knot in his neck, then exhales slowly, just like you instructed him. He repeats the action until his heart no longer feels like it’s trying to burst out of his chest and his fingers aren’t tempted to rip apart the remainder of the clothes you’re wearing. You smile warmly, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. His grip around your waist loosens.
“This isn’t your normal fuck-or-die attitude,” you muse. “Gonna tell me what’s going on in that head?”
“Been thinkin’ f’a while,” he whispers. “B-’bout wha’ y’said.”
“About what?”
“Me bein’ a good… a good dad.”
Your eyes widen, then narrow as you furrow your eyebrows.
“Have you?”
He nods, resting his big hands on your soft thighs and squeezing slightly. His calloused fingertips rub random patterns on your skin and it soothes you, makes you hum contentedly.
“E-everywhere I bloody go, I see birds with a baby on their hip or- or pushin’ a pram and I jus’... I can’ stop thinkin’ ‘bout tha’ bein' you one day,” your husband admits. “I wan’ it t’be you, love.”
You didn’t think it was possible to love this giant, emotional man any more than you already do. You were wrong. The way he’s looking up at you with all the admiration in the world makes your heart flutter and your eyes sting with the threat of falling tears.
“Simon…”
“All I wan’ is f’you t’be happy. I know a baby would make ya happy.”
“But would it make you happy?” You ask, gently running your thumb over the column of his throat.
“Yes,” he whispers with no hesitation. “If y’re happy, then so am I. I’ll give ya anythin’ y’want. I’ll set the world on fire if y’ask me to.”
You hum down at him, searching his eyes for any sort of hesitation or regret. You find nothing but devotion.
“I need to know that this is something that you want. Don’t do it just because of me, sugar,” you frown.
“I do. I do wan’ this, lovie. I wanna see y’be a mum, wanna see li’l versions o’us runnin’ around,” he grins slightly, but there’s something off in his eyes—apprehension. “I need t’know tha’ I can be better than m’own father. Wanna prove tha’ I’m nothin’ like ‘im, tha’ I’m not a-"
“Okay,” you interrupt him softly, not wanting him to fall into the bloodthirsty trap of his mind. “If you’re absolutely sure that this is what you want, I would love nothing more than to have a family with you, Si.”
He grins slightly, then sucks in a deep breath. “I wanna know tha’ I can be good.”
“Oh, honey,” you coo, pressing the softest kiss to his lips. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”
Your husband leans his head up to draw out the contact, pretty brown eyes fluttering shut as you gently scrape your nails over his scalp.
“Please, love. Lemme do this f’ya. F’us,” he whispers into your mouth.
“Put a baby in me, Simon.”
With the widest smile you think you’ve ever seen on your husband’s face, Simon kisses you deeply, his hands working to effortlessly take off your dress. He’s right back to being as desperate as he was when the two of you arrived at home, panting into your mouth and grabbing at every inch of you he can manage. You rock your hips against his to distract him, quickly lifting his shirt off of his body. No matter how many times you see this man naked, he never fails to take your breath away.
“Beautiful,” you murmur, tracing the divet between his pecs with a pointed finger.
Simon playfully throws you off of him. You land on your back on the bed, forced to watch as he unbuckles his belt. He unzips and shoves his jeans down, then kicks them off as he climbs onto the bed right above you.
“Were you not wearing boxers?” You question with a giggle, lifting your hips slightly so that he can pull off your panties with a single motion.
“No,” he breathes out a laugh before connecting lips with you once again.
You wrap your legs around his strong, wide waist and he accepts the invitation, gently slipping his hard cock through your folds. You’re soaked, to his delight, as he coats himself in your slick and prods the head at your entrance. He rests his forehead against yours at the first push of his hips, cooing at the winces of pain you let out.
“M’sorry, lovie, d’ya need m’fingers first? Don’t wanna hur’ ya.”
“No, I can take it,” you pout stubbornly, locking your ankles behind his back.
Simon huffs in a mix of concern and amusement, nuzzling his nose against yours. He bucks his hips again slowly, holding his breath as he rocks back and forth until he finally bottoms out inside of you. He sprinkles kisses all over your face while he waits for you to adjust. You whimper when you’re ready, digging your nails into his shoulders in preparation. He slides out slowly, letting you feel every vein and ridge of his cock, then thrusts back in with a hitched breath.
“Y’feel so good,” Simon slurs, cupping the back of your head and tangling his fingers into your hair for leverage.
You nod dazedly, eyes glossing over in pure bliss as your husband builds a delicious pace, hitting every sensitive spot with practiced precision. His normal grunts of pleasure have been replaced by breathy moans, and his brown eyes are molten with admiration as he holds your gaze.
“Perfec’ girl. My pretty girl,” he sniffles, rubbing his thumbs over the highest parts of your cheekbones. “Love o’my fuckin’ life, y’are.”
“Simon,” you mewl, tilting your chin up to kiss his lips shortly. “I wanna- wanna ride you, can I ride you, baby?”
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, pulling out of the wet clutch of your cunt and resting against the headboard, thick thighs spread and waiting.
With shaky legs, you move to straddle him, placing one hand on his broad shoulder and using the other to guide him back inside of you. You sink back down slowly, shuddering when his tip kisses the plug of your womb. You roll your hips steadily, resting your hands on the sides of his muscular neck. His thick fingers dig into the soft plush of your waist, helping you rock forward and backward and forward again.
“I love you so much,” you whisper, mouth agape. “Simon, I love you.”
“I love y’too, sweet’eart,” he squeezes your skin gently. “More than y’know. Fuck, jus’ like tha’, lovie, feels s’good.”
Simon always knows how to make you cum quickly and efficiently, multiple times—but today, you’re not concerned about that. Tonight is about more than just sex. You want to make it last, make it memorable. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and kiss him there until he shudders and hugs you tightly to him. His chest rises and falls against yours, broken groans and soft whimpers breathed into your ear. It’s slow and sensual, lazy movements performed just enough to intensify the friction.
“You’re so deep,” you murmur, rolling your hips in tiny circles to feel the way his cock twitches against your walls, snug against your cervix.
“I know,” he chuckles breathlessly, matching your movements. “Fuckin’ nothin’ else like it. Y’re made to take me.”
Pulling back, you let your fingernails graze over his biceps gently, grinning at the shudder that rocks through him and the goosebumps that rise as a result. Simon holds you tighter, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you properly, hot breaths exhaled into your mouth in the form of rambled praise. You tug at his hair when the telltale spasm in your lower belly makes itself known, the heat growing to a head. You whimper and rest your forehead against his, hips slowing into odd, jerky movements.
“Si,” you whine, and he takes over for you, planting his feet on the bed in order to fuck up into you.
“I know, lovie, can feel ya squeezin’ me,” he grunts through his teeth as though he’s in pain although you know in truth, it’s quite the opposite. “Cum f’me, sweet’eart. Milk me dry like I know y’can.”
His hips are so strong as they knock up into yours, causing every ounce of luscious fat on your body to jiggle. Simon can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of your belly—the thought of it growing rounder and heavier with his baby growing inside makes him fucking feral. Your walls clamp down on him as though they want the exact same thing he does.
“C’mon, c’mon,” he pants, hands holding your hips in a vice grip that keeps you still and compliant for him. “Feels s’good, love, c’mon… oh, God, fuckin’- please, please, please!”
You throw your head back with a loud cry and dig your nails into your husband’s chest for support. He’s hitting places deeper than you can fathom, quicker than you can handle. Honestly, you weren’t even aware he could move his hips so quickly, especially after being in the service for so many years and sustaining countless injuries. There is no pain present in him now, though, not while he’s practically sobbing out his pleasure as he brings the both of you to climax.
The second he feels you gush around him, Simon is gone. He yells as his heavy balls tighten, ropes of his cum filling your womb. There’s so much of it that it squelches when he keeps thrusting up into you, spilling out and coating his cock with white.
“S-Simon, please, m’too sensitive,” you plead, trying to get him to slow down to no avail.
Instead, he flips you onto your back once again and forces your knees to your chest, draping his heavy body over you. He kisses you apologetically when you let out a pitiful whimper, utterly overstimulated. Although you can feel his cock softening inside of you, his hips show no signs of stopping anytime soon. He rests his forehead against yours and you’re suddenly aware of just how serious he was about getting you pregnant.
“Can’t waste a drop, lovie,” he mutters, entranced. “Gotta keep y’full.”
simon ‘ghost’ riley overstimulating his sweet gf- *
Mail Order Bride- * this story is meant to be open-ended and vague. a collection of scenarios between simon and his mail-ordered bride.
Roomate!Simon Riley taking your virginity- *
His Favorite Nurse- (simon "ghost" riley x nurse reader)
Wife At First Site- * A mini series of drabbles where Simon decides you’re his wife the moment he laid eyes on you
North | Late Blooms- * Post WW1 1920s ish setting. Historical inaccuracy abounds. Gruff Simon Riley. Mentions of warfare, PTSD, gore, overbearing parents. Shameless dedication to the English countryside. Period misogyny and era specific class snobbery. (Gamekeeper Simon Riley x Virgin Fem!Reader)
The Bewitching- * thinking about roommate!simon riley seeing you in your halloween costume. (roomate simon "ghost" riley x reader)
Bartender!Ghost x Waitress!- * You need some extra cash for rent, and you're sick of sitting at home, staring at a computer all day. You hear pub a few blocks away from your flat is looking for a server. Can't be hard, right? Well... the serving part isn't hard. But the brooding bartender that suddenly enters your life is - in more ways than one.
fig. 4. blood in eyes- * There’s someone in the building that messes with his head in a way that it shouldn’t be messed with. (forced mating omegaverse au)
splinter- * your car breaks down in a snowstorm. a crude stranger takes you in from the cold. (simon "ghost" riley x reader)
John Price
Take Me Home, Country Road- * You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au. (sheriff john price x virgin mail order bride reader)
Landscape With Honey- * on AO3 You've been living in this town for almost six months; it's only now that John's picked up on your scent. (bear hybrid john price x reader)
Ursa Major- * on AO3 Lumberjack John Price, retired British Army captain, owns and operates 5,000 acres of selective harvesting land for his logging company. Unfortunately, you work for an environmental firm as a consultant, and it’s your job to tell him he has to stop logging at once since his harvest is encroaching on rare bear habitats. But, something’s not quite right about the bears, or about these lumberjacks, and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it. (hybrid bear john price x reader)
Fall From Grace- * Slight angst. Inexperienced (but not virgin) reader. Smut (oral, f!receiving; PiV, unprotected). 18+ only.
Munch Price Pt.1 Pt.2 - * giver/munch price
Winter Solider Au
fig. 3. heart in flames; baptism by fire- * The universe hasn't seen fit to give Price a mate of his own. He'll have to take matters into his own hands. (forced mating omegaverse au)
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Blackbird, Fly- * After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to be his bride. But when you arrive, you find he is not at all like the man you corresponded with—meanwhile, handsome cowboy Kyle “Gaz” Garrick looks at you like you hung the moon and stars.
fig. 2. teeth in crooked neck- * Ten years is a long time to wait for the love of his life. So when you come to him to ask for his help with your heat, what can Gaz do but accept? (forced mating omegaverse au)
Johnny "Soap" Mactavish
Green Cliffs- * Johnny is the son of a Laird, and he thinks you look an awful lot like the wife that he has been dreaming about. (highlander soap x reader)
Desert Oasis- * (The Mummy AU) When you stumble upon a small metal object engraved with the name of a fabled lost city, suddenly the legend you grew up hearing stories about becomes rooted in more than just fantasy. Arm in arm with your cousin Kyle - and with the help of his old comrade turned treasure hunter whose eyes you can't seem to resist - you venture into the Sahara in search of the truth. But when the truth comes at the cost of humanity's future, will the three of you be enough to keep an ancient curse at bay?
fig. 1. hand in dog mouth- * The first time he smells her from inside the woman's locker room, it brings him to a halt. The human voice in his head grows dimmer and dimmer until it ceases to make a sound. (forced mating omegaverse au)
Konig
King Of The Joust- * 6 part series. you go to a tourney, a knight you’ve never seen before wants your favor. (konig x plus size virgin reader)
Poly 141
Cherry Red, Chrimson Blood- * Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it. (ABO Poly 141 x omega reader)
As Needed- * ongoing 35 part series. Task force 141 has gone without an omega, despite needing one. Is their decision catching up to them? (ABO Poly 141 x omega reader)
Simple Math- * You had a plan, but never could have anticipated… this. ( johnny "soap" mactavish x simon "ghost" riley x nurse!reader)
Soap's Little Plan- * despite having a pack of his own, soap finds himself wanting more. he's grown tired of being the only Omega with 2 unruly Alphas. good thing you showed up, now he can flush those pesky little suppressants and make you theirs. (abo 141 x omega reader)
Kyle, Johnny And Me Makes Three- * You're out dancing one night when a pair of men fall into your orbit. Everything is good until they take you home with them. That's when things start to get a little weird. (kyle "gaz" garrick x reader x johnny "soap" mactavish)
On The Run- * felon/escaped prisoners poly 141 x farmer reader
Tethered Bonds- * A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare? (ABO poly 141 x omega reader)
Red Ochre- * you become the unlikely treasure of two Vikings who raid your convent looking for gold. (viking!ghoap x nun!reader)
More Love Than One Person Can Give- * You always thought you were hard to love because you needed too much attention. Your relationship with John was the best thing that ever happened to you, but he, too, noticed that you needed more. You were terrified that he would leave you like everyone else, unable to satisfy your insatiable hunger for love, but he had a better solution. (poly 141 x reader)
tw: problems with portraying simon’s accent accurately but doing it anyways, p i v obviously, ovulation, reader shy af and can’t talk, let me know if i missed any
you caved and called him in he middle of the day. he picked up after a beat, sounding a little worried.
“yeah?”
your stomach flipped at the grittiness of his voice. he probably hasn’t spoken to anyone today at all for how he sounds like he just woke up.
“hi-i,” you smiled sheepishly, “si, when are you going to be home?” your usual brusque manner of speaking to men forgone at your predispositions today. look at you, all giddy just because you hear him breathe into the phone static.
“‘round seven.”
you audibly whined at that but hoped the crackles of the phone line hid it. that’s too long, it’s only quarter past three pm now.
“something up?”
something was indeed up. besides those horrible cramps, the slashing and poking pain that is killing you the whole day, the dampness between your thighs wouldn’t stop annoying you. you’ve tried everything. toys, fingers, humping a pillow, everything. it wasn’t satisfying. a persistent thought nudged at the corner of your conscience. if si was here you wouldn’t struggle so much.
after a while you just gave up on finishing what you’ve started and curled on your bed, annoyed ball of blankets and pillows. thank god you have your work-from-home-day today.
“no no, i-it’s okay… just need to see you.”
you were mortified. another full 3 hours and then some till he can help you.
“honest?”
you debated it for a while but what is the harm in telling him anyway? he’s a good roommate, he always helps you when you ask.
“no, i-i mean, yeah…,” you stumble over your words, “i just need your help with something.”
you can’t bring yourself to say ‘i really need you to fuck me’.
“wha’s up, bird?” it’s somewhere past seven o’clock in the afternoon. he beelined straight for his bedroom the moment he set foot in your home, where he finds you curled up. his permanently sad eyes look worried, white lashes framing the most beautiful blue oceans you’ve ever seen, eyebrows cinched together.
look at you, all putty just because your roommate has a habit of calling you petnames.
you whimper something about ovulation cramps and show to your belly, pressing on the spot where it’s the most intense.
“here?” he places his hand over yours, warm palm engulfing yours, “i’m sorry. can a massage help?”
“maybe…” you whimper again, your quivering voice just a tone above whisper. look at you, all tingly just because you roommate has a habit of being a gentleman.
“cmon, let me help you.” the warmth of his palm is comforting and you want more of it so you remove your hand and you let him help you. simon puts intermittent pressure on your abdomen which surprisingly works wonders and eases the tense muscles. you relax into it after a while, shoulders falling, letting a big shaky breath out.
“there you go,” he kneads your belly, “better?” a husky whisper burns your ear.
“mhm,” you’re not responsible for what your hips are doing.
“mhm?” he mocks you. the bastard.
“can i help you with anything else, love?” you can hear the smirk on his lips, his fingers still pressing into your abdomen and tracing little clockwise circles, “anything at all?”
you hope that continuing to grind on him would tell him. you hope that the slyness in his tone has good footing behind it. because you, in fact, are a horny mess and words vaporized off your brain’s surface when you felt the dip of the mattress as he laid down behind you and crossed one arm over you. as he whispered, nosing the sensitive space behind your ear, your neck, the ball of your jaw. as he started to grind his bulge into your ass, matching your movements, sharp breaths escaping him all the while.
you feel your pussy lips part, opening just the slightest bit, when you angle your ass towards him even more.
“s-si…,” your broken whisper slid from your throat.
“what is it?”
oh he wants to tease you to death. you whimper, annoyed at him. he still hugs you tightly to his chest and kneads your plush form.
“tell me,” his tone is soft but demanding. he understands your desires, he just needs the vocal approve, “i will do what you need me to. you just need to tell me, love. so, what d’ya want?”
“si, i… can you, please… i need your dick,” is all that you manage. pathetic, but it is what it is.
“you need my dick,” he hums into the lobe of your ear, “where precisely, sugar?”
this is so not fair. he meets you with a push of his hips once again.
you take his hand that rests on your belly and pull it down on your mons.
“here… please…,” you tell him, politely.
his hand travels couple inches down and cups your clothed pussy, the breezy, cold material of your shorts a stark contrast to the heat of his palm.
“want me to fuck you?” he rasps, “need me to fuck you, don’t ‘cha, love?”
he doesn’t wait for your attempt at a comeback, finally.
a breath catches in your throat as his hand slips under your panties and parts your folds baring your puffy pussy to the cold air. you feel his finger on your slit, gathering the slick wetness that pooled at your hole.
“already s’ wet,” he spreads your slick all over your puffy folds, “trouble making yourself come, little one?”
“needed your help…” you pathetically admit.
simon freezes for a split second. he didn’t expect you to call him while he’s at work, and certainly didn’t expect you to be so forward. he usually helps you with your inconveniences, like the true gentleman that he is, whenever you come up to him. that is, usually, late at night, crawling into his bed without knickers on. he always gets you to vocalize your need before he starts anything though. today, you just seem to be in a frenzy.
“trouble, tha’s what you are,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, and slowly pushes one finger in, and you lose it. this is so much better than your fingers.
you still, forgetting to breathe. you want to feel every inch of his thick digit inside of you, curling, prodding your spongy spot, dragging in and out.
somewhere in between the numb buzz of pleasure and the slick sounds that come from beneath his palm your brain conjures up a sentence. you turn your head and part your lips.
“can you kiss me please?” you manage to look up at him through half-lidded eyes, heavy with want.
he chuckles and lowers his head. your dry lips graze his, and as soon as his hot wet tongue makes its way into your mouth your eyes roll back, brain falling into a foggy bliss. this is what you needed - to feel his taste again, to drink him in.
he slowly kisses you while his fingers pump into you, the ball of his palm kissing your clit.
he releases your mouth with a wildly inappropriate wet sound, grinning at you.
“‘course i can, love.”
he’s going to be the death of you.
you are left laying there, mouth open, panting hot short breaths as he suddenly removes his fingers.
they were not enough anyway.
“now,” he said with an urgency, your eyes widening at him licking his fingers, “would you tell me how many orgasms do you need?”
“i don’t know, si! please just… please, put it in…” you whine, the way he’s prolonging your suffering not even slightly funny.
he chuckles again.
“yes ma’am.”
finally you feel him shift to release his cock from his pants, you hear him spit and slather it all over the shaft. simon holds your leg up by your thigh as you’re still laying on your side, his big fingers indenting your flesh, and your abdomen muscles tighten in anticipation when the tip of his cock first prods at your entrance. you go slightly cross-eyed as he slowly slips the head of his cock inside you, the pressure of him alleviating your pain.
“fuck, s’ tight, doll,” he sounds strangled.
the stretch makes your brain go numb, your leg completely slacking in his hold, your head falling back onto the pillow. simon always had that effect on you.
“you ok?” he stops.
“yes, yes, please, simon… don’t stop, please,” you babble out.
“we can do tha,” he nods and grunts, rolling his hips into you while you whine and struggle to keep your conscience.
when his hips are flush with yours, he stills, letting you adjust to his size.
please…” you squeak, mind frenzied with want.
“patience,” he orders, “i don’t wan’ t’ hurt you.”
“you won’t, i’m okay… feels good,” you try to get him to move with whatever hip movement you can muster. he really is taking every chance he gets to annoy you.
simon huffs and shakes his head, you feel his chest heave behind you and his fingers tighten on the flesh of your thigh. his resolve is not endless, you realize. you shimmy a little closer to him, so you can feel more of his skin on yours.
“please?”
your hips violently arch at the first roll and you keen. he sets a pace - shallow thrusts so the most sensitive parts of you can feel the most drag of his cock.
he’s being deliberately slow, as he always is, but tonight it might just make your blood boil.
he ruts into you until your walls start to flutter.
“you have to tell me when you come,” his gritty demand rings in your ears. he slowly brings you to your orgasm.
“i’m gonna…” you breathlessly cannot finish a sentence.
“are you?”
“yes, yes, yes,” you sob, “gonna come!”
simon holds you close while you shudder, slowly driving his cock in and out of you, drawing out your peak, panting into your ear as your walls flutter around him.
“good girl,” he says, slipping his cock out of your heat.
“no, no, wait!” you sound so disappointed, “didn’t want you to pull out.”
simon chuckles and rolls you over to your back, situating himself between your legs.
“feel empty?”
“uhuh,” you nod and grab at his thighs and abdomen trying to get him to be closer, opening your warm soft thighs so sweetly for him.
“don’t worry, love, won’t be for long.”
your gaze darts to his, dark desire and tainted bliss dimming the light blue shade of his eyes. you shudder when he slaps you puffy overstimulated pussy with his slicked heavy cock, tip red and swollen.
“si!” you squeak.
“sensitive?” he asks with a grin, already knowing the answer.
when he presses inside, into you, he lets a moan rip from his throat. you see the muscles on his abdomen rippling under the tight freckled skin and your conscience finally gives out.
“way better with you under me,” he blurts out.
you agree. so much better. so much deeper.
he pushes and pushes and when his hips are flush with yours he settles there, the heavy weight of his body pressing into yours. you love when he goes slow and deep, thumping your slick red pussy lips.
your ankles tremble. despite the lack of control you still want to have the visual of his cock plowing into you.
“so good, si…”
“you feel good, doll,” he has the brain to return your compliment, always does. you don’t know how it is possible but you’re blushing. look at you, look what a compliment does to you. he probably doesn’t even notice it.
but simon does. he does notice all the obscure little things.
he smiles crookedly, dips his head, low on his forearms and gives you a kiss on your cheek. the action almost undoes your tiny mess of a heart.
“i need you to come on my cock again,” the words come punctuated with tight breaths. it’s not so much a request as it is a demand. it’s also a promise. you clenched around him, your pussy even more shy than you are.
he winces when your second orgasm hits you, and holds you by your hips, unceasingly fucking you through it.
“come inside me.”
the words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. his hips falter and break the pace.
“tha’s not fair, you know what this phrase does t’ me,” he tries to save his crumbling sense of control.
“please, please, simon”, you beg him, unbothered of your own shame, “need to feel it, need you to come inside.”
“i can, pretty girl? can pump this pretty pussy of yours full of my come? make you forget your name?” he grunts out, every question punctuated by increasingly harder thrusts.
you nod eagerly. “yes, please. i want it.”
“fuck, doll,” he draws out. he latches his mouth onto your neck and starts pounding into you like it’s the last time he’ll have your body to toy with. it’s not.
you relish in the moment when he starts quietly whining, the sounds of his pleasure only driving yours into the next universe.
he snakes one hand between your bodies and starts flicking your clit, slick with your pleasure. your body thrums under his hands, tingles zapping through you like lightning.
“one more time, doll,” simon rasps, “i need you to come with me. can you do tha’ f’ me?”
“yes, si,” you sob, “please, i’m gonna come!”
your legs fall open further and your tongue falls out of your mouth, completely unsure if you want to receive his seed in your throat or your pussy. let him decide.
his brain short-circuits at the sight, and before he knows better he settles two fingers into your mouth. your tongue immediately swirls around them and you suck on his digits like it’s his slick cock making the inside of your mouth so hot.
you come hard, shuddering, chanting for him to come inside, your vision escaping you as you feel him plug your pussy with his hot seed.
when the panting calms down he rests comfortably atop you, and you are content with it. you don’t want him to pull out.
you both are so far gone.
he lazily laps at your neck and jaw, sucks your earlobe in, nips at your collarbone. kneads your plush hips, denting the sweet flesh. slowly makes you forget your name.
“almost bit my fingers off,” he smiles into the soft spot behind your ear.
you swat at him, granting him your most colorful laugh yet. simon is giddy for he is the only one here to behold you as you are.
“thanks,” you whisper into his hair, “doesn’t hurt anymore.”
he gives your hip a firm squeeze.
“always happy to lend a hand for my sweet girl.”
“oh, that, you are,” you giggle.
contentment swirls comfortably in your body. as you’re laying in his bed, under his weight, you realize you won’t ever ask anyone else for help. you both know of it.
i do not consent to feeding ai with my works so shoo the fuck away
it was just another Wednesday to get by, you finish your morning shift and head home, tired, barely walking from all the standing and serving. the time passes slowly as you watch kids cross the street to head home after they've also had a long day at school.
then he comes, in a rugged bike, slowing down just before he almost runs over a kid at his front tire. something in your heart jumps. you don't know was it concern for the kid, or the man on the bike.
you can see his muscles ripple under all that leathery gear, and holy fuck, does it get you looking like allured when you slow down with your walk. he looks your way maybe once or barely glances at something your way then he speeds off as soon as the light turns green. you're left wondering whether or not he would've stopped at the red light if there were no kids, but you're glad he did. he looked your way.
while knowing it wasn't gonna be anything meaningful, a part of you hoped to see what's under the helmet. he reminded you an awful lot about Simon ghost riley if fanfiction were to ever meet real life.
but you forget about him the week day at work, too busy with tasks at hand. you knew nothing would come out of your little twisted up fantasy.
one random night you enter your apartment when you began working second shift the doors wierdly unlocked. did I forget to lock them? so when you step inside and see everything in place, you sigh from relief. noone broke in.
that's what you thought as you just swung the doors of you bedroom open, ready to immerse yourself in your normal schedule after too much talking with customers. you didn't expect to be literally jumpscared by a man in military cargos, tight leather jacket. the one you remember. you managed to barely hold in a scream as you realised who it was. Ghost.
his helmet in his hand and his mask on his face, manspreading on your bed as he looked at all the stuff of him you had on your wall. posters upon posters, upon pictures, upon prints, upon drawings. he looked unamused but you could feel yourself trembling in shame and arousal. how does one find such a perfect moment to show up.
"you've got good taste, kid." he grumbled while his head craned to look you in the eyes. groaning, he stands up, dropping the helmet on the floor as it rolls off. he's quick to grab you by the neck before you can land a step back. "you summoned me. been searching for you all over the city." he was angry, rightfully so.
"wha- no—!"you try to defend yourself but he squeezed harder
"you think all these posters are for nothing? you think you can just obsess over me and expect nothing to happen, eh? you summoned me and now you'll pay the price.
you mind was going blank, and you were pathetically trying not to moan. you didn't even know if it was true. the game never showed his face, it could be anyone behind the mask. you didn't even know was this real, because all your thoughts were interrupted by the lack of blood flow to your brain.
"desperate little thing." he growls as he leans in your face but relents his hold on your neck. while he doesn't remove it he keep the hand there, domineering, controlling, possessive. even mutually just as obsessive.
"says the one who came here." you quip, but it's quickly forgotten after he's managed to buckle you knees by squeezing your airways.
"brat. you're the one obsessing over me, I had no choice but to come see my devoted fan." he grins devilishly.
"le-lemme go.." you wince and whine
"say please and I'll go."
"pfffft, you wish don't you?"
"dont sass me, kid. I can only guess what you've done while looking at those pictures of me across your bed."
you refuse to give into him, but he's exactly like in the game, the tattoos, the voice, even his snickers and those deep chuckles.
your body is at a disadvantage, you're feeling your folds wetten, and you've began blushing like he's not choking you out. and while he's not momentarily aware that he's got you in the position where he could literally rail you and you'd thank him, he seems suprised that youre not exactly trying to escape him, just holding onto his hand and panting for air with those little sassy words of yours.
"all bark and no bite. fucking hell, look at you. blushing and squirming and I'm barely doing anything." he growls when he sees your glare "quit looking at me like ive killed your family, like you haven't been having dreams of me."
"don't.. flatter yourself." you rasped out
"I dont need to, your wall did it for me, kid."
instead of an actualcocky reply you gruffly say "I like you better without the mask."
"so take it off." he encourages, hand relenting on your neck.
"no. you're a hallucination and you're toying with me."
God how annoying is this woman?? he pulls his mask off in one simple pull and instead of letting you go he slams you into the wall "you think this is just a figment of what you've been thinking about? just a joke? God, I wish it was a joke. its not a joke, is it? I can see you get turned on right in-front of my eyes and you call me some imaginative piece of your brain. how fucking fancy of you."
you're not able to stop the whine from your lips as he shoved you into the wall. "okay, okay. you're real, I get it." you say almost timidly as his striking handsome-ness strikes your hard. "I used to wonder how rough you are, now I need to know can you be soft."
"oh I can be plenty soft. but that's not what you need, you don't strike me as that type who enjoys being spooned at a beachy sunset. to me it seems that you're more into 'bend you over and shove your face down'." ghost had no shame, no hidden intentions for what he's about to do. he's already gripping your hips, half hard in cargos as he pinned your hips against his crotch.
"I seem to be into delusional men in camouflage cargos." you reply with snark.
"you might like me more than you think." he smirks, his teeth shining through as he hooks a calloused finger around your shirt "let's take this off yeah? no need to resist me. I can see you want me."
"hey, woah. you don't get to be flashed just because I summoned you or whatever." your hands a little hesitant at the hem of your shirt, desire coiling in your core as you feel him twitch in his pants.
"you feel me? you don't want me buried balls deep into your pretty little cunt eh?" he croons in your neck, hands removing yours from the hem of your shirt. he started sucking on your neck in such a sly manner, you'd think this man was raised by a crowd of foxes. his hand undoes your bra clasp, hands forcing yours away as you restrain him from touching your body. "let me do this. the less you resist the less its gonna hurt." he warns, and he means it.
"youre filthy." exasperation Pro max is speaking, but you're also melting at the reassurance he gives.
he forces your hands away from your breasts, thumb hooking up on your shirt and bra before he pulls it up to reveal your aroused nipples. he doesn't attack them right away, kissing at your neck and marking it like a wild animal experiencing rut for the first time. fingers pinching at your nipples as you squirm, wincing in both pleasure and pain. "good fucking girl. bet you're loving this aye?" he grins before he cups the underside of your boob and gives it a nasty, wet lick before wrapping up his lips around your nipple.
you yelp a little, the sensation sending hoards of arousal at your clit and core. you can feel globs of wetness coat your entrance as your hand hesitantly wanders through his hair as you moan and whine helplessly "ghost.."
he let's go of your nipple with a lewd, wet sound "you gonna let me fuck this cunt proper or complain?"
your eyes were full of lusty haze, nodding as a reply he makes it his mission to take off everything and fuck you raw in missionary.
it's what you've been imagining, too, when you touched yourself while looking at the posters on your wall, him so deep inside that it's hard to believe he won't cum inside.
"damned eager your cunt is, could get you killed someday." he growls as he helps you undress, then u dressing himself. his boxers are the last to come off and his cock springs up. the tip was a deep pinkish red from arousal and leaking with precum.
"im glad you're not gonna kill me." you mutter weakly, legs clasped together, but he pulls you by the ankles at the edge of the bed, spreading you as his gloved hand reached down, finding your clit. back uncontrollably arching at his touch.
he pulls his hand away to see the fingertips of the glove soaked, he takes those off too, coating his fingers in his spit and your wet arousal, he shoved two fingers in your entrance, knuckles deep. "yer so fucking eager I bet you can take my cock without prepping." his voice rougher, accent induced as he positioned himself at your entrance, tip sinking in your heat with ease.
you claw at the sheets, mewling at the slow stretch. it's stinging but it feels too good to complain.
"fuck, look at you. with all that shyness gone, now you're just an eager little cunt for me to use." he says as he kept his pace steady, sinking in your gummy, soft walls with slow precision as he sees the way you wrap up around him tightly. he feels you flutter around him, squeezing and he's not even filled you up with all his length. "youre gonna snap my dick in half if you keep squeezing it like that, relax." he murmurs as his thumb circles your clit and the other hooks your leg around his hip. "there you are." he asserted as he plunged the rest of him balls deep and leaned his chest against you "you just need a little extra attention eh? filthy thing."
"please." you whimper mindlessly.
"please what, swan? say it so I can understand." he asserted lowly in your ear, now having you in missionary.
"move, please."
"good girl, that's what I want to hear."
he rocks his hips slowly and began moving quicker untill he saw tour face contour with pleasure. the pace he set gave you enough time to have you writhing and shaking under him. he's at advantage, big one at that. he knows it too, cocky bastard. "youre welcoming me so deep, swan. can feel your cervix right at my tip all eager to swallow up the seed I give it."
"please, no... I'm not ready to be a mom yet." you try to wriggle out of his grasp but he grabs your hips and slams your cock deep inside you again
"you think I'll leave you pregnant? bold of you to assume I want that responsibility." he says huskily at the supple skin of your neck before biting down on it, leaving indents in the shape of his teeth.
"mmmhhh, don't stop." you hands wrap around his shoulders, digging your nails into the wide area under your palms.
"wasn't planning on it, swan." he says as he thrusts deep and slow, measured on purpose to elicit the utmost pleasure out of you both without tiring him out. he's saving the heat for last. thumb eight-ing at your clit while he marks you over and over again but nothing prepared him for the way you squirt on his cock, soaking his balls with your fluids. "dont stop eh? you wanted to squirt all over me huh? a filthy swan, you are." but now he has even more reason to speed up, finger putting more pressure at your clit while he rams inside you.
"fuck, pleasee..."
"so fucked out, letting me pound you like a damn slut you are for me. my slut ain't you swan? mine?" his voice bordering on possessive obsession while the air in your room smelled like sex and musk.
you nod frantically, tears pooling up in your eyes at the way hes fucking you so flawlessly. he likes the sight of your flushed, fucked out face.
"you gonna cum for me, swan? gonna stain my cock with your cum?" he eggs you on, pace fast as he grips your waist and makes your back arch, breasts bouncing with each deep and quick thrusts leaving you breathless.
"yes, I'm gonna... I'm close. keep going, please." your your broken.
he grabs your hand, letting you feel the bulge in your lower abdomen of how deep he's inside "it's a shame you won't let me cum inside. bet you'd make pretty babies." he cooed.
your walls tighten around him, squeezing and milking if he has to give anything. your orgasm hits both of you hard, and he fucks you through the high. he doesn't cum inside although it took everything in him to just not tut into you and paint your womb with his hot seed. instead he grabs the hand he put on your abdomen and pulls it lower, fucking the skin of your crotch and palm as he shoots ropes of cum between your sweat coated skin.
he pressed a hard kiss to your lips, plopping ontop of you with a groan. you whine softly at his weight ontop of you. "I can't breathe, get off you brute." but he just moves lower and kisses your neck.
"no way in hell."
"fine." you huff, "just don't crush me in your sleep."
"won't want my little swan gone so soon." he teased.
the two of you cuddled up nicely after you've both been sated of your desires. you thought you're imagining a soft smile on his face when you woke up the following morning after he fell asleep with you, his hands still wrapped up like a vice around your waist.
perhaps you'll get to keep this summoned luck, so you crawl put of his hold and his grip to get up to make tea.
original inspiration by: @elenazmaj s room posters which I got to see hehehe
summary: simon lets the others take a turn with his perfect girl.
warnings: smut no plot, established relationship (simon+reader), threesome/foursome, double penetration (vaginal), oral (m receiving), overstimulation, choking, name-calling, spanking, praise kink, degration kink, possessiveness, rough sex, multiple partners, pet names (bunny, etc), crying during sex, soft aftercare. wc: 4.8k words of pure filth
you don’t even remember how it started.
simon had been possessive all week — keeping you close, fucking you harder than usual, always muttering shit like mine under his breath when he thought you weren’t listening.
you knew why.
the way könig and price kept looking at you.
price had always been a little too familiar. liked talking to you when simon was gone. liked watching your mouth when you drank from your water bottle. liked the way you bit your lip when you were nervous and looked down when he stared too long.
könig was quieter about it. more subtle. always careful — respectful. but it was the way he moved when you were in the room. the way his eyes dragged over your legs. the way his voice dipped when he said your name.
and maybe you weren’t as innocent as you pretended to be.
maybe you liked the attention.
maybe that’s why you wore those shorts around base. maybe that’s why you always laughed a little too hard at their jokes. maybe that’s why, when price caught your chin between his fingers that night and said “bet you’d look even prettier with tears down your cheeks” — you didn’t pull away.
you looked at simon.
and he didn’t stop him.
he just said, “don’t be gentle with her. she can take it.”
your knees hit the mattress first.
you’re already naked, already breathless, and simon’s behind you with his hand curled around the back of your neck, pressing your chest into the sheets.
“look at her,” price mutters from the end of the bed, voice thick. “fuckin’ droolin’ already.”
“poor thing,” könig hums behind his mask, kneeling beside you. “is this too much, maus?”
you shake your head fast, squirming under simon’s hold. your thighs are already sticky, your cunt clenching around nothing. you’ve never been so worked up just from being looked at.
simon leans down and kisses your temple.
“good girl,” he murmurs. “you tell me if it’s too much, yeah? color system?”
you nod.
“green,” you breathe. “i’m good.”
price chuckles.
“we’ll see how long that lasts.”
simon fucks you first.
he says it’s to get you “warmed up,” but he’s just greedy — he has to be inside you before anyone else.
you’re on your back now, legs open, hands pinned above your head. simon’s above you, slow and deep and filthy with the way he talks you through it.
“look at you,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “so fuckin’ pretty underneath me. takin’ my cock like you were made for it.”
you whimper. your back arches. he’s hitting every spot, slow and mean, just enough to make your toes curl.
“she always this loud?” price mutters from the chair in the corner, watching with his legs spread. he’s palming his cock through his jeans. “or are you showin’ off, sweetheart?”
you moan louder on purpose.
simon leans down, kisses your throat, then licks a long stripe up to your jaw.
“she wants to show off,” he says, low. “let her.”
“slut,” price mutters, unzipping. “she’ll be beggin’ for more soon enough.”
könig’s beside the bed now, his massive hand stroking slowly as he watches your cunt stretch around simon’s cock.
“du bist wunderschön,” he says under his breath, voice thick. “so warm… so wet…”
you’re soaked. it’s obscene — the way you’re already shaking, already clinging to simon’s back like you can’t take it.
but you don’t tell him to stop.
you need more.
simon lets you come twice before he pulls out.
he’s still so gentle with you — his voice low, his praise soft — but he holds you down while you writhe through your second orgasm, pressing kisses to your jaw while his cock slides out of your soaked cunt with a wet, messy sound.
“that’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “good girl. that’s my sweet girl.”
you’re still panting, thighs trembling, skin flushed and sticky when price comes up behind him.
“move.”
simon raises a brow.
price looks calm — terrifyingly calm — while he strokes himself lazily, eyes trained on your wrecked body like he’s already imagining you in tears again.
“you said don’t be gentle,” he mutters, sliding two fingers between your folds, spreading your slick. “gonna hold to that.”
simon doesn’t argue. just kisses your cheek and steps aside.
price grabs you by the hips, flips you fast, and presses your face into the sheets.
you don’t even have time to gasp before he spits on your cunt and slides in with one deep thrust.
you scream.
“oh, there she is,” he mutters, hips snapping into yours. “that’s what i fuckin’ thought. mouthy little brat’s just a cock-drunk whore.”
his pace is brutal. fast. mean. no build-up. he’s fucking you like he’s trying to prove a point, and maybe he is — maybe he wants you ruined. destroyed. too dumb to even remember your name.
you’re crying, one hand gripping the sheets, the other reaching behind you like you don’t know if you want to push him away or pull him deeper.
“look at her,” he growls, yanking your hair back. “simon, you fuckin’ train her like this? can’t even take a proper pounding.”
“she can take it,” simon says, sitting at the edge of the bed, watching with his cock in hand. “she just needs a minute.”
price slaps your ass — hard.
you jolt, sobbing.
“no minutes. not for sluts.”
he wraps a hand around your throat and pulls you back, so your spine arches and you’re crying out into the air.
“what are you?”
“i-i’m a slut—”
“what kind?”
“f-for you—”
he slaps your tit.
“louder.”
“m’your slut, captain—!”
you hear simon groan under his breath. you see könig bite his lip through the mask.
“scheiße,” könig whispers. “she’s perfect.”
price finally lets go of your throat and pulls out. you’re trembling — wrecked — barely holding yourself up on your elbows.
“flip her again,” he mutters. “wanna see her face when she gags.”
you’re dizzy, flushed, breathless, but you obey — roll to your back, eyes glassy.
könig leans over you, massive hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you down the mattress toward him.
“you okay, liebling?” he murmurs, lowering his mask just enough to kiss your temple. “you say the word, we stop.”
you nod fast, throat tight.
“g-green.”
he kisses you again — softer this time — then slides his cock between your lips.
and you try to be good.
you really do.
but könig’s big, thicker than you expected, and he goes slow at first — until he hears simon whisper “she can take more” behind you, and then he grabs your jaw with both hands and starts fucking your mouth deep.
you gag, throat flexing, spit sliding down your chin.
price slides two fingers back into your cunt and starts fucking you while könig’s cock is in your mouth.
“this what you wanted?” price mutters, watching the way your thighs twitch. “fuckin’ messy little girl with her mouth full and her cunt wide open?”
simon’s behind you now, kissing your neck, stroking your ribs.
“you’re doin’ so good, bunny,” he whispers. “they don’t even know how perfect you are yet.”
you try to moan but könig groans low and holds your head down, cock deep in your throat while your eyes roll back.
you’re losing it. barely holding on. overstimmed already.
and they haven’t even fucked you together yet.
you’re trembling.
legs wide. thighs soaked. arms limp on the mattress while price fingers you open and simon kisses your cheek and könig strokes his cock just a few inches from your face.
“gonna give her a minute?” simon murmurs, thumb brushing your ribs. “she’s sensitive.”
price scoffs.
“she’ll live.”
you whimper.
price pulls his fingers out — and spits on your cunt again. your thighs twitch. simon grips your hand, gently, lovingly.
“breathe, baby,” he whispers. “i got you.”
price’s cock is already hard again. he rubs the tip through your folds, presses the head against your pussy — and simon does the same right behind him.
your eyes go wide.
“w-wait—”
price slaps your thigh.
“you can take it.”
“we’ll go slow, bunny,” simon murmurs, softer. “just breathe. i won’t let go.”
and he doesn’t.
he stays right beside you, holding your hand, kissing your shoulder, whispering you can do it, sweet girl, while two thick cocks start pushing into your pussy at once.
you sob. whimper. gasp.
you’ve never been this full. never been stretched this wide.
your eyes roll back.
“fuck,” price growls. “tight little thing.”
“she’s takin’ it so good,” simon mutters. “fuckin’ angel.”
when they bottom out — both of them — you’re a mess.
tears spill down your cheeks. your thighs tremble violently. simon kisses them.
“that’s my girl.”
price grabs your jaw.
“say it,” he hisses. “tell me you’re a cockdrunk whore.”
you whimper.
“i-i’m— i’m a cockdrunk whore—”
“fuckin’ right you are.”
they start to move.
slow at first — long, grinding thrusts that make you sob — then faster. rougher. harder.
you can barely breathe.
you’re so full. too full. every stroke makes you shudder, shake, scream, twitch. there’s no space to think, no chance to catch your breath.
simon’s praising you.
price is degrading you.
you’re just their bunny. their fuckpet. their slut.
and then könig kneels beside your head and lifts his mask again.
“open,” he growls, and you do — you open wide, tongue out, drool already spilling — and he shoves his cock into your throat while the other two keep fucking you.
you gag.
you twitch.
you cry.
price slaps your tits.
simon rubs your clit.
könig whispers good girl while he fucks your throat and cups your cheek and watches your eyes glaze over with dumb, messy tears.
your body’s on fire.
“she’s gonna break,” simon whispers, watching you fall apart.
“good,” price mutters, gritting his teeth. “that’s what she wanted, innit?”
könig’s thrusts get sloppy — rough and fast — and he grunts a warning, one big hand gripping your jaw tight.
he pulls out and groans low as he finishes on your tits.
simon’s still holding your hand.
you sob through it.
then simon kisses your temple and moves behind you — gently brushing your hair back — and price shifts in front.
“again,” price growls. “until she screams.”
you’re limp now.
completely soft in simon’s arms, thighs shaking and sore, pretty mouth open as he strokes his fingers along your cheek and whispers praises in your ear.
“you did so good, bunny. so fuckin’ good for us.”
you whimper.
your cunt’s still twitching. stretched, aching, wet and swollen. you’re still leaking from the last round and now—now könig’s huge hand is sliding down your belly and between your legs.
“shhh, mein schatz,” he murmurs, kissing your jaw. “you’re okay. just breathe.”
your whole body twitches.
you shake your head. you try to say “too much” but it comes out like a breathless whine and—
you blink up at him. try to focus. try to think. but then könig’s fingers are inside you again—two, then three—and he’s groaning when he feels how sloppy and warm you still are.
“you’re ready for me,” he says, voice low and dark. “ready for my cock.”
price laughs.
“that ruined cunt’s ready for anyone.”
you flinch—but simon kisses your forehead.
“don’t listen to him,” he whispers. “you’re perfect, baby. fuckin’ perfect.”
“and filthy,” price adds. “don’t forget that.”
you’re crying before könig’s even inside you.
but when he presses in—slow, thick, deeper than deep—your body seizes, and simon has to hold you tighter just to keep you from shaking apart.
“good girl,” könig growls, cock sliding in inch by inch. “my brave, brave girl.”
you sob into simon’s neck.
his arms wrap tighter.
“you’re okay,” he says gently. “he’s almost there. you’re takin’ it so well.”
you feel so full you might break.
your cunt spasms and clenches and your hips jerk up without meaning to, and könig growls again, grabs your thighs, and starts to fuck into you—harder. deeper. steady and slow but so brutal, like he’s trying to reach your heart through your cunt.
price watches from the end of the bed.
arms crossed. amused.
“can’t believe she’s still takin’ cock,” he mutters.
“’course she is,” simon murmurs, kissing your cheek. “she’s my good girl.”
“your good girl’s droolin’.”
he’s right.
you are.
your mouth is open, jaw slack, tears spilling from your eyes and spit slipping down your chin, but you don’t care. all you can feel is könig, simon, simon, könig, praise and pressure and pain all tangled into something unbearable.
and then—
könig’s hand closes around your throat.
you whine—loud and high—and simon grabs your hand, kisses it, presses it to his chest like he’s anchoring you while könig chokes you with one hand and fucks you with the other.
“feel that?” könig growls. “feel how tight you are?”
you nod frantically.
“say it.”
“…so tight,” you sob. “s-so f-full—”
he thrusts deeper, harder.
your eyes roll back.
“you’re gonna come again,” simon whispers. “i know you are, bunny. just one more, yeah?”
you shake your head, but you’re already close.
your body knows it better than your mind.
price leans forward.
“you come on his cock, i’ll make you come again after,” he mutters. “don’t be shy, sweetheart. show us how fuckin’ filthy you are.”
you moan.
you scream.
you break.
your body convulses, mouth wide, eyes shut, and your orgasm hits like lightning—shaking through you, raw, endless—and könig fucks you through it like he’s trying to split you in two.
simon just holds you.
whispers soft praise.
presses kisses to your sweaty forehead like you’re not being ruined right in front of him.
you barely register when it ends.
könig pulls out slow, careful. simon whispers something against your temple. price grunts as he wipes you down with a warm cloth, gently — no more teasing, no more filth, just quiet hands and steady movements.
your eyes are half-closed.
you’re still shaking.
you try to sit up, but simon presses a hand to your chest.
“easy, bunny,” he murmurs. “don’t move yet.”
you let your head fall back.
your skin is sticky with sweat. your thighs ache. your cunt feels swollen and used and wet with more than just your own arousal. and yet—you feel safe. cradled. protected.
you blink up at the ceiling.
your mouth opens, then closes again.
“she’s out of it,” price mutters, crouching beside the bed. he runs two fingers across your forehead, brushing back your hair. “not surprised. took three of us.”
“let’s run her a bath,” simon says. “hot water’ll help.”
“i’ll do it,” könig offers softly, already on his feet.
you hear water running in the other room.
hear towels being unfolded. doors creaking. someone — probably simon — rummaging through drawers.
price’s hand rests on your knee.
he doesn’t say anything.
he just stays there until the water stops.
you don’t remember being carried.
you’re in simon’s arms, then könig’s hands are helping guide you down into the bath. the water’s hot — just how you like it — and your body folds into it with a shuddering sigh.
“there we go,” simon breathes, crouched beside the tub. “that’s it, baby.”
your head lolls against the back of the tub.
price crouches beside you and tilts your chin up.
“you with us, sweetheart?”
you nod. slow. weak.
“…tired,” you mumble.
“no sleep yet,” he mutters, brushing a finger under your eye. “you sleep now and you’ll drown.”
“we’ll help,” könig says, and he lowers himself behind you into the tub, pulling you back gently into his chest. “just lean on me, mein schatz.”
your eyes close. your fingers twitch.
you feel lips at your temple — simon.
you feel someone washing your thighs — price.
you feel könig’s hands stroking your stomach, your arms, whispering soft german that melts into the steam.
you’re warm.
held.
safe.
“you did so good, bunny,” simon murmurs, brushing a sponge over your collarbone. “so proud of you.”
“took us all,” price adds, voice low. “took it like a proper slut.”
könig chuckles.
“a good slut,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder. “our perfect little pet.”
you hum — a soft, broken little noise — and simon smiles.
“you can sleep soon,” he promises, “but not yet, yeah?”
you try to nod, but your head just rolls toward him.
he strokes your jaw.
price washes between your legs with slow, reverent fingers.
könig holds you steady and hums under his breath.
“we’ll take care of you,” simon whispers. “always.”
and when they dry you off — with warm towels and steady hands — you don’t even notice when you’re carried back to bed.
all three of them climb in with you.
price behind you. simon at your front. könig at your feet, rubbing your calves.
you fall asleep with simon’s hand on your chest, price’s breath against your neck, and könig’s soft voice murmuring, “du gehörst uns.”
Summary: You’re his assistant and he needs help with something a bit more… physical
CW (MDNI): Fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), unprotected PIV, creampie, some degradation, praise :)))), Price is a bit mean to you oops, spitting, ROUGH sex, age gap (legal ofc), hints of manipulation(?), sir kink???, dom price, sub reader
Word Count: 3,304
Masterlist
Working for the Military was a difficult job. Sure, you weren’t doing any physical labor but my God, the demands some of these men had pushed you to the absolute limit, the fluttering of a migraine swarming you like bees the moment you stepped foot on base.
It wasn’t their fault, they spent most of their time training, or fighting, or off hunting down a terrorist so if you could help them out by completing some of their much needed paperwork, you were happy to oblige. I mean, who could say no to dear Johnny’s face?
For the most part, your work was thorough, always completing it to the best of your ability and you were very proud of that. However, sometimes you happen to accidentally neglect the man you’re actually here for.
Captain Price.
While you were technically only his assistant, it was so difficult to turn down the other men. Their gruelling faces and scarred hands always felt like a knife twisting in you as you quickly grabbed their paperwork, ushering that this was going to be the last time you would help them out (it wasn’t).
So now, you find yourself here, sitting nervously in the leather chair across from the Captain’s desk, irritated scowl on his face as he inhaled his cigar, a thick puff of smoke exhibiting across the room before he placed it on the ash tray.
He rubbed his hands across his exhausted face as he sighed, “Sweetheart, I told you I needed that paperwork done by today and sent off to Laswell. I knew it was going to be a lot to handle so I purposely gave it to you early and have left you alone since.”
His tone was harsh and disappointed. You felt like a child being scolded for accidentally breaking something important.
“Sir, I-“
“You think I don’t know that you spend your time helping out my other men? I mean Christ, I understand you want to feel important around here but how will anyone take you seriously if you can’t even do the work for the one person you’re supposed to do it for,” his words were cruel, degrading you as you stooped lower into the chair, a pit forming in your belly as you avoided his angry eyes.
“Sir, I understand that I made a mistak-“
“Mistake?” He spat, voice growing gradually louder, “This isn’t a mistake, y/n, you neglected the work you were supposed to be doing all because you wanted to impress a few men in the military!”
You looked up at him, his words stinging you. You weren’t trying to impress them, you were only trying to help. “Captain Price, I understand your anger but you don’t need to result to shaming me,” your voice was heavy, the undertones of embarrassment evident as you diverted your tear-streaked eyes.
He let out a deep sigh, taking in your skulking frame. “This work is important, y/n, if you can’t handle it, I think it’s best if you either transfer or resign.”
Transfer? Resign? You had worked your ass off for over a year. Dealing with his shit, Soap’s shit, Ghost’s shit, Gaz’s shit! You make one mistake and suddenly you’re incompetent?
“I’ve been slaving away for you for over a year now. I understand that work is important and I can guarantee you that I can get it done by today, the latest by tomorrow, so instead of sitting here and lecturing me, when you know damn well how capable I am is a waste of both our times!”
You didn’t mean to yell, he knew that by the quickly changed expression once you had stopped. “Are you done?” He asked, voice gentle.
You nodded, embarrassed, as he handed you the paperwork, your nimbly fingers gripping onto them as you quickly left his office, kitten heels clicking against the floor as you scrambled to your own space.
By the time you were done, the sun had well set and almost everyone had gone home. You were praying that included Price. You turned off your little lamp, clutching your shoulder bag as you neatly stacked the paperwork in your arms, putting off the walk to his office.
Your walk sounded throughout the hallway, evident anxiety on your face as you stood outside the door, the large CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE sign glaring back at you. You sounded a small knock, praying no one answered but you found yourself letting out a small groan once you heard a deep, ‘come in’.
You opened the door nervously, palms clammy as you looked at him, nearly empty glass of scotch on his desk and his tired eyes glaring back at you.
“Sir, I finished it,” you said, placing the paperwork on his desk, “I’m sorry that it’s slightly overdue. It won’t happen again.”
He let out a breath, gentle smile on his face as he gestured you to sit down. You awkwardly obliged, fighting the ability to follow his order, but also to excuse yourself.
“Listen sweetheart, I’m sorry about what I said. You’re a very capable young woman, you’ve helped me, us, all. I just don’t want you to take on things that you don’t want to. The boys are very grown men, they kill for a living, doing a tiny bit of paperwork won’t dent their fingers.”
“I understand that, Sir.. I just.. want to help, I guess. It feels nice knowing people, important people, come to me for help… and even if it’s just because they don’t want to it themselves, it makes me feel good knowing they trust me to do it.”
“Like I said, you’re very capable. Just don’t want my men stealing my best girl I suppose.”
His words took you off guard, heat rising in your face as you looked down, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. “I try my best for you Sir,” you reply, still avoiding eye contact.
“Didn’t mean those things earlier, you know that?”
You nodded, still looking down as he cleared his throat. “Come ‘ere,” he said, voice gruff as he tapped on his desk.
You looked at him in surprise, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you hesitatingly got up, walking over to his side before plonking your ass down gently, almost like you were testing the waters.
“I’m sure you could handle anything I gave you, hm?” His tone was sickly, a teasing arrogance lacing his every word as you felt his hand graze your stocking-covered thigh, pencil skirt riding up at your seated position.
You nodded, mouth suddenly going dry, barely being able to think as you felt his every stroke against you.
“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”
“Y-Yes sir, yes, I can handle whatever you give me.”
He smiled, looking pleased as he stroked further up your thigh before placing a gentle kiss right above your knee. Nerves bubbled in your belly. Of course you wanted this. It was Price. You mainly took the job because you enjoyed looking at him, his rugged frame, laced with muscle from the years of hard work, tall body towering you whenever you stood too close.
His eyes watched you twitch slightly as his movements, taking in how nervous you were, yet so, so obedient. “You wanna prove to me how capable you are, hm?”
“Yes sir,” you nodded, your lips dry as your tongue darted out to lick them, cerulean blue darting down to watch the muscle lap at the fullness of them.
“On your knees,” he commanded as you immediately hopped off the table, dropping almost desperately to the floor as you perched between his thighs. His cargo pants were tight, almost straining against the visible hump near his crotch. Your mouth practically watered at how well he was filling them out.
Your hands gently reached up, stroking his covered bulge as you finally took in just how big he was. You weren’t a virgin, but if he was as big as you could feel, you just weren’t sure it would fit.
No, you could take it. You would show him you could take whatever he gives you.
His veined hands reached up to tug down the zipper, standing briefly as they dropped to his feet, now standing in his boxers. His cock was thick, practically tearing through the thin fabric as your eyes focused on the dark, wet patch prominent next to the head.
You watched carefully as he tugged them down too, thick, angry cock bulging out as you took in the sheer size of it. Jesus fucking Christ.
He took in the nerves in your eyes, hand reaching down to stroke your cheek as your eyes ogled the ginormous girth in-front of you. “Still think you can handle it?” His tone was cheeky, almost mocking as his thumb graced over your lips.
You didn’t reply, only reaching forward to balance yourself on his thighs, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as you kitten licked the tip. You could taste his salty precum, a string of saliva connected your mouth to his member before he hissed, your lips wrapping around the tip as you sucked gently, your eyes looking up at his face.
You pulled back and spat, a thick glob of saliva landing on his throbbing head as you curled your wrists around, lubricating it before taking him back into your mouth. You steadied your movements, building a strong pace as your head bobbled, taking him down your throat slightly as you gagged, your other hand working the remainder of what wouldn’t fit.
A hand wrapped around the base of your hair as he guided your movements, his hips bucking slightly as he groaned.
“That’s it baby, take my dick. Doing such a good job.”
His praise only edged you on, your mouth taking more of him as you spluttered, tears welling in your eyes as you watched his face contort with pleasure through wet lashes.
Your other hand nestled at his balls, thick hair lightly covering it as he practically growled at the sensation. You could feel his pubic hair against your nose as you swallowed around his cock, spit stringing down your chin making you look almost pornographic.
His grunts and moans egged you on as you continued to bob up and down his legs before he was pulling you off of him, his cock throbbing angrily, tip flushed a deep red as you gasped for air.
“I’ll cum down your throat another time, pretty, okay? Right now I gotta feel how tight your cunt is around me.”
You yelped in response, hands grabbing to lift you back up onto the table as he stood up, digits grabbing out to undo the buttons of your blouse before he growled, frustrated taking over him as he ripped it, the sound of buttons flinging across the room as you gasped.
“My shirt-“ you squealed as you felt his hands dive towards your chest, pulling your bra down to pool at your stomach before his hungry mouth was on his chest, licking and sucking and biting at whatever he would as you moaned. You held the back of his neck, rubbing gently as he took a nipple into his mouth, tugging on it gently with his mouth before pulling away to do the same to the other.
He looked up at you, gaze almost starving as he smashed his mouth against yours, your tongues fighting rapidly against each other as you tasted the residue of his alcohol, longing for more. You felt his hands grope at your waist, tugging down your skirt as you quickly stood up, lips still connected as you pulled it off, along with your stockings and panties. You kicked off your heels as he laid you against the table before pulling away from your lips.
You brought your knees up, spreading your legs slightly as he growled at your exposure, two fingers reaching down to dive into your dripping slit, gathering your slick in between before pulling them apart, the evident string making him let out a dry laugh.
“All that for me, love?” He groaned, fingers rubbing at your pulsing clit as he took in your wetness.
“Y-yes sir,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed at how much of a hold he had over you, over your cunt.
“Dirty girl, hm? All desperate for your Captain?”
You whined at the degrading words whilst you nodded, “Just you, Sir.”
He seemed pleased with your answer, his touch almost possessive as you felt two fingers at your entrance before they graced the tight hole, sliding inside with ease as a mortifying squelch filled the room.
His fingers reached places that you didn’t even notice existed as you whined, hips bucking before he lifted your thighs over his shoulder before bending down to lick a fat stripe up your wet heat. You gasped at the sensation, hand jolting down to rest on his scalp as he began to lick and suck at your sweetness, practically growling into it as he lapped at whatever he could.
You felt like you were in heaven. His beard scratched along the plush on your thighs as he worked his two digits against your sweet spot, his lips and tongue sucking at your folds and swollen clit.
“Oh fuck, Sir, please I’m gonna cum,” you whined as he quickened his pace, a tight coil forming in your stomach as your breathing became heavy. You let out a pathetic whine as your head fell back, his spare hand holding your waist as he continued his fevered movements, the coil in your stomach snapping as you moaned his name followed by a string of expletives.
“Tastes so fucking sweet, so good for me,” he growled as he watched you twitch, overstimulated by his actions before he pulled away, reaching up to grapple you with another bruising kiss. You felt the wetness of his beard and it made you even hornier as he kissed you with such need.
His hands gripped your hips, the force most likely going to form subtle bruises as he dragged you closer to him. You broke away from the kiss, your forehead leaning against his as you looked down at this cock, wrapping a hand around it, thumb darting over the precum as he hissed before watching you drag it over your tongue, a pleased hum leaving your lips.
“Dirty fucking girl, so pathetic for her superior, huh?”
His words were like poison, you lived off of it. You had no idea how you would be able to work around him after this. He didn’t take well to the silence, a spank landing against your pussy as you gasped, body jolting slightly.
“Speak when you’re spoken to,” he commanded, his hand reaching up to grip your cheeks before he asked you to open, your mouth immediately obliging as he leaned down, a wad of his spit landing perfectly on your tongue as you swallowed. He hummed at it, his own hand reaching down to grab his cock, slapping it against your puffed clit a few times causing you to squirm at the delicious sensation.
“P-Please sir, I need you.” Your tone was desperate, soft tears filling your eyes as he rubbed the head of his cock up and down your wet folds.
He tsked. “Just a needy slut for me, hm?”
You nodded, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt his thick head prod at your entrance, your hand immediately pushed against his chest at the burning intrusion before he grabbed it.
“Relax for me, love, you can take it.”
You let out a shallow breath as he laced your fingers together, your pussy fluttering as he pushed it deeper and deeper. He was massive, the burn absolutely ramming through you as you waited for him to bottom out.
“That’s it baby, I’ve got you. Taking me so fucking well.” His words encouraged you as you wrapped a leg around his waist, welcoming him before you pressed your lips against his, dragging him towards you using your leg as an emphasis to hurry up.
He laughed against your lips as a hand wrapped around your jaw, pulling away to pepper kisses along your neck before he thrusted slightly, the entirety of him now inside you as you practically yelped at how full you felt.
“Tight fucking thing, gripping me like crazy,” he gruffed, spare hand reaching down to thumb at your clit before he pulled out most of the way before slamming back in.
You felt all the air leave your lungs as you moaned, your sounds high pitched as he began to slam his hips against yours, thumb circling your clit as you could feel him practically kiss your cervix.
“Holy fuck,” you choked out as you wrapped your arms around his neck, nestling your face into the crevice as you bit down lightly to conceal your pathetic sounds.
He was a grunting mess as he praised you, coaxing you to cum around his cock as you felt him practically in your throat.
You were babbling at this point, your words slurring at how much pleasure you were in as he continued to pound into you at a brutal pace, other hand roughly groping at your right breast, tugging the sensitive nipple as your eyes rolled back.
“Take that fucking dick,” he growled out at you as he continued his abuse against your clit, his other hand now reaching up to grab your neck as he pulled you away from hiding, leading you into another kiss as his hips mashed against yours.
You could barely kiss him back, the pleasure blinding you as your eyebrows scrunched together, delicious expression written on your face as it egged him on to fuck you harder.
“Holy - fuck,” you whined as you felt your second orgasm building up. The coil seemed never ending, his rough thrusts sending you into a spiral before you screamed out, pussy clenching desperately around his cock as it attempted to milk him, his hand jolting tighter around your neck as his rhythms got more sloppy, a loud grunt leaving his mouth.
“Gonna make me cum soon, sweet’art,” he grumbled against your lips as he continued his bruising pace, your pussy moulding to the shape of his cock.
“Inside me.. please, please, Sir,” you whined desperately and somehow, he began to fuck you even harder, almost like he wanted to cum quicker just to fill you up with it.
His hands reached down to your hips, pace deadly as slaps and grunts filled the room and you knew you would feel his grip for days. He let out a staggered breath, his thrusts getting sloppy before he let out a groan.
You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, hot spurts of cum emptying into your womb as you whimpered, his head falling into your neck as his seed pumped into you.
He kept his cock inside you for a little after he finished emptying everything he could give you, soft pants filling the room, your bodies practically merged into one as sweats clung to every fibre you had.
You fell flush against the table as he pulled out, his cum pooling at your entrance as it began to leak out, his possessive fingers rushing to push it back in as his fingers swirled against your slit before pinching lightly at your abused clit.
“You okay?” He asked, gaze softening as he took in your fucked out expression. Your throat was dry, a croak of an “I’m okay” slipping out as he laughed, rubbing a gentle hand against your waist.
“Proud of you,” he cooed, his softening cock still out as he grabbed some water for you in his miniature fridge which you took gratefully.
“Guess you proved you could take anything I give you.”
Laying down on your bed reading a book before your nightly pump when he comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel.
You pretend not to notice the cheeky tent he sports as he walks to his side of the bed and flops down next to you.
Your chest is leaky and uncomfortable, so you reach over to the night stand for the cordless pumps you can put in your maternity bra.
He looks like an oversized man baby with the way those big brown eyes stare up at you through thick lashes, almost like he's waiting for you to ask him for help.
As you lean back against the headboard, Simon wordlessly lays down on his side, head cradled in your hands while he helps you bare your chest to him.
He gives your skin chaste kisses and slow, sloppy licks. You feel the shivers like little lightning strikes to your core, and he closes his mouth around a puffy bud and sucks.
You hiss through your teeth, pain and relief and arousal coursing through your veins in an overwhelming cluster of feelings. Your arm cradles the back of his head to keep him there (as if he'd ever move) and your other hand cups his face, stroking up and down a strong, scarred cheek.
You can hear his quiet suckling and occasional swallow, your milk putting him into almost a trance like state. His hips giving aborted thrusts into the air, an (pathetic really) attempt to relieve the pressure from his groin.
The hand stroking his pretty face wanders down his neck and chest, slowly petting back and forth, lower and lower, until you're able to grip his length and give it a gentle squeeze before moving your hand in time with the thrust of his hips.
Simon starts to make noises, muffled slightly into the swell of your breast. As your hand speeds up, his abs flex and his thighs tremble, like he's finding it hard to remain still for you (he thinks he'd die if you stopped).
It's not long before his hips still from fucking into your fist, thick creamy seed spilling from his cock and down your hand/onto his abdomen.
He pulls away from you for a mere minute to flip you on your back and lick your soiled hand clean (the dirty bastard).
Now it's time for the other side as his cock gives a needy twitch between you.
Summary: You face down a nightmare as your life starts to move forward.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 9,371 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, unsafe bondage practices (don't do this), restraints, creampies, overstimulation, squirting, angst, flashbacks, panic attack, PTSD, angst, emotions, language
A/N: Sorry this one took so long but it kicked my ass. Also sorry for the emotional roller coaster...
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It’s cold, the wind strong enough to whip sand at your legs. You don’t care, treading through the soft white sand towards the darker, firmer wet sand. Your hands are shoved in your pockets in an attempt to keep them warm, and the closer you get to the water, the more you can feel it in the air, whipping around you.
“Don’t go too far.” A voice carries on the wind, John treading behind you in the sand.
“Yes, dad.” You roll your eyes, ignoring him to walk along the water’s edge. The beach is empty, as would be expected on such a day. Even though spring is on the horizon, it’s still not nice enough weather for the tourists.
Even today was a lucky break from the rain that fell for two days straight leaving muddy puddles everywhere.
They only let you come down here because you know you’re leaving soon. The time has come, the inevitable return must happen now. There’s nothing keeping you here, and life has to move forward. As much as you’d prefer to stay here, the last thing you need is for your pack to get hit with AWOL or even desertion charges. Kate can only keep things this way for so long, and now that the threat is gone, the excuses are wearing thin. They’re still part of the military, they still have their duties.
John has to go back while he waits for his retirement to be processed. He has things he has to do to make that possible, things he has to close, things he has to pass on to Simon. Kyle has to wait until his gets filed and approved. And you have to go back with them until it’s over.
You’re not happy.
You won’t be happy until you can put that place behind you for good.
Arms wrap around you and you swing blindly, jumping with a yelp.
“Bloody hell, stop.”
You’re breathing heavily, heart thudding in your chest. You hadn’t even heard Simon approaching, too lost in your head again.
“Scared the shit out of me.” You breathe.
“Shouldn’t be so lost in your head.” He says. “You think we’d let some random person approach you?”
You shake your head. “No.”
He’s silent for a moment. “Nice job, though. Swing first, ask questions later. Need to work on your swing again, though.” He says, keeping his arms around you. “Barely felt it.”
“Rude.” You pout, turning your gaze back to the sea.
“We’re heading back now. ‘S too cold out here. You’ll get sick.”
You don’t want to go. You’d stand out here all day if you could, watch the tide come and go. You know they wouldn’t let you. Too many risks.
“But I don’t want to.” You deepen your pout, blinking up at him with the best puppy-eyes you can give.
“But you have to.” He says, unwavered by your cuteness.
“No.” You say, crossing your arms and turning away from him.
“Yes.” He says, adjusting his hold on you.
You’re flying for a moment before you end up draped over his shoulder. “Hey!” You yell, trying to kick his stomach. “That’s not fair.”
“Should have listened.” He says, carrying you back through the sand.
You tilt your head up, staring back at the sea while it slowly gets further and further away. It might be your last chance to see it up close for a long time.
“Help me,” You plead as you pass by Johnny.
The Scot only shrugs. “Sorry, cannae help ye, kitten.”
You let out a frustrated groan but go limp on Simon’s shoulder, knowing there’s no changing their minds. You’re not sure you could even get them to convince Simon to let you down. You’re going to be carried back to the car whether you like it or not.
Some deep part of you enjoys it.
You’re self soothing.
That’s what you tell yourself as you mix the batter in the bowl. You’re waiting for the moment when John tells you to start packing, that you’re leaving this safe haven to return to the brutal world you left months ago that you hoped maybe by some small mercy you might be able to avoid going back to. How silly that thought was, though. Of course you’d wind up back there no matter what, even with John retiring.
You jump when hands close around your waist, squeezing gently as a body presses up against your back.
“That bowl insult you or somethin’?” Johnny breathes into your ear, lips brushing the skin. “Been staring at it like it placed a curse on ye.”
You shake your head, going back to mixing the batter. “No. Just got lost in thought.”
Johnny hums, pressing kisses to the skin behind your ear. “Anythin’ important?”
You could tell him the truth, but it will ruin the moment. He’s in a playful mood and the last thing you want is to bring him down. “No.” You say, pushing him back so you can turn in his arms, the bowl of batter in your hands. “Just thinking about how tasty these brownies will be.”
He stares down into the chocolate mixture in the bowl before looking back at you. “Mama’s recipe?”
“Of course.” You say, trying to wiggle out of his hold but he doesn’t let go.
“Bless.” He almost moans, slipping a finger into the batter before sticking it into his mouth. He does moan as he tastes the batter, slowly pulling his finger from his mouth to savor it. “Delicious even raw.”
You make a face, pulling the bowl out of his reach before he can dip his finger in again. “No eating it all before it gets baked.”
“C’mon just another taste.” He whines, trying to reach around you as you shove your hip into his stomach to push him away.
“You can have one once their done.” You slip around him, stepping up to the stove to dump the batter into the pan.
“Please let me lick the bowl.” He says, saddling up against your back again.
You roll your eyes, smoothing the batter before turning back to him. “Here.” You reach into the bowl, gathering some of the leftover batter onto your finger before wiping it on his nose.
He goes crosseyed as he stares at it, taking a step back. “That’s not fair.”
“You wanted some.” You hum, putting the brownie pan into the oven before setting the bowl in the sink.
“What are you two getting up to?” Kyle asks, stepping into the kitchen.
“Getting harassed for brownie batter.” You say, filling up the bowl with water so he can’t steal anymore.
“’M not harassing her.” Johnny says, gathering some of the batter on his nose onto his finger.
Kyle raises a brow, staring at him. “Right.” He takes a step forward, crowding into Johnny’s space. “Here.” He grabs Johnny’s jaw, fingers dimpling into his cheeks as he holds him still. Kyle leans in, licking the rest of the batter off his nose.
Your lips fall open as you watch them, warmth starting to pool in your stomach as Kyle cleans the batter off Johnny’s face. “Fuck…” You breathe, watching as Kyle leans in, giving Johnny a soft kiss before releasing him.
“Think she liked tha’.” Johnny breathes, still staring at Kyle.
Kyle inhales deeply, his lips twisting up in a smirk. “Think she did.” He steps closer to Johnny, putting his hands on his waist. “Should put you on your knees right here you needy whore.”
Johnny lets out a deep groan, your face starting to get hot as you watch them.
“Look at you.” Kyle groans, his hand pressing against the front of Johnny’s pants. “Already so worked up.”
“’S not fair, I havenae gotten any yet.” Johnny whines, pushing his hips up against Kyle’s hand.
“You just have to be patient.” Kyle scolds him.
“Fuck being patient.” Johnny growls, turning on you.
He crowds you back into the counter, looming over you. You can smell the sweet chocolate on his breath as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. He hums, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before he kisses you hard, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
You moan into the kiss, his hands finding your hips to lift you onto the counter. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close as you can. You can feel his bulge pressed right up against the seam of your jeans from this angle, his hips starting to rock slowly against yours. He’s desperate for any friction he can get, whining needily into your mouth.
“Fuck…” Kyle groans, stepping up behind Johnny, pressing his chest against his back.
Johnny’s hands slide down your sides until they reach the waistband of your jeans. “Of all days tae wear jeans.” Johnny groans, fumbling with the button.
You bat his hands away, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down. He wastes no time, batting your hands away this time, sinking one of them into your pants. You moan against his lips as his fingers push against your folds, already slick with arousal. He nips at your bottom lip as Kyle’s hand flattens against the bulge in his pants, letting out a quiet moan as his hips press into the other man’s hand.
He wastes no time sinking two of his fingers into you, a moan slipping out at the stretch. His fingers press deep into you, your hips shifting to push against his hand.
“So fuckin’ tight.” Johnny groans, his own hips rocking against Kyle’s hand.
A moan leaves your lips as Johnny’s fingers curl inside of you, pushing up against that spot. Your hips jerk, sliding closer to the edge of the counter to give him more room. His fingers move inside of you, thrusting in and out as his palm pushes up against your clit. Pleasure is blooming in your abdomen, racing outwards to your fingers and toes as Johnny moans against your lips.
You could cum just like this, and you might have, had there not been an interruption.
“Can’t leave you three alone for five minutes.” Simon’s deep voice ruins the moment.
Kyle backs away from Johnny, adjusting his own pants. Johnny lets out a whine, fingers still stuffed inside of you.
“Right where we make food, too.” Simon sighs, tugging Johnny away from you. You let out a whine as his fingers are tugged from your pussy.
There’s a bulge in the front of Johnny’s jeans, clearly evident through the thick fabric. Simon lifts Johnny’s hand to his face, his fingers shiny with your arousal. He sucks the digits into his mouth, Johnny nearly crumpling to the floor.
Simon hums appreciatively, licking Johnny’s fingers clean before releasing his beta. He approaches you, looming over you as you sit on the counter. You stare up at him with innocent eyes, trying to read his face, but once again he’s an emotionless mask. His hands grip your hips, lifting you down off the counter.
“Don’t want the brownies to burn.” He murmurs, zipping and buttoning your jeans for you.
“They wouldn’t have burned.” You pout, staring up at him.
“You really think Johnny could have stopped himself at a quick fingering?” Simon tilts his head.
“No.” You say quickly. He’s been chomping at the bit for a chance to get at you these last couple days. You’re certain if Simon hadn’t interrupted you’d be bent over the counter with your jeans around your ankles.
“Finish the brownies first.” Simon says, leaning down to kiss you.
“Yes, sir.” You murmur against his lips.
A deep growl rumbles in his chest, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as his scent starts to thicken in the air.
“Little shit.”
It’s quiet in the cottage. John, Kyle, and Johnny are upstairs doing lord knows what, and Simon is on the couch across from you. Both of you are reading, happily sitting in silence aside from the occasional pop and crackle from the fire. It’s nice, this brief moment of quiet and stillness. The cottage has started to feel small and overwhelming, alive with energy all day. Not that it hasn’t been that way for a while, but perhaps it’s just your brain looking for a way to cope with the reality that you’ll be leaving soon. Looking for some negative to attach to this safe space.
Footsteps thud down the stairs, your eyes glancing up over your book to find Johnny hurrying into the living area. He beelines for you, pulling the book out of your hands.
“Hey!” You complain, reaching for it but he’s faster, tossing it on the coffee table before bending down.
Suddenly you’re in the air, Johnny’s arms wrapped around you as he hefts you over his broad shoulder. You cling to his shirt as he adjusts you, his hand patting your ass.
“Aren’t you going to help me?” You ask, staring at Simon as Johnny turns.
Simon simply smirks, watching Johnny as he heads for your room.
“Don’t break her!” Is all Simon says, giving you a little wave before he disappears around the door frame.
You land on your back on the bed, bouncing just a little as Johnny dumps you there. He flicks on the lamp after closing the door, before moving to stand in front of you. You lift yourself up onto your elbows, eyes trailing his body. He’s hard, the bulge evident as it pushes against his jeans. Your eyes trail further upward until you’re staring at his face, his eyes dark and hooded as they stare down at you.
“Finally.” He says, his hands dropping to your thighs. “I’ve been waitin’ for this.”
“I know.” You say, your stomach clenching in excitement. You’re going to be tired tomorrow but that’s alright. You’ve got nothing better to do besides sleep.
“Much as I don’t want to,” His hands squeeze your thighs. “I’m gonnae take my time.”
A shiver runs down your spine. It’s a promise. You know he’s telling the truth. Johnny doesn’t play when it comes to sex.
His hands trail up your legs until they’re teasing the bottom of your shorts. He plays with the fabric there for a moment before sliding his hands higher to your waist. Your toes curl in anticipation as he dips his fingers beneath the waistband. Goosebumps break out across your skin as his warm fingers slide higher under your shirt, trailing up over your ribs to your breasts.
He groans as his fingers brush the undersides of your breasts. “No bra?”
“No point in one,” you breathe, nipples hardening in anticipation.
He breathes out a curse, pushing your shirt up over your breasts. He doesn’t bother taking it all the way off, leaving it there bunched up around your neck. His hands cup your breasts gently, thumbs stroking the soft skin.
“Perfect fuckin’ tits.” He groans, squeezing them in his hands.
“Thank you.” You say breathlessly, arching your back to push them more into his hands.
He chuckles, his thumbs brushing over your nipple. A heavy breath leaves your mouth at the sensation against the sensitive bud. Johnny’s teeth sink into his bottom lip as he pinches your nipple, tugging on it lightly. There’s a burst of pleasure and a hint of pain that has your stomach clenching again. He tugs on it harder, a sound leaving your mouth at the intense sensation.
Johnny hums in response, leaning his body down over you. His fingers release your nipple, his tongue instead flicking over the bud. You gasp at the warm, wet sensation the cool air in the room cooling the dampness on your nipple, making it harden.
“There ye go.” Johnny says, his lips wrapping around the stiff bud to suckle at it.
His hand cups your other breast, his fingers tugging at your other nipple. The combined sensations has warmth pooling in your stomach, the pleasure from the stimulation coursing through your body. You never thought you could cum just from someone playing with your breasts before, but Johnny continues to try and make that a reality.
“Johnny,” You sigh, running your fingers through his short-cropped mohawk. “Feels good.”
He hums, continuing to suckle at your nipple, his fingers pinching and twisting the other. Your panties are quickly dampening, pleasure shooting from your nipples straight between your legs. His teeth scrape against your nipple, a gasp leaving your lips from the intense sensation. They’re starting to get sensitive, aching and burning but you can’t deny the pleasure still coursing through you from Johnny’s ministrations.
Quiet moans leave your lips as Johnny continues to tease your breasts, pleasure building deep in your stomach. Your legs lift, squeezing around Johnny’s waist as he leans over you. Your hips press upward, grinding against the front of his jeans to try and get more friction against your pulsing clit.
Despite the discomfort you can feel yourself starting to tiptoe towards the edge the more Johnny continues to play with your breasts. You can’t believe it, how good it feels, how quickly you’re approaching an orgasm just from Johnny’s mouth on your nipple.
He sucks hard, lifting his head to tug at your nipple with his mouth. You moan from the pleasure and the pain, his other hand tugging hard at your other nipple.
“Johnny,” You gasp, fingers curling in his hair as your pussy begins to pulse. “F-fuck…”
“C’mon.” He goads you, switching nipples to suck on the other.
Your legs start to tremble, squeezing hard around his hips as your own push up against his jeans. You’re grinding against him needily, pushing yourself closer and closer to the looming edge of pleasure.
His teeth sink into your nipple, biting lightly. Your entire body shudders, hand tugging hard at his hair as a half yelp, half moan leaves your lips. He sucks hard at your nipple, tugging hard on the other and you’re cumming, soaking your underwear.
Johnny suckles at your nipple for just a moment more, until you’re tugging at his hair, lifting his head from the over-sensitive nub. You’re breathing hard, chest rising and falling as your pussy flutters from your orgasm.
“Good girl.” He praises you, leaning up to kiss you before he’s sliding down your body, heading straight between your legs. He tugs your shorts down, tossing them somewhere behind him as he presses your legs up. “Look at that.”
He leans down, pressing his face against your panties. He takes a deep breath in, your lips parting in surprise as he buries himself quite literally in your pussy. You’re not quite sure how he’s breathing, but you can feel the warm exhales against your damp panties. He lets out a low groan, teeth tugging at the fabric for a moment before he sits back up straight.
He pushes your legs up farther, moving your hands to the backs of your thighs. “Hold those fer me.”
His thumb drags along the fabric of your panties, pressing hard until he reaches your clit. You sink your teeth into your lip as he pushes his thumb against it, making small, tight circles through the fabric. The friction against your clit has your pussy dampening again, nails biting into your skin from the sensation. He really wasn’t kidding about taking his time. You’ve never seen him quite so patient before. You thought he’d be quick and desperate just like he was when he ate you out on the table in front of your pack.
The thought of that moment has your sensitive nipples hardening, more slick starting to soak your panties. What you wouldn’t have given to let them all have a taste, one right after the other. You’d have let them do anything to you in that moment.
When you sat up and realized no one had their cock out, it had disappointed you a bit. Was Johnny eating you out not enough of a show?
Johnny continues to rub your clit through your panties, slow, methodical circles that drag the fabric against the sensitive bud. You’re moaning quietly, still holding your thighs apart for him. Your panties are fully damp now, his eyes glued to where the fabric has darkened.
He moves his hand from your clit, a disappointed sound leaving your lips. He grips your underwear, tugging upwards and stretching the fabric until it’s tight against your pussy. It’s pushing against your clit, your hips pressing upwards, seeking out friction.
“Fucking Christ.” Johnny moans, releasing your underwear only to grab the waistband and pull until the fabric snaps into pieces.
“Johnny!” You complain, releasing your thighs to push yourself up onto your elbows.
“I’ll buy ye a new pair.” Is all he says, his hands parting your thighs again, forcing you flat on your back once more.
His hands push your thighs apart until they can’t go any further, tense against the strain on your muscles and ligaments. He stares down at your pussy, spread open for him. He licks his lips, hands firm against the backs of your thighs as he lowers himself down, hot breath fanning against your slick folds.
He mumbles out a curse as he presses his face against your pussy, uninhibited by the fabric of your panties this time. He hums, his tongue darting out to press into you just slightly. You let out a quiet sound, lifting your head to stare at him.
He lets out a sigh before lifting his face, pressing his tongue into you as far as it can you. You whine at the sensation, legs pressing against his hands in an attempt to close them around his head. He’s stronger than you though, his hands keeping you spread open wide for him.
His tongue continues to dip into you, drinking your slick straight from the source. The sounds he’s making are obscene, slurping at your pussy like he’s parched. In a way he is, having been denied this opportunity for days, at least until he buried his face in your pussy on the table. Your toes curl at the memory, your hand dropping to grip his mohawk. He groans as you tug at the short strands, pressing your hips up against his face. You’re the one trying to drown him now, but it feels too good for you to care much about his own safety.
You doubt he cares either, not from the way he’s thrusting his tongue into you.
It’s not quite enough, though. You need more, your pulsing clit feeling neglected. You reach a hand down, fingers brushing over the sensitive bud in an attempt to finally ease some of the pressure, but his hand darts out, grabbing your wrist.
He tsks, squeezing your wrist in his hand. “Naughty little kitten. What am I gonnae do with you.”
He stares at you for a moment, letting out a contemplative hum before he’s standing, his hands falling to your waist to flip you over. He grabs your wrists in his hand, the other unbuckling his belt. Excitement and nerves flush through you as you feel the leather against your skin, Johnny tying your hands behind your back with his belt. He slips a finger under the leather to make sure it’s not too tight before he’s forcing you forward, your cheek pressed against the mattress as he hikes your ass up into the air.
“Maybe this’ll teach ye.” He says, patting your ass before he kneels down behind you.
He buries his face in your pussy once more, a muffled moan leaving your lips as he drags his tongue through your folds, finally reaching your clit. He wraps his lips around it, suckling it like he did your nipples. Pleasure courses through your body, your hands tugging at the belt instinctively.
He drags his tongue through your folds again before swirling his tongue around your clit. Your legs jerk, the neglected bud finally getting the attention she deserves. You’re soaked, dripping slick and coating his face in it, not that he really cares. He’s probably enjoying it. You can tell by the way he’s moaning into your pussy, eating it like a man starved.
Your legs are already shaking, knees trembling where they’re holding you up. Johnny’s hands are on your ass, keeping you spread open for his tongue. Pleasure is pooling in your stomach, your sensitive body quickly hurtling towards another orgasm.
Johnny sucks hard on your clit, his teeth scraping against the sensitive bud. You’re moaning into the mattress, hips pressing back against his face as your orgasm rapidly approaches you.
It slams into you like a truck, your legs nearly giving out as pleasure courses through you. Johnny’s hands hold you up, his tongue dipping into you as you cum on his face. He thrusts his tongue into you, lapping up every last drop as you gush around him, shaking and moaning in pleasure.
Johnny moans into you, his fingers dimpling your skin as he holds onto you, still lapping at your pussy.
You’re quickly approaching overstimulation, hips pushing back against Johnny’s face. “Johnny,” you gasp, trying to wiggle out of his hold.
He holds you there, his thumb dropping to rub tight circles around your clit. You whine, writhing against his hold as more pleasure burns from your clit straight through your veins. You can’t stop shaking, sweat beading on your skin as you’re pushed more and more towards another orgasm.
Johnny is moaning like a whore, still fucking you with his tongue as you cum again. His hands hold you up as your knees slip over the edge of the bed, your body unable to function after another orgasm.
He finally relents as you start begging for mercy, dragging his tongue through your folds one last time before he legs your body drop onto the bed on your stomach.
“Screamin’ Jesus.” He breathes, his hand resting on your ass. “’Bout did me in.”
His hips press against your ass, rutting just slightly. The drag of his jeans against your bare skin offers a delicious friction, not enough to hurt but just enough to leave your skin burning.
You turn your head, neck straining as you try to look at him out of the corner of your eye. “Gonna fuck me or just rut against me like a teenager?”
Johnny’s movements pause as he stands there for a moment, hands indenting the mattress by your hips. Those hands move to your waist, sliding down your skin as he pushes himself up to stand. His hands land on your ass, kneading the skin before he slaps one cheek. “Got a mouth on ye. I like it.”
You hear rustling and the zipper of his jeans sliding down as he takes a step back from you. There’s a soft thud as the fabric gets tossed to the floor along with his boxers. He steps back up to you, legs framing yours as he pushes you further up the bed until your clit rests against the edge of the mattress. You let out a quiet sound as his fingers drag up your folds, two of them dipping into you.
“So fuckin’ tight.” He groans, pressing those fingers as deep as he can. Your pussy is still fluttering from your orgasm, squeezing around his fingers.
He slowly begins to thrust them into you, pushing your clit against the comforter with every press of his hand. You whimper, the overstimulated bud pulsing from the pressure. It almost hurts, the overwhelming sensation of the stretch of Johnny’s fingers and the pressure against your clit.
Johnny pushes his fingers downward as he thrusts them into you, brushing up against that spot inside of you. You’re not sure how much more you can take, your legs already shaking from the sensitivity in your body. You’re going to cum again quickly, you know it. Your body has never felt so sensitive before, every inch of you alive with electricity. Your nipples are raw where they press into the comforter, your clit throbbing as its pushed against the edge of the mattress, your pussy clenching tight around the delicious stretch of Johnny’s fingers, the digits hitting every spot inside of you as they can.
Your head is reeling, mind foggy. Your shoulders ache but the pleasure is quickly blotting that pain out, hands pressing against the leather of the belt around your wrists as you get closer and closer to the edge. You can feel it, the building of the pressure, the warmth pooling between your thighs. You’re about to gush around Johnny’s fingers, hurtling straight towards a fourth orgasm and he hasn’t even stuck his dick inside of you yet.
Your back arches, pushing your head up as you cum, legs giving out again as another orgasm rocks through you. It’s almost painful, thighs squeezing around Johnny’s hand. His free hand rubs your back, trailing over the sweat-slick skin.
“Fuck,” he curses, pulling his fingers free from your pussy. You hear the slick sound of slapping skin for a moment before something wet hits the backs of your thighs.
You lay there for a moment, feeling the viscous fluid start to slide down your skin. “Did you just cum?” You ask, voice slightly muffled where your face is pressed into the mattress.
“Couldnae stand it anymore.” Johnny says, panting slightly.
Fuck, you think. He got so worked up just touching you he’s cum already.
What a whore.
Fabric touches the backs of your legs, Johnny wiping his cum off your skin with his boxers before tossing them to the floor again. The strain on your shoulders eases away as the leather gets pulled from your wrists. You let out a sigh, letting your arms flop to your sides.
“Easy,” Johnny mumbles, leaning over you to rub your shoulders. You can feel him, still hard and pressed against your ass. Of course he’s still hard. Johnny’s stamina is near legendary.
He massages your shoulders for a moment before his hands fall to your waist, gently easing you over. He takes your hands, pulling your arms up towards him to stretch them the opposite way. You sigh at the stretch, the joints popping after being forced in one direction for so long. He gently rubs your wrists, raw and sore from tugging on the leather.
He presses a kiss to each palm before letting your arms drop. He bends over you, hands pressing into the bed on either side of your head. He stares down at you for a long moment, and you stare right back into those bright blue eyes. “Ye ready fer more?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching up in a smirk.
Your pussy clenches at the prospect of what’s hiding behind that playful grin.
You nod, taking a deep breath in. Your legs are still shaking, but you think they’ll be permanently stuck that way after tonight.
Johnny pushes you up the bed before crawling onto the mattress. He grabs a pillow, slipping it under your hips to prop you up before he’s kneeling between your legs. His hands slide up your thighs, blunt nails scratching at the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Ready?” He asks, his hands sliding to your hips, his fingers wrapping around them.
You let out a breath before nodding.
“Use yer words.” He says, a shiver running down your spine.
So he’s playing dominant tonight.
“Yes, sir.” You say, your pussy clenching at the look that flashes through his eyes.
“Gonnae kill me.” He grunts, his hand releasing your hips to fist his cock.
He drags the head of his cock up along your folds, slick and wet still despite the numerous orgasms you’ve already had. You’re in for a lot more before tomorrow, you think.
Your head tilts back at the stretch as he pushes his cock into you, the thick head pushing through the slight resistance your overstimulated walls offer. You whine, hands clutching the sheets just from the feel of him stretching you open. He’s barely moved and you’re already pulsing, pussy squeezing around him as he pushes into you. He presses his hips forward, pushing more and more into you, your pussy gaping around his girthy cock.
“Fuck…” He groans, bending his body over you as he continues to push into you, fighting the slight resistance as he seeks to sink as deep as he can, until your hips are flush.
You’re panting, sweat still slicking your skin as he finally gets there, hips pressed tight against yours. He’s so deep inside of you, filling your pussy so perfectly. A perfect cock, you think. They’re all so perfect, but Johnny especially. How you’ve missed him and his ability to wield it.
You almost regret making him wait until last.
Johnny folds his body over you, shifting his position inside of you. You let out a moan as he lays himself against your chest, his lips pressing against yours. You kiss him, pressing your tongue into his mouth. You can still taste yourself a bit on his tongue, sweet and musky. He groans against your lips as you flutter around him, squeezing his cock.
“Fuckin’ love ye.” He grunts, kissing your lips sweetly.
“Love you too.” You breathe, tangling a hand in his mohawk and tugging. He lets out a groan, his hips shifting just slightly against you.
He presses one last kiss to your lips before pushing himself back up onto his knees. He looms there over you, his hands sliding down your sides until they reach your waist. He grips you tightly as he starts to rock his hips. You lay there, staring up at his face as he moves, slowly thrusting into you. You can feel him deep inside of you, his cock dragging against that spot with every thrust. You’re not going to last long, not with how sensitive you are. You don’t imagine he’ll last long either, not with the way he’s already twitching inside of you.
He keeps his pace steady, thrusts slow and even as he does as he promised, taking his time with you. He’s trying to savor every moment, almost like he thinks he’s not going to get this chance again. He certainly will. You know he’s most likely to pull you into his room and fuck the life out of you on a whim.
You think back to all those quickies before he had to go train, all those quickies before meals, those nights he’d pull you into his room in the barracks and bend you over his bed until your legs were shaking so bad you couldn’t leave if you wanted to. The amount of times he ate you out in the rec room, pants down around your ankles as he knelt on the floor.
Spontaneity is Johnny’s middle name.
Johnny starts to pick up speed, thrusting his hips faster against yours. His strokes are deep and even, cock pushing up against you over and over again. You’re already trembling, back slick with sweat and dampening the comforter under you. You can see the sweat beading on Johnny’s forehead as he continues to pick up the pace, the room hot and stinking of sex from your activities.
Neither of you last long, your legs shaking with an orgasm quickly, over-sensitive pussy fluttering around Johnny’s cock. He’s not far behind you, moaning as his body folds over yours as he spills into you. That doesn’t stop him, though, his hips still rocking into you as he fills you.
His hands press into the mattress by your shoulders, his hips grinding into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. You can already feel the burn of overstimulation approaching, the uncontrollable shaking and clenching of your limbs overtaking you.
“Johnny, Johnny,” You whimper his name like a prayer, his hips rhythmically snapping against yours. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t even falter as he continues to fuck you. “Please…” You whine, reaching up for him.
He bends his body down, letting your arms wrap around his neck as he continues to snap his hips against yours. “C’mon.” He groans, his teeth scraping your jaw. “One more.”
Another orgasm slams into you, your legs shaking and squeezing around his sides as your entire body writhes under him. He groans loudly in your ear, his hips finally stuttering before he cums again, filling you up until his cum is leaking out around his cock.
His hips still, his body resting against yours. He presses his face into your neck, your head tilting to give him more space. Both of you are slicked with sweat, breathing heavily. You lay there still for a moment, your body still trembling
“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ, kitten.” He breathes, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.
You giggle, squeezing your arms around him. “That good, huh?”
“And more.” He says, letting his weight pin you down for another moment before he pushes himself up to his knees again.
His cock slips out of you, his cum following as it drips onto the pillow under your hips. His fingers gather it before he’s pushing them inside you, pushing his cum back into your pussy.
He chuckles as your mouth drops open, his fingers pushing against your still fluttering walls. “What, thought ye were done?”
You gulp, staring up at that playful grin and those shining eyes. Of course you’re not done. You’re just getting started.
There’s a slickness between your thighs when you wake. You press your legs together but find resistance. Something vibrates through you, your body shuddering on instinct. It takes a moment, but your brain begins to wake up, becoming aware of your surroundings, and what’s happening to your body.
Your hand drifts down, sinking into the short-cropped mohawk. Your legs squeeze against Johnny’s head again, his mouth suckling at your clit lazily. “Johnny?” You breathe sleepily.
“Mornin’ kitten.” He murmurs against your pussy, wrapping his lips around your clit again.
You moan, tugging at his hair. How long has he been down there? A while, you think, judging by how wet you are already. Your pussy is sore after last night, but still pleasure blooms in your core. It’s nearly overstimulating, bordering on that painful edge that’s loomed since last night. Johnny has pushed your body beyond what you thought it could handle, making every inch of you sensitive to every little stimulation.
“Gonna cum,” you whine, stomach tensing in anticipation of the pleasure building inside of you.
“Cum fer me.” Johnny almost commands, biting down softly on your clit.
Your hips jerk at the near painful sensation, your legs squeezing so hard around Johnny’s head you’re almost worried you’re hurting him. He offers no complaint, though, sucking hard enough on your clit you almost see stars.
Your hips lift off the bed, pressing your pussy against his face as you cum. Your hands tug at the sheets, heels digging into his back. Johnny sinks his teeth into your inner thigh, grinding against the bed. You yelp as his teeth sink into the sensitive skin, your body jerking from the pinch of pain.
He soothes the spot with a kiss, trailing kisses down your thigh back to your pussy. He offers you no respite, no break longer than he’s already given you, his tongue immediately back to your clit. Your legs jerk as his tongue drags across the overly-sensitive bud, the sensation almost painful after so long.
“Johnny,” You whine, tugging at his hair but he doesn’t let up, starting to suckle at your clit again. “Please…” You whimper against the almost painful sensation.
Your head turns as the door opens, Simon’s big form looming in the doorway. His eyes narrow as he stares at your position, Johnny ignoring him as he continues to suck on your clit.
Simon steps forward, moving towards the bed. “Going to let the bird eat breakfast?” He asks, pausing at the edge of the mattress.
“When I’m done.” Johnny murmurs from between your thighs, sucking hard on your clit.
You yelp, legs shaking from the painful pleasure. Simon’s hand brushes yours away, taking its spot in Johnny’s hair, forcing his head up. Johnny’s eyes glaze over as he stares up at Simon, lips parted, face shiny with your slick.
“Ease up.” Simon says, forcing Johnny back onto his knees. Your legs drop from around his shoulders, falling limp on the bed. “’S time for breakfast.”
Johnny whines, tilting his head back to stare at Simon. “But she hasnae cum again.”
Simon glances down at you before pulling Johnny off the bed. He climbs up onto his knees, the mattress sinking beside you. You get no moment of relief before Simon is stuffing two of his fingers into you, the other hand pressing down on your belly. Johnny stands at the end of the bed, breathing out a curse as his hand drops to his cock.
Simon’s fingers are fast and rough as they thrust into you, curled upward to hit that spot over and over. You know where this is going as hot pleasure burns through you, your legs already shaking. You can’t even try to protest as your back arches off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets as your brain starts to go numb.
You let out a long, loud moan as white hot pleasure shoots through you, Simon’s fingers pistoning in and up inside of you. Your entire body shakes, hips lifting as you squirt all over Simon’s hand and the sheets.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Johnny groans, his own body shuddering.
Simon pulls his fingers out of you as you try to breathe, your head spinning. He pats your pussy before pushing off the bed. “There. She came.” He looks at Johnny and the mess he’s made on the sheets. “Clean yourself up then come out for breakfast.”
All you can do is lay there and try to breathe as you watch his back retreating out of the room.
You’re definitely not going to cry.
Well, not cry again.
You cried packing up the room, making the bed fresh like it had been when you first arrived. You cried double checking every inch of the room to ensure every trace of you was gone.
You didn’t cry loading up the two cars with boxes and suitcases. You didn’t cry standing out on the deck one last time to stare out at the sea. You wanted to go down to the beach one last time, but as usual, it was pouring rain and John said no. You’d get to see the beach again soon, he said. The weather will be clearer by then and warmer. Spring is approaching which means more rain.
You’ve come to hate the rain.
“Holding up back there?” Kyle’s voice cuts the quiet in the car.
It’s a four hour drive from the cottage back to Hereford. There would be no flying this time. You almost wish you were. It would have made this torture go by faster.
“Yep.” You say, head leaned against the glass as you watch the green hills pass by outside. You’re too warm, tucked in under a blanket, but you don’t have it in you to fight it off your body.
Your big bear is buckled in the middle seat next to you, and next to it a few bags and suitcases. The two cars were packed almost full of things you accumulated during your months at the cottage. Stuff bought to make it seem more like home. Home. The barracks. The place you wish you’d never have to see again. Now you’re going back to that cold, sterile world surrounded by alphas and betas you don’t know.
Tears are pooling in your eyes again.
“It’ll only be for a couple weeks.” John says, glancing at you through the rear-view mirror. “I’ve already filed the paperwork.”
Despite the warmth you huddle deeper under the blanket, looking away from the rolling green hills to lean against your big bear. You almost made it ride with Simon and Johnny in the car behind you, but instead you’re glad you stuffed it into the backseat with you.
Kyle turns on the radio, breaking the tense silence that’s settled over the car. You ignore it, closing your eyes. You won’t sleep, but at least you can pretend for a while that you’re not going back to the place you want to see least in this world.
You’re silently glad John somehow had your ID with him as you roll up to the gates of the base. It hasn’t changed at all in the months you’ve been away, still so unwelcoming and cheerless. You forgot how plain their world is, how boring and cold as John drives through the base back to the barracks. It feels like so long ago this had been your normal. You’d walked this base over and over, back and forth to the mess hall, the gym, the training areas. Nothing’s changed here, but everything has changed with you and your pack.
You don’t want to get out of the car as John pulls to a stop outside the familiar white building. It looks just like it did months ago, looming and plain. You sit there for a moment, still bundled under the blanket, leaning against your bear. You don’t want to get out. You want to run back to the cottage, back to the warm, small space that had been your home. It feels more like home than this place ever will.
Just a couple weeks.
That’s what John said. A couple weeks then you’d be leaving for good, never having to step foot on this base again. You, John, and Kyle would be leaving for Scotland to find a permanent home, one that actually felt like home.
Your door opens, John leaning down. “Come on. I know you don’t want to, but we have no choice.”
You have no choice.
You really don’t.
You sigh, undoing your seatbelt before finally pulling the blanket off. The cold air outside makes you shiver, your hands sinking into the sleeves of the oversized sweater you’re wearing. One of Simon’s, you think. You’ve stolen so many of their clothes over the last couple weeks it’s hard to tell what used to belong to who.
Nerves start to twist in your stomach as you move towards the door, propped open by a box as Simon and Johnny start to move your belongings back in. You don’t want to pass over that threshold, step back into the world you so desperately were trying to avoid going back to.
The doorway hangs open like the maw of some hideous beast, some monstrous being waiting to devour you. That mouth will close and swallow you whole down into some nightmarish realm.
There is no escape. It seems to taunt you, lashing out, playing to your greatest fears. Once you step over that threshold, there’s no going back. You’ll be stuck in there forever.
“Come on.” Kyle’s hand presses against your back to nudge you forward. The temptation to dig your heels in, throw a tantrum like a child is strong, but you won’t. There are others around you now, watching, assessing. You’re no longer safe to do as you want, the freedoms you had at the cottage have been rescinded and now you have to play their game again.
Despite your hesitance, despite your unwillingness you force your feet to move, dragging yourself closer and closer to the gaping maw waiting to swallow you. The soles of your shoes seem to sink into the asphalt, every step like wading through quicksand as you force yourself closer and closer to the place you want to be least in the world.
You’d take Texas over this.
You’re shaking as you take the final step, aware of Johnny behind you with a box in his hands, but you can’t make yourself move faster than you are. Just one step and you’ll be through the door, back into the world you left behind, and had hoped would be behind you for the rest of your life.
Foot meets tile and you’re inside. The lights are bright, burning your eyes as they adjust from the cloudy grey outside. It’s only noon but the world seems dark outside. Rain, you think. It’s going to rain.
Johnny nudges you forward gently, feet stumbling to the side as you move out of his way. You’re shaking, knees almost knocking together as you stand there in the barracks for the first time in months.
You’re not glad to be back.
The hallway seems to go on forever, stretching on and on like a hallway in a horror movie. If you ran down it, it might seem to stretch on forever. A five-and-a-half minute hallway.
“Hey,”
You jump as a hand lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps to the side, heart racing at the thought of some random solider entering the barracks, approaching you so openly while your pack is distracted. That’s a hypervigilance you’ll have to return to. They’re all threats, every one of them. You’re surrounded by unfriendly betas and alphas, ones who would jump at any chance to go after an unguarded omega.
They have before.
Kyle’s the one behind you, his hand on your shoulder. You only recognize him through scent, the soft smell of salty air and the gentle scent of beta fills your nose. Your eyes are blurry with tears you didn’t even realize were gathering there.
“I know it’s not ideal,” Kyle says, his hand heavy on your shoulder, trying to ground you in your panic. “But we have to. Let’s go, yeah?” He nods his head down the hallway.
You don’t want to. Spending the next few weeks in the car feels like a better compromise than having to be back inside here.
Instead you let him guide you forward, feet scuffing on the tile as you make your way down that clinically white hallway. It’s all so sterile and unwelcoming, unlike the soft warmth of the cottage. It’s nearly giving you whiplash, the change to the harsh cold of the barracks. There’s no changing it, no making it gentler, more easy to bear. This world is harsh and cold and they’re shifting back into it so easily.
You suppose they’re used to it. Their entire adult lives have been in this. You adjust to where you are because you have no choice. Even sleeping outside in the cold would be welcoming to them. Not ideal, but they’d do it.
You’re not like them.
Kyle squeezes your shoulder before stepping ahead of you, making his way to his door. It squeaks quietly as it opens and he disappears into the darkness, leaving you behind. The world starts to contort, your vision tunneling as you pause outside your own door.
It’s closed as best it can be. The door jam is splintered, the wood cracked from where it had been kicked in. There’s still a boot print imprinted into the wood. You remember the shoving against the door, the jiggling of the handle. It’s cold as you press your hand against it, pushing it open. It only opens a couple feet before it hits something. Your dresser. You’d pushed it against the door to try and buy as much time as you could.
Your hand shakes as you reach through, fingers fumbling until you find the light switch. The overhead light flickers on, shining ugly and yellow from above. You slip through the gap in the door, stepping into your old room.
It smells like dust, all hints of any scents being gone after months of being empty. The window is closed. Someone came in and closed it. Your desk is still in disarray, items knocked over and on the floor from your scramble to get out of the room.
There’s a band tied around your chest, squeezing and squeezing tighter and tighter. Your breaths come in ragged inhales and shaky exhales, faster and faster until your fingers are starting to go numb. You can’t look away from the window, your brain starting to go fuzzy. There’s a pit in your stomach, a violent twisting and dropping sensation. It makes you sick, nausea starting to crawl up your esophagus.
Blood pounds in your ears, no...something is slamming against the door. Panic seizes you, freezing your body in place, stiffening your muscles.
You need to get out. You need to go.
Someone is coming.
You scream as arms wrap around you, tugging you out of the room. You’re flailing, panicking, fists swinging blindly.
“Stop.” A firm voice commands, hands closing around your wrists, tugging you closer. “Stop.”
You’re pushed up against a chest, firm and solid against you. A strong scent floods your nose. Leather, something soft and fresh.
“Breathe.” A voice cuts through the blood pounding in your ears.
You can’t. Every inhale and exhale hurts, your hands curling into fists from the adrenaline coursing through you.
“Come on.” Something wraps around you, squeezing you tightly.
You’re crying. The tears are falling, burning paths down your face as you’re pinned against the solid warmth in front of you. Your lips are shaking, snot sliding down your lip as you cry.
There’s a steady pounding against your ear, thumping evenly. Your mind focuses on that, listening to the rhythmic thump, thump against the side of your face. It clings to that rhythm, your breaths starting to slow. Your hands curl into the t-shirt pressed against your face, the soft fabric wet from your tears.
That steady thumping continues to beat against your ear as the world begins to take shape around you again. You’re pressed up tight against something solid, your body trembling against it. Your fingers are numb, trembling as they grip the fabric of a t-shirt tightly. Your whole body aches, muscles tense, joints locked in place. Your own heart is pounding hard, racing so fast it’s almost painful.
The scent of leather and eucalyptus seeps into your nose, the steady scent of alpha mingling with something else in the air. It’s clouding your brain, soothing its way through your synapses down into the very atoms of your being. It’s easing away that fear, the cloudy haze that’s settled over your mind as you lose yourself to panic.
You’ve had a panic attack, a flashback. Your room hasn’t changed since that day, but why would it? No one has been back to the barracks since that day. Of course it would still look the way you left it months ago. That day you escaped out the window in fear for your life.
No one thought about that.
There’s a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you against a solid chest. The steady thumping against your ear is a heartbeat, strong and slow, calm. It’s comforting, easing you back into your mind and your body and the present.
It’s Simon you’re being held against. Simon pulled you out of the room in the midst of your panic. He’s holding you tightly, arms nearly painful around you as he keeps you pinned to his chest, trying to pull you out of your panic attack and back into reality. You don’t want to get back into reality, into the situation you know you’re in. You want to float away, stay ignorant of everything for the next few weeks. What you wouldn’t give to be sedated right now.
But you can’t. You have to exist in this world again, this world that put you in danger, threatened your life, nearly killed you.
You shift in Simon’s arms, wrapping them around his waist, clinging to him. He keeps his arms tight around you, trying to ground you, trying to keep you calm and make you feel safe. You wish it would work. You wish he could keep you there, safe and secure in his arms for the next few weeks while you’re stuck here. He won’t let anything happen to you, none of them will, but it’s not enough. Their promise, their word isn’t enough, not while you’re stuck in this nightmare.
There’s nothing anyone could do to make these next few weeks any easier.
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Gaz x female!reader, breast kink, lactation kink, nipple play, nursing, milking
Gaz loves your tits. He's always groping them, pinching your nipples, using them like stress toys. When you're fucking he's got a hand on them, or his mouth, sucking your nipples until they're sore. You think it's just a honeymoon period, he'll back off as he gets used to having you around, but instead he gets worse.
Sitting down with a movie and he's got your shirt shoved up and playing with your nipples, ignoring your half-hearted whining, and then spends another hour in bed with his fingers and cock in your pussy as he sucks on them until you come, shoving at his head to try and get him to release you.
Waking you up to his hands oh so gently rubbing and squeezing your breasts, his cock already hard inside you, tracing the tips of his fingers across your nipples so softly you can barely feel it, driving you insane until you beg him to just fuck you already- and then groping your tits so hard the flesh bulges around his fingers, twisting your nipples until you shriek, his cock driving into you like a machine as you fall apart.
You put on a little lingerie as a surprise and find that the lacy cups scratch your tender nipples too much, you're too sensitive, but Gaz pins your wrists above your head and sucks them through the lace as you sob, tears leaking from your eyes as your pussy drools around his fingers, the lace panties rubbing tight where he's shoved them aside, and when you come he shoves the cups down and fucks his cock between your breasts, striping the red, sore skin with his come.
The first time he sucks on them and you feel a strange, pinching sensation you brush it off- of course you feel weird, Gaz has worked your nipples over so much they're perpetually hard and swollen, thick nubs standing out all the time, your breasts heavy and hot from the way he squeezes and slaps and pinches.
The second time it's harder to ignore, and you squirm where Gaz has you on his lap, suckling as you ride his cock. He hums when you mention it, and sucks harder, bucking his hips up sharply so you forget about it in the rush of coming.
The third time it's coming up in you from deep in your breasts, but you're distracted, Gaz fucking you so slow and deep, playing with your clit as you come over and over. He's sucking on your nipples again, his other hand pinching and tugging, and you cry out as everything reaches a fever pitch, cunt drooling and clit hard, your poor nipples so sensitive under his strong fingers and hot tongue, your breasts ache like they're coming too- and oh, they are, as your cunt squeezes and throbs you feel a little liquid drip from your nipples, wetting Gaz's fingers and drawn into his mouth.
He stops as you shudder under him, staring at your tits, and tugs one nipple like he's- oh fuck, like he's milking you, and you moan as a creamy pale droplet forms and he licks it away.
He's relentless even more now, and you can't won't stop him as he suckles your breasts, drawing more milk up day after day until he's swallowing it, wet little gulps to match the slick dripping from your pussy. Your breasts ache all the time, growing bigger and heavier, and the first time he's gone on a mission for more than a few days he returns to you crying as you try to squeeze enough milk from your breasts to relieve the pain. Your tits are overfull, skin stretched, and Gaz barely gets his mouth on your nipple before you're moaning in relief, milk filling his mouth.
He tears your pants off and gets his cock in you before he switches to the other, playing with the now softened breast. You're so wet he can just slide in, and fucks you in sharp thrusts as he sucks the other nipple to the same rhythm, draining your poor aching tit until you're coming around him, whole body lax and loose, blissed out on pleasure and physical relief.
He kisses you with a mouth sweet and damp with your milk, and you suck it off his tongue eagerly, already looking forward to the next day when you're filled back up and ready for him again.
“Wait,” Price narrowed his eyes at you, “why not? Is everything alright?”
You hated to break the news to him. Ever since you’d had to be off your birth control, your periods had returned with a vengeance. You’d always had rough monthlies, but it almost seemed like your body was getting its revenge. The elevator scene from The Shining came to mind as you considered confessing why you’d been dodging Price’s advances.
Your ex had been so disgusted with you when it was “that week,” that you’d been conditioned to think you had to hide it. Unfortunately for you, that week was also when you were the most sensitive, craving a delicious pounding to relieve the cramps and satisfy your sexual cravings.
You didn’t think John would be so cruel, but even just imagining a negative reaction from him truly upset you, so you’d evaded his attempts to fondle you for three whole days. He’d dip a finger into the side of your panties, and you’d scoot away, playing dumb. You’d given him so many blowjobs this week that he started to get suspicious. Now, he was asking you flat out why you were denying him his favorite midnight snack: your pussy.
“We just…can’t,” you shrugged, hoping he would drop it.
Fat chance. His brow furrowed, growing concerned,
“Love, did I do something wrong? I thought you were enjoying the back rub. Did I hurt you?”
He was so large that, when he pouted, it looked like you were comforting an disgruntled wildebeest in your bedroom. His big, sad eyes and his frowning, bearded face broke your damn heart. You bit the bullet, realizing you couldn’t go one more minute with him thinking this was somehow his fault,
“It’s that week.”
“What week, love? Did I miss an anniversary? I know I’ve been away last week. Maybe I accidentally had the wrong calendar…” he was frantically flipping through his smart watch, confused and distressed.
“John,” you grabbed his forearm, shaking your head, “my time of the month, you know?”
You could see the realization wash over him, softening his features before returning immediately to confusion,
“And?”
“What do you mean by that?” You didn’t understand what he was asking.
“So, the painters are in. What about it?” He looked so lost. You decided to be very upfront, the clarity burning in your throat,
“You don’t care that I’m bleeding?”
Still, no reaction. He shrugged, shaking his head,
“Why would I? I mean, if you don’t feel up to it, I’m happy to fetch the hot water bottle and neapolitan out of the fridge,” he grabbed you around your shoulders, “but a bit of blood isn’t going to scare me off, love. In fact, I bet you’re wet and ready for me right now. Hot.”
He kissed your neck, sucking into your skin, licking your throat, and pulling at the flimsy straps of your tank top. He exposed your breasts, and with how high your hormones were, they felt swollen and hypersensitive. As he rubbed them, kissing your nipples and laving his tongue over them, you moaned from the strong tingles he created in your nerves.
“Are you sure?” You panted, still nervous about his perception.
“Mm,” he tugged a nipple into his mouth before looking up at you, darkness shrouding his gaze, “very sure. Lay down. I’ll grab a towel.”
He yanked your top off, throwing your clothes on the floor and dipped into the bathroom to grab a towel. He came back with a big beach towel that he’d had for years. Big palm trees swayed against a perfect blue background. You hoped you wouldn’t ruin it.
Price signaled for you to raise your hips, and he put the cloth underneath you, protecting the bed. Roughly, he stripped you of your bottoms, making you naked when he was still fully clothed. Then, to your horror, he assumed his usual position with his head between his legs, licking his chops like a hungry wolf.
“John!”
Mid-lick, he looked up at you, frozen in place,
“What?”
You didn’t have a chance to say anything. Keeping his eyes on you, he continued toward his destination, licking and sucking on your folds, ignoring your worried throat noises.
“You can’t! It’s…it’s gross, right?”
He mumbled, his mouth full of pussy between phrases,
“No, sweet girl, mmph, ‘s good. Gets my blood up. Cock’s gonna be achin’ in a moment.”
You tried to relax, even getting close to coming since you were so sensitive, but as he licked you, your shame became too much. You thought he was just appeasing you,
“John, please. You don’t have to pretend…”
He was on you in a flash. His hand slipped around your neck, crushing your jawbone, forcing you to look at him in the face, snarling at you like a hound,
“Are you really trying to keep this pussy from me? I don’t care if you bleed every day for the rest of your goddamn life. This is my cunt, and I’m starving for it. You know your safe word. Use it!”
His sudden aggression stunned you. Price waited, patiently, knowing you needed time to think. He was already covered in red smears, his mouth and beard caked in your blood and sparkling with your slick.
You looked up at him, eyes worried and full of past pains,
“Are you sure?”
The captain smiled maliciously,
“Does this feel sure to you?”
Your heart almost stopped when you felt him slap his cock on your thigh, letting you feel the heaviness of his impossibly hard erection. Your face must have worn your shock all over it because he chuckled darkly, obviously feeling vindicated.
“That’s what I thought, love. Now, can I get back to my mission, or do you need to stop?”
You stared at him for a while, searching for any deception. Finding none, you shook your head, giving him free reign to proceed as he saw fit.
Price was such a grizzly when he needed to be, roaring to stand his ground, but you knew that, with just one word from you, he’d release you, forfeiting his claim at your whim. You couldn’t believe that he wasn’t repulsed. If anything, he was turned on.
He ate you like a man possessed, sucking at you and covering his cheeks and lips and nose in red, sticky blood, not giving a shit about the mess. Your thighs were covered. You could feel every bit of effort he put into making you come, and he seemed to be celebrating each and every moment you moaned or jolted your hips up towards his waiting mouth.
Then, he reached his hand up toward your hole, sinking two of his fingers into you as deep as they would go, massaging your walls in slow circles as he pushed inside. You groaned in a deep, guttural voice, feeling like your whole body was quivering for his touch. Watching as he pulled his hand out to thrust into you again, you saw the dark burgundy fluid that had fallen from your womb.
Price paid it no mind. He was too busy humping his cock into his other hand to care, readying himself for your shared pleasure. He began fucking you on his hand in earnest, his knuckles hitting that space between, sending shocks of pleasure through your body, the wet, milking sounds echoing in the room with both of your ragged moans.
“Oh, fuck, love,” he grunted, “you’re damn well flooded.”
He licked his lips, smearing your blood with his tongue. Then, he bent to suck your clit again, groaning as he did, making it vibrate with his low voice. Even when he made you come from his lurid efforts, he didn’t let up. If anything, it made him wilder to see your redness staining his hand.
Finally, he pulled away from you, and he used his dripping hand to stain his cockhead, lubing himself up for his entry. There was little resistance to him as he pushed forward into you. That was very abnormal for your coupling. He was heavy and thick, and it usually took quite a bit of grinding to reach your warm middle. Not tonight.
Tonight, his head sank all the way to your womb, pressing against the soft, sensitive flesh like a wet kiss, and he was beside himself,
“Fuuuuuckin’ hell…” he growled, “That’s good. So. Damn. Wet.”
Each word was a struggle, punctuated by his rough thrusts. As he fucked you, you felt your blood and come coating the skin between you, making a mess of your thighs and ass cheeks, dripping down onto the towel and onto his balls and legs. His face was still covered in blood, as were his hands. He was rubbing his hand on his chest, enjoying the slippery feeling over his nipple, taking turns rubbing your breasts as well. Your skin had red streaks all over it, painted like a Pollock.
He didn’t last long, and just when he was ready to come, he pulled his cock out to explode all over your belly, rubbing his dick on you and smearing your fluids across your skin.
The aftermath looked like a war zone. He didn’t help you to the shower until he had repeated his sanguine worship twice again, each time more feral, almost animalistic. It was as if it made him hungrier, watching your blood dry sticky and dark on your body. When you finally walked to the bathroom with him, he made you stand with him in front of the mirror, dipping his finger into you like an ink well, painting more lines and shapes across his ruined face and body, eating it, marking himself with your blood.
mutual pining, friends to lovers, az is in heat, tiniest bitta gore, mating bond, heavy on the creampie, FITA, breeding kink, & cum play
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:
Trouble finds you when your Illyrian friends are away, and just as you’re about to meet your fate, the shadowsinger comes to save you. But now you have an entirely new issue at hand— he’s near-feral and in the peak of his heat, and you’ve both reached your breaking point.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:
I don’t… have any words to explain myself. Do Illyrians have a mating season? Not that we know of. Does Az have a breeding kink? SJM hasn’t explicitly said anything, but… I’d like to imagine so, yes. At least, in this fic, I sure know he does ;)
‘...Warm liquid splattered across the side of your face.
A sickening thud sounded before you and a gust of air and dirt washed over your trembling form. You held your breath, your arms still up in defense.
Another second passed before you slowly chanced a look… only to find a tall, winged figure looming over you, deathly silent. You could see the violent glint in his eyes even from your position on the ground, the sapphire of his siphons shimmering in the moonlight. They only reflected the light from the sky, not from the use of his power— no, he hadn’t needed to tap into that imposing, law-defying reserve— not in order to rip the ulf’s head clean off its shoulders; his brute strength had been enough for that…’
– - – - – - – - –
Four long days had passed since the Illyrians had left for the harsh mountains of their native lands, and in their absence, a quiet unease had settled into the House of Wind.
Family dinners had initially been amusing— with Nyx thoroughly enjoying the undivided attention of all who stayed behind. But the house still felt too empty without the three males’ presence— perhaps one in particular, for you. Ultimately, you’d dismissed yourself to the quaint little cottage you kept at the edge of Velaris in attempt to escape the longing that lurked in your heart, and the void left by the absence of a certain hazel-eyed male.
The place was stationed on a hill atop a sleepy meadow, a stone wall curbing the property and the twinkling lights of the city on the horizon on one side, the other a breathtaking view of the sea. You liked to come here for reprieve every now and then— a haven from the bustling city and the busybodies that were your friends. It had been quite some time since you last visited; your friendship with the Night Court’s “Inner Circle” had grown stronger than ever lately, and as the newest addition to their little group as in-house healer, you found yourself rarely leaving the residences they often frequented.
The cottage was just as you’d left it, if not a bit overgrown; the grasses and various plants from your garden climbing over the trellises and fences, leaves spread wide and stems heavy with luscious crops. A little slice of peace; the perfect place for your solitude.
The only person you had ever brought here was Azriel.
You had been in the heart of the city with him, in search of presents for Starfall many months in advance. You’d told the Spymaster that you had to stop somewhere else before returning to the House of Wind. You insisted that you’d manage yourself, that he didn’t need to accompany you. But he was equally as firm in joining you on the errand– finally resorting to mention the thousands of stairs that you’d have to face if you split ways.
So, he came along with you to your humble home, quiet and observant as you guided him down the winding cobble path, through the garden, and inside the quaint walls. He had given few words of acknowledgement, but he did seem satisfied to gather another scrap of information about you, for you’d caught him examining the framed art and dried flowers that adorned the walls, even going so far as to peek into your ceramic cookie jar when he thought you were busy in the other room. That night you’d hidden your small smile as he tucked you into his chest and shot into the sky, content that he found your residence intriguing.
Azriel– the male that plagued your thoughts, the elusive shadowsinger. He who was content to observe instead of join the conversation, the one who was absent half of the time as his spymaster duties so often kept him busy. Always you noticed his presence when he had the time to entertain a social gathering, always you would meander over to his side to greet him. And always would he return the gesture, saying hello with a soft smile and kindness in his warm, hazel eyes. It was a look you cherished; one that sent butterflies fumbling in your stomach and warmth trickling into your cheeks. A look that you hoped was reserved just for you.
It was only natural you had grown feelings for him. How could you not? He was the kindest, most intelligent, and by far downright sexiest male you’d ever grown close to. Even his scent of cool cedar, of a needled forest just revitalized by heavy rain drove you wild, your crush in the male was irrefutable. And by Gods, when he stood next to you. He completely towered over you, those massive wings high and proud behind his strong back. Any interaction with him always reminded you that he was in exquisite shape, too… and that he would be perfectly capable of both protecting you and having his absolute way with you at any moment he so wished.
Unfortunately, such enamor for the male only made his current absence harder to withstand. Especially under such circumstances.
Your thoughts constantly wandered to him, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was with someone right now— how many he had already taken in just the short time he and his brothers had been away. All because it was Illyrian mating season; a rare event that occurred only once every three hundred years or so, when for one week, hormones would rage in all sexes of the warrior race and the camps would inevitably become— as Mor had so eloquently put it— an all-out fuckfest.
The very camps the trio had flown off to just days ago.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and pointed your attention back to the meager meal you were making. Your stomach was painfully empty, but the idea of eating was completely lackluster, even as you sliced the plump tomatoes you had gathered on your way in with careful precision. Hunger had evaded you recently, with the queasiness that took hold of you at the notion of your beloved’s cock balls-deep inside of another.
You knew you didn’t really have the right to feel such things… Azriel had never explicitly said or done anything to suggest he desired you, and you liked to think you kept your crush a secret which only you were privy to. But he was, after all, the spymaster of the court; a centuries-old being— it was certainly possible that he was indeed aware of your feelings and simply did not return them.
Nonetheless, you hoped that he felt some similar sentiment for you– there were times when it would be just the two of you that stayed up after everyone else retired for the night, full of smirks and jokes and undivided attention. Times when you would wear something tight and sleek, and you swore you could feel his eyes burning into your curves… only to find them elsewhere when you turned to face him. And all the times he would take you as his sparring partner during the training that he insisted you take under his instruction, when he would best you and hold you there for a moment, the tip of his blade or his fist just brushing you, hazel hues locked to your gaze.
But that was all conjecture. He hadn’t once done anything beyond that for you to think his rare lingering touches and stares truly meant anything. And then, there were always rumors that he had his fair share of lovers. But that wasn’t surprising— he was one of the most handsome males in Prythian, and a powerful, mysterious one at that. It was to be expected that various fae threw themselves at his feet, legs spread and ready for the taking.
Frustration hit the bottom of your barren stomach, and you sighed as you grabbed a knife from the wooden block on the counter. You made your way to the garden at the back of the cottage to collect some extra herbs. Surely some food could help your spirits lift from the gloom they’d settled into, so long as you were able to force yourself to chew and swallow. You tried your best to rid your thoughts of the shadowsinger as you pushed the door open and wandered into the yard.
A few sconces were lit around the perimeter of the home, a lonely lamp post flickering at the end of the stone path that wound through the garden. A cluster of spindly trees loomed further on in the distance, their murky shadows nearly blending with the otherwise dark night sky. You hadn’t realized it had gotten so late; stars shone through the clouds above, their light barely reaching the moist blades of grass that tickled your bare feet. You took a second to admire their blazing brilliance; even just a short distance from the city, their dazzling glow seemed brighter.
Finally finding the plant you had been searching for, you crouched down and rubbed your fingers on the leaves, its earthy scent releasing into the air. You took a deep breath of it, savoring the pleasant, spicy aroma… until your eyes opened wide and you froze, limbs going stiff.
That smell… it was of rotten flesh and matted fur. It was…
A twig snapped behind you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight. Fear shot down your throat to form a tight ball in your gut, your fingers tightly gripping the puny paring knife that would be your only weapon to defend yourself.
The ulf lunged forward at the same moment you whirled around, the tip of your knife now raised as you struck across where you hoped its throat would be.
But an emaciated, leathery arm was outstretched there, and it let out a terrible cry as you plunged the blade into the limb. Almost instantly it had struck you with its other hand, sending you flying into the cottage wall.
Your breath whooshed out of you as you collided with the rough stone bricks, your ears ringing as your skull smacked into the arm you threw up to take the brunt of the blow. Your vision shook as you sat there stunned, the doubled image of the furry beast before you merging into one just as it lept toward you.
You rolled forward, tucking out of range from the assault, narrowly missing its gnarled teeth, canines glinting in the starlight.
Just as you got your feet under you and you braced your legs to shoot up into a run, its wretched claws sank into your exposed ankle.
Your scream pierced the silence of the empty meadow, pain racing up your leg as the terrifying creature dragged you toward it, digging deep enough to scrape bone.
Tears flooded your vision but you forced them away, focusing all your strength into a kick across the creature's muzzle, and a second one straight to the neck. The impact summoned a garbled wheeze from the ulf, and it released you as it stumbled back in recoil.
You scooted back on the grass, shaking and one hand covering your fresh wound, the other reaching out blindly behind you in search of whatever you could use— something you could throw at it, stab it— anything. Your blood began to spill onto the dirt beneath you, a dark trail smearing the grass as you kept moving backward. With it was the fragile hope of defeating the beast, as though all the grueling hours of training were leaking out of you along with the scarlet.
Your wide, fear-filled eyes would not leave the terrifying beast, tracking its every movement. You took in its horrifying face, its filthy lip that curled back at you and those wicked eyes that locked onto you as it regained its bearings.
Your brain screamed into your subconscious, a desperate plea that would reach no one. Help! Please, oh Gods, help me!
There was nothing you could use to defend yourself— your tiny knife was still lodged in its flesh, and the only thing you’d managed to grab from behind you was an unripe carrot from the soil. The ulf seemed to realize it had you, for it sat back on its gnarled haunches and pounced for you.
This was it.
You closed your eyes, a whimper leaving you as you braced for impact, wishing for a quick and painless death.
A high-pitched whine. And a horrible ripping sound.
Warm liquid splattered across the side of your face.
A sickening thud sounded before you and a gust of air and dirt washed over your trembling form. You held your breath, your arms still up in defense.
Another second passed before you slowly chanced a look… only to find a tall, winged figure looming over you, deathly silent. You could see the violent glint in his eyes even from your position on the ground, the sapphire glow of his siphons shimmering in the moonlight. They only reflected the light from the sky, not from the use of his power— no, he hadn’t needed to tap into that imposing, law-defying reserve— not in order to rip the ulf’s head clean off its shoulders; his brute strength had been enough for that. The rest of the beast’s decapitated body was slumped on the soil just a foot away from you, black blood oozing into a pool that slowly crept outward.
You still hadn’t taken a breath as your gaze flicked back up the male before you— only to then realize he was shirtless. The ridges of his muscles stood out in contrast between shadows and starlight and he stared down at you, practically fuming where he stood, icy rage billowing down broad shoulders. His toned torso glittered with sweat, dark whorls of ink dancing across tan, firm skin. You wondered what he had been doing in order to glisten with exertion like so; he had killed the ulf with such ease that certainly the perspiration couldn’t have been from that.
The cool caress of shadows at your ankle managed to pull your attention, sparing a glance at the tendrils that fussed over the scarlet trickling through your digits. They wiggled beneath your fingers and you gasped as they turned colder, binding around your skin. A soothing calm seeped through the limb, and you finally dared to breathe again.
Azriel still had yet to say a word, observing as you slowly shifted to sit on your knees, unsheathing the kitchen knife from the ulf’s corpse. He seemed fine, almost– perhaps if you didn’t know him so well, he could’ve gotten away with such a judgment. But you could see how his hands were clenched into pale-knuckled fists, see that his breath was forced, coming out in clipped, ragged pants. The male was as stiff as a board, braced as though he was ready for flight or fight.
You’d never witnessed an Illyrian during their mating season– not many had. It was a sacred event that the race liked to keep to themselves, cooped up in their camps and locked away, not to be disturbed. Amren had told you of an elders’ tale that claimed that once, an army had tried to attack an Illyrian settlement during the season, thinking the warriors would be vulnerable… only to find that the winged race was tenfold more vicious and bloodthirsty, and had decimated the offenders with abhorrent devastation, leaving no survivors before returning to their ritual. It was said the race was only capable of two things during the season: fighting and fucking.
Now as you examined the male, you could imagine the fable holding some truth.
The shadowsinger was visibly pumped– even in the dark, you could tell that his muscles were bigger, making his already-impressive frame even more intimidating. Pure power and testosterone pulsed off of him, weighing down the air with cedar musk. The silhouette of his massive wings loomed behind his shoulders, making him appear even larger as you studied him from below. To any other, it would be a terrifying view to behold. But all you felt was security; absolute safety in his presence.
“Are you alright?” Azriel finally rumbled. His voice was deep, gravely as if he’d just woken up. Maybe it was another physical side effect of his current predicament.
You pushed yourself up from the ground and stood on fawn legs. “I think so..,” you said, taking a tentative step.
It took that full step for you to realize that the shadow tourniquet only numbed your pain— it did nothing to heal your wound. You whimpered and tumbled forward, mortification flooding your cheeks as soon as you began your descent.
But you never touched the grass.
In an instant, Azriel’s corded arms were wrapped around you, and you were pulled snug into his chest. You gasped at the same time he groaned, his skin a thousand degrees where it touched yours. Heat burst in your cheeks at the sound, your eyes going wide.
Not a second passed before you were off of him, his hands planted firmly at your arms’ side, thrusting you as far away from himself as possible. His head hung down toward the ground, silky locks falling into soft waves that shielded his face from you. You noted the way he panted, fingers like steel digging into your skin.
“Um… are you alright, Az?” you asked, observing the tremble that reverberated throughout his tense body.
Something akin to a growl tumbled out of him.
“I’m fine,” he replied, voice clipped and his eyes still fixed on the grass at his feet.
Maybe it was stupid to be toeing the line with him when he was in such a state… but you couldn’t help it. He had saved you from a nasty fate, he had come for you even when he was under such stress, when he was so far away. You weren’t quite sure how he knew you were in danger when he was so very far away in the Illyrian mountains— though you had an inkling. If maybe somehow… perhaps the two of you were…
You swallowed.
Reaching for him, your fingers stretched out before they met his stubbled jaw. The male stilled, unable to fight himself and pull away. His shaky exhale washed over your exposed collar, something stirring low in your stomach.
“I can’t be here,” Azriel said, his voice hard yet soft somehow. His eyes flickered toward your lips before he scrunched them closed, his form taut and coiled, like a snake ready to strike.
His statement made your heart deflate, your hand falling to your side. You crossed your arm over your middle, rubbing your forearm awkwardly. “Right, I… I’m sorry for interrupting you, you must’ve been…” you gulped, “… busy.”
Hazel flew up to meet your gaze but you wouldn’t look at him. Instead he took in the way your brow was slightly furrowed, a ghost of a pout on your pretty, pink lips.
“I wasn’t …” he paused, tongue parting his mouth. “Don’t apologize. I’ll always come for you,” the male vowed, fixing you with his intense stare.
Butterflies swarmed your stomach at his promise, your cheeks fuzzy with sudden emotion. Wordlessly Azriel closed the distance between you and you froze, wide eyes locked on his close face. And then your feet were swept out from under you and your body was secure in Azriel’s embrace, your head snug against his naked chest.
You didn’t miss the low inhale from the male, your heart racing at his attempt to subtly take in your scent. Your core throbbed and you blushed at the intensity of your body’s response to his. Never had you been up against his bare chest like this… the proximity made you dizzy, your fingers tingling with the urge to explore every inch of him. His skin was so warm– or maybe that was yours, feeling hot wherever you directly touched him. And whose heartbeat was thumping like crazy up against your chest?
Azriel stalked his way inside your home, feet heavy and strides rushed, but careful not to hit you on the doorway. His wings tucked in as he entered the kitchen, and you swallowed at his large silhouette. His head was only a short distance from the ceiling, the apex of his wings nearly dragging against the plaster.
“Did you get… taller?” you peeped up as he gently deposited you on the edge of the sturdy wooden table in the middle of your kitchen, large, scarred hands making sure you were balanced before they drew back.
Shadows slithered off into all directions, melting into the darkness of your dimly lit home. You watched them disappear before you looked at the male once again, only to find his gaze already trained on you.
“Yes,” was his curt reply, hazel tearing off of you as shadows supplied the first aid kit from beneath your bathroom sink cabinet into his waiting hands.
“Oh,” was all you could muster, not quite sure what to make of that.
Your eyes followed long, agile fingers as he opened the kit, rifling through the gauze and bandages. He wordlessly handed you one of the little vials of tonic that would help with the pain and speed up the healing process. Popping the little cork off the bottle, you tipped your head back and gulped down its bitter contents without protest.
Azriel was silent save for his burning gaze and heavy breathing. Even if you couldn’t hear his labored breaths, you could see he was somewhat off by the way his firm chest muscles heaved.
“It’s because of the season,” he explained, voice rough. His wings shuddered and then let loose a brief shake— the claws that lined each joint flexing inward. You shivered as you studied them, imagining the talons would slice through flesh like water, the hooked tips glinting with the promise of pain.
You had to admit, there was something remarkable about just how deadly the male before you truly was… and even more so in his current state. Your eyes wandered to his lean forearms when he uncapped a metal tin of salve, mesmerized by the way his veins bulged with the smallest exertion.
What else could those fingers do?
Your tongue poked out to wet the seam of your lips, just at the same time you turned to look at him. Hazel was ablaze and focused entirely on you, the corner of his eye twitching as his hands turned to fists.
“Don’t,” he warned, tone hard and unwavering.
You swallowed, wincing as he smeared the paste onto your oozing gash. A rough thumb smoothed over the adjacent skin as if to apologize for the fleeting pain, skilled hands wrapping your ankle in bandages with practiced precision.
“Don’t what?” you asked, your voice not sounding your own. The overwhelming terror that had filled you just minutes ago was completely dissipated now; washed away and drowned under fresh waves of desire.
Azriel ripped the gauze from the roll with ease, taking care not to pull too tight as he finished the job with a little bow. The male shook his head, trying to clear the lustful fog that permeated the usual disciplined walls he threw up whenever he was around you.
“If you’re okay now, I have to leave,” he said through clenched teeth, each second spent in your presence making his fight all the harder. There was no venom in his voice— but it was hard, and heavy. His words seemed empty– his body remaining still before you, a scarred hand lingering on your leg.
“Can you stay? Please?” you said, tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eye, giving him your best attempt at demurity. Normally you would never be so bold, but this was far from usual circumstances.
Azriel flashed his teeth at you in what could’ve intended to be a grin, but it came off as more of a grimace, shaking his head. He removed his hand from you, retreating a step. Shadows slowly gathered toward him, and panic flashed in your chest.
“I can’t,” is all he replied with, darkness melting into the edge of his silhouette.
“Why?” Your spine went straight, pushing yourself up to sit upright and face him fully. “Is there… someone waiting for you?” You wanted so badly to sound strong, accusatory… but it only came out as hurt, your words soft.
“No,” he denied instantly, some unknown emotion making his wings flap with indignation behind him, making scrolls scatter around the room, tiny herb jars rattling at the force. Neither of you paid them any mind. “There’s no one. I can’t—” he huffed, turning his face to the side, eyes falling to the floor. He continued, his voice low, “I’ve been alone this season.”
Relief exploded through your body, warmth blooming at his admission. He hadn’t been with anyone else? Worry quickly weaved its way into your heart— why hadn’t he been acting on his instincts? He’d been fighting his desires for the last four days? Wouldn't refraining from… fulfilling his urges have repercussions?
You frowned, taking in the sight of the male before you. He was clearly a divine specimen– there was no way that the other Illyrians simply didn’t want him. And wasn’t he supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust right now; a hunger, a need to fuck anyone who so much as looked at him? You thought harder about what you knew of the season, about the little scraps of knowledge you had discovered deep in the library catalogs.
During mating season, Illyrians are filled with an immutable need to procreate, to extend a lineage with as many partners as possible. Hormones skyrocket within the race and their thirst can only be calmed through physical exertion. Some activities may provide relief, such as violence or self-stimulation, but ultimately, the urge may only be temporarily quelled by sexual intercourse. The only circumstance an Illyrian may abstain from such primal needs is through the recognition of the mating bond. Only through such unparalleled devotion may an Illyrian remain loyal during the mating season, either choosing to spend their rut in solely their mating bed, or in extremely rare cases, solitude.
Your heart felt funny, your stomach flying up into your throat. Wasn’t it possible that Azriel was… your mate? No– because he wouldn’t keep such knowledge from you… not if he knew. But then, if he was truly alone, then it was clear that he knew he had a mate. He had come running to your call when you mentally cried out into the abyss, when you hadn’t even known who you were calling to, if anyone could hear you.
But Azriel heard you. And he had rushed here to save you, even in such a state.
“Then stay,” you said simply, hands coming to lay behind either of your hips on the table.
The shadowsinger bared his teeth, a growl ripping through him that shuddered your core. Your invitation was testing him– you were pushing him too far, and you had the audacity to bat your eyelashes at him while doing so. He was just barely shaking, muscles so tight with restraint that he looked to be in physical pain. “Can’t you see that I’m losing my fucking mind at the sight of you? I can’t control myself right now,” he groaned hoarsely, sweat lining his temple.
You leaned forward, excitement sparking as his eyes immediately flew to the bit of cleavage that was revealed with the motion. Slowly, you spread your legs, your fingers trailing your inner thigh. Your face felt on fire— every part of you did. This was so uncharacteristically bold of you; the two of you had been walking on the eggshells of your attraction for so long now.
But you couldn’t look away from him, couldn't stop yourself from tempting him. You were tired of the games, tired of the questions, of the chase. You wanted him.
You wanted him now.
Your heart felt like it was beating a thousand times a minute as his gaze fixed on the apex of your legs, and you whispered, “So lose control.”
Azriel’s eyes widened, jumping to your face as shock flooded them. His shadows didn’t need to be told twice, immediately twirling around your feet and crawling up your parted legs. He stepped back after a moment of buffering, his shadows seeming to shriek with protest as he yanked them back, withdrawing further away from you.
“No— I could hurt you. This is not how this is supposed to go, we—“ he huffed, fists curled and muscles wound tight. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”
You melted inside, his sentiment sending warmth echoing through you like the wake of a stone plunged into placid water. He had thought about the two of you being together before? The pieces of the puzzle were all falling into place, your doubts dissolving by the second.
Azriel’s eyes widened, surprised he had actually just revealed that to you. A faint blush dusted his tanned cheeks, and he closed and opened his mouth, shocked at his own confession. The inner battle with his raging hormones had made his iron-clad restraints weak; letting words slip from his tongue that had been lingering there for so fucking long.
You slid off the table and took a step forward, palms open at your sides as if he were a wild animal that could be scared off at the slightest wrong move. “Az, you’re right,” you said, eyes fixed on his. “This was supposed to happen a long fucking time ago.”
The male gaped and blinked, hazel eyes wide as they raked over your advancing form.
You drank him in, too— gaze lingering on the sizable bulge that jerked in longing beneath his pants. You pursed your lips, salivating at the thought of what laid beneath. You chanced another step.
“Fuck,” he swore, his breath ragged. He licked his lips, pecs heaving with every labored pant. “Y/n please, you can’t— you don’t know what you’re doing, I’m not myself right now, I don’t want to hurt you.”
You smiled softly. Didn’t he see? “You won’t, Azriel. I trust you…”
“You shouldn’t,” he said, protests growing weaker with every second. You could tell his resolve was slipping, his shadows inching closer to you, stretching for another taste of your skin.
Azriel twitched when your hand met the hot, inked skin of his chest, throwing his head back as he swallowed a moan. His hormones were wild with the season’s influence, heavy pheromones permeating the air with infectious lust. It was becoming unbearable to be this close to you without pressing you against the nearest surface and plunging into the tight heat that was surely slickening between your legs. Kept fingernails dug into the palm of his hands as he clung desperately to the last thread of his composure.
“Please, Az,” you murmured, lips finally touching the column of his throat, as high up as you could reach, just beneath his jaw. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you for another second.” Your tongue poked out to taste him, salt and musk ambrosial on your taste buds.
This time, the male didn’t hold back his moan, instead letting it fill the heavy kitchen air and making butterflies explode in your stomach. The sound sent a rush to your core and you clenched hard, fingernails digging into his flesh.
You squeaked when scarred hands gripped you and flung you back onto the kitchen table, hard enough to concuss. But there was only shock, no pain; for Azriel cushioned the impact, an arm curling around your waist and hand cushioning the back of your skull so you didn’t slam your head— the male fluidly moved with you, ending up pressed above you chest to chest. Your body thrummed with anticipation, excitement bursting forth in your veins.
Now you’d done it.
The last scrap of his restraint had been ripped away and now you were in for the fuck of your life. You blinked in stupor, but Azriel left no time to waste. Hazel was blown wild as he stared down at you, pinning your wrists with each of his large hands.
“Trust this,” he asserted, rutting your clothed sexes together. You gasped, the hard, huge length of him shocking even through the clothes between you, your eyes growing wide as they met his burning hazel gaze. “I am steel for you. Only you.”
His hot tongue lashed out to claim your neck, full lips joining to mark the divot between your clavicle and shoulder. The intensity made you keen, your head tossing to the side as you screwed your eyes shut and sang for him, hips rocking up against his. You could feel your panties wet with slick, his savage behavior making your body throb, readying itself for his taking.
This was insane. There was nothing that could compare to this— the need, the depravity of this, of him.
You could hardly believe that he had come for you, had saved you. Was this the gratitude every maiden in peril felt, or was this something more? Something much more? From the way the male was possessively claiming your skin with his mouth, your heart leapt into your throat, stomach twisting with hope.
But you couldn’t dwell on it, his fingers quickly traveling to the front of your blouse and promptly ripping the seam down your middle. Buttons clattered all around you on the floor below, your breasts spilling out for his eyes to devour. His mouth followed, lips quickly catching a nipple and sucking you in, nose poking into your flesh as he drowned himself in your supple skin.
Your back arched as you mewled, lashes flying shut and digits flying to curl into his hair. Soft onyx locks twisted between your fingers and you couldn’t help the grin that sprouted as he moaned your name into your skin— you weren’t the only one lost in the throes of pleasure.
You couldn’t slow for a second, couldn’t stop— he was hard as rock beneath his leathers, every piece of him lined with lean muscle. But the part of him that melted your brain most was his cock; you could feel it reaching for you, the thick outline of it pressing against your core through the layers. It made you ache, intolerably so— your pussy stirring as you imagined what that length would feel like stretching you out and filling you to the brim. Your hands reached out before you could even comprehend what you were doing.
Azriel roared when your fingers landed on the stiff forearms of his wings, his front surging forward and rutting into yours. The surprise in his gaze quickly morphed to voracity and your body shook in response, your legs spreading to curl around his waist and draw his lower half closer. You squeezed the hard appendages, fingertips sliding down to rub closer to the joints.
Shadows swarmed the pair of you and you cried at their cold touch, having forgotten them completely. But they were sure to remind you of their abilities, and you’d never underestimate them again. One second you were engulfed by darkness and the next, you were completely bare, your nakedness on full display for the shadowsinger’s ferocious gaze to drink up. The tendrils lashed out and snatched your hands from his wings, growing taught around your wrists and holding them down atop the table.
All you could see was his piercing eyes taking in every inch of the sight before him, his shadows covering his body as the silhouette of his massive wings hung high and dark behind him. Obsidian swirls curled into his hair and licked upon his skin, blending easily with the dark whirls of ink that marked his frame.
Your mind was now wholly consumed with lust; the utter primality with which he was treating you made your core stir like nothing else. Your hips wriggled as you waited for him to touch you, but immediately the shadows strapped you firm against the tabletop, your ankles dragging to the corners to expose your most intimate part right before his eyes.
Heat burst into your cheeks, embarrassment blooming in your chest at the exposure. But you saw the way Azriel’s face twisted when his eyes traveled down from your face, down past your tits and your navel and down until they fixed on your pink, glistening hole. Thick brows furrowed and you could practically see the steam from his heavy exhale, his pupils dilating til you swore his gaze had been engulfed by shadow too.
And then all you could see were the wicked talons that crested the tips of his wings, because the male fell to his knees and shoved his face directly into your cunt.
You cried out, body ringing taut when his nose shoved into your clit. The heat of his tongue flat against your entrance drew a subsequent moan out from the depths of your lungs, fingernails digging into the lacquered wood beneath you.
Azriel took you into his mouth and you melted as his guttural moan vibrated through you, your body tingling all the way to your toes. His stubble tickled your thighs as he nudged deeper, drowning himself in your essence. He dove into you without holding back, tracing your slit with precise flicks of that wicked tongue and then slipping the warm muscle inside your quivering hole. The lower half of his face was soon coated in your slick, and with every movement of his, only more wetness leaked out of you for him to savor.
Scarred hands curled around the tops of your thighs, calloused fingertips digging into soft flesh. They spread your legs wider, broad shoulders coming to hold you open as he ravaged you, pulling you closer so that no space remained between the pair of you.
You sobbed when his tongue finally trailed from your entrance, following your folds the short distance to your clit. He growled into your center in response to your garbled noise, lips taking hostage of the sensitive little pearl. Your skull smacked hard wood as your head flew back, but you didn’t care— Azriel’s hands had wandered from your thighs to your hips, slipping underneath to grab handfuls of your plush bottom. His fingers dug into the meat of your ass, pulling you apart so he could shove his face even deeper into your cunt.
“Aha– oh, Az– fuck!” you moaned as he ate you mercilessly, your limbs still held prisoner by taut shadows. No matter how hard you struggled, the void would not give– if you could only hear the things they whispered to their master, if you could only know how happy they were to assist him in his plight…
Azriel groaned against your soaked pussy, the sound echoing in waves of pleasure that rippled through your body. Your legs had begun to shake, fingers curling into fists that couldn’t grab him but desperately wanted to. It should’ve been shameful, the way you were already racing toward an orgasm. He knew just what to do to you, knew exactly how to deliver you right to ecstasy’s doorstep.
And then he drew back.
You had just enough time to open your eyes and look at him to protest, lips already forming your displeasure. But instead, you clocked him as he stood, your eyes falling from his sizzling stare down his contoured, tattooed torso… down to that delicious V that tapered down narrow hips, the ink adorning the lines of his body until—
You gasped, gaze wide. His cock stood upright— tall, thick, swollen, and hard as… steel. A translucent trail of his lust trailed down the vein that bulged along the underside, a sticky bead dripping slowly off the pink tip. Fuck, had such a marvel been within reach all this time?
Your hole clenched in welcome.
Blush stained your cheeks as the male caught the movement, a devilish smirk curling at the corner of his lip. You whimpered when he stepped closer, the tip of him nudging through your glistening folds. Azriel sighed, gripping the base of himself and rubbing the two of you together. Your cries were music to his ears, your hips flexing against the shadows to try and trace yourself onto the thick length of him.
“Oh Gods, you’re perfect,” he murmured, a hand coming to cup one of your breasts in his palm, thumbing over the hardened nipple there. Your name drifted out of him as he loosed a shallow thrust, the very tip of him dipping into your soaked opening.
You wailed when his hips drew back and he slid back in with ease, half of him disappearing inside of you. How he had slipped inside of you so easily, you couldn’t know– you were wetter than you’d ever been, yes, but his manhood was also almost too big– you didn't know if it would fit all the way inside. Your head fell back against the table once more, your quick breaths making your chest rise and fall, your breasts heaving with the action.
The shadowsinger watched the movement, unable to tear his eyes away from you. Only once he heard your sob did he realize he had thrust in all the way, and your eyes had rolled back as your body strained underneath him. You looked so angelic like that, with your cunt wrung tight and wet around all of him, your curves making both his wings and his cock twitch with anticipation.
He gave another tentative thrust, the last shred of sanity slipping from his brain as your walls hugged him, his body trembling. He’d been able to hold out on his own for the last few days by pleasuring himself, but that was leagues away from this. The inside of you was completely soaked for him, and the heat of you squeezing around him made the last of his resolve melt away into nothingness.
You could see the moment his control really slipped— his hazel gaze bleeding black on the edges. His grip tightened, fingertips digging into your flesh like claws as he gathered your hips closer to him, so your ass rested right on the edge of the table. Excitement and a little fear burst forth in your stomach as intensity radiated off of the male, the scent of his outright arousal heavy in the air.
Suddenly his hips snapped forward, and you couldn’t stop the shriek that spilled out of you. Azriel moaned too, louder than you’d imagined he would in your fantasies. Every inch of him was nestled inside of you and that was no ordinary feat. Your cunt throbbed with the thought, more of your essence oozing out for him.
Azriel didn’t waste a drop of it, finding a rhythm that buried himself to the hilt inside you with ease thanks to your ample slick. Huge, magnificent wings trembled behind him, a sign of just how strung out he was in his current state.
“Ugh, fuck— Goddess, you’re a goddess,” he praised, gaze fixed on the bounce of your tits as he rammed into you again and again.
His name fell from your lips as you panted, your hole stretched wide around the base of him. Each stroke had your mind melting, sweat starting to cling to your skin as you trembled at the intensity of the pleasure. You watched his massive cock slide in and out of you, your slick coating the inside of your thighs as you greedily took in every thrust.
“I can’t, ahh I can’t, I can’t—“ Azriel chanted, his abs clenched so hard you couldn’t help but watch sweat drip down the valleys between the prominent muscles.
Suddenly his thumb found its way to your clit and began to glide over the little nub with great generosity. You wailed and clamped onto him harder, your climax racing forth as his hips continued to slap wetly against yours.
“Cum,” he ordered, voice clipped and full of unshakable authority. The sheer dominance radiating off of the male above you was palpable, your body bending to his command. “Be a good girl for me and cum on my cock. Y’want me to cum in this pretty pussy baby? C’mon, cum and milk it out of me, good girl— oh fuck yes—“
Your cunt went tight around him and you cried out as stars flooded your vision, your orgasm hurtling into you, his filthy words sending you over the edge. Pure ecstasy pulsed through your entirety as you came, your walls pulsing as they ached for his imminent release. You felt like your entire body was aflame, and yet that was nothing compared to the heat glowing in your chest, a foreign, welcome weight presenting itself, a rope to hold onto as you nearly lost yourself in the throes of pleasure.
Azriel moaned and pushed all the way inside of you as he met his own climax. Hot streams of his seed spurted out of his throbbing cock, deep into your womb and your eyes rolled back at the heat that blossomed there. You could feel yourself filling with him— he just kept shaking and throbbing and moaning as more and more emptied out of him. Days of just barely scraping by the mating season had left him with balls painfully full and now all you could do was ride out the waves of your shared orgasm as he filled you to the brim. Sweet relief washed through Azriel’s overheated body– emanating from where the base of his cock nestled deep inside of you. With every spurt of release, that insatiable need within him extinguished until he nearly fell on top of you, shaky arms braced to catch himself.
His face fit into your neck, labored breaths cascading over your hot skin. Tremendous leathery wings draped down over his shoulders, his rough hands coming to wrap around the back of your neck and your waist, pressing your bodies together with great care. You hummed with satiety and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, floating back to the ground from your ecstasy. Your hands now released from his shadowy binds, one combed through his silky hair while the other found the divot of his spine, fingers trailing over his dampened skin in soothing motions.
For the first time in days, Azriel’s mind was clear. His eyes opened wide as he came to his senses. He had just taken full advantage of you– he was balls-deep inside of you, and you were full of his seed. His breath began to quicken, his just-calmed mind now gaining speed as the full extent of his actions now hit him.
Slowly he retreated from the solace of your embrace, just enough to catch your eye. “Y/n, I–” he began but you wouldn’t let him.
You wouldn’t let him regret this when you were still here, in the best moment of your life, the intensity of the fresh golden thread between your hearts glowing and filling your body with unbridled joy.
“I love you, Azriel,” you declared, hands coming to hold his sculpted jaw, thumbs drifting over his cheeks and chin. You imagined the tether in your mind, taking hold of it and tugging, like you were pulling your chests impossibly closer.
Surprise flooded his gaze, his brow high as his parted lips ticked up into a sideways grin. His hazel eyes softened as they roamed your face, like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He breathed out your name, voice soft as a feather, his fingers stroking your neck tenderly.
“My mate,” you whispered and Azriel visibly shuddered, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he closed his eyes and smiled bigger than you’d ever seen. It was the most breathtaking sight, him smiling like that– and your heart felt so full, knowing that you were the cause behind it.
The male tucked his face back into your shoulder and gathered your body flush to his, cradling you even closer than before, pressing every piece of you together as close as possible. “My mate,” he echoed, deep voice almost a purr, his happiness rippling over the bond in loud, unapologetic swells.
You pulled his hair just enough for him to lean back and see eye to eye again, sharing a loving look before your lips met. Sparks rushed through your body, his lips slotting between yours and your noses brushing together. You drew back to catch your breath, but Azriel leaned in and captured your mouth once more, unwilling to part with you for even a moment. You gasped and his tongue glided in, meeting yours with a wild tenderness you’d never experienced before. Your tongues brushed together and you couldn’t fight the small moan that crept out of you, your body moving on its own volition to roll your hips against his.
Azriel moaned back, and your cheeks flushed with heat as you felt his hard cock twitch inside of you– you hadn’t realized he’d never softened, even after that law-defying orgasm. You could feel his essence leaking from you– his member taking up so much space inside you, there was barely any room for his cum to remain within your walls.
You seemed to be on the same page, for he stepped back and you both watched as he unsheathed his thick length from you. Finally he removed himself and your hole clenched at the emptiness. Your cheeks became hot as you witnessed a river of his thick, white cum rush out, the sheer amount of it so much that the stream swiftly became a puddle that spilled over the table’s edge and onto the floor.
The sight only made you hungry for more, your bottom lip taken prisoner between your teeth. You caught Azriel’s equally-desirous gaze, throwing one more glance at his cream-covered cock before you flipped yourself over, your palms and knees now resting flat on the tabletop, careful to keep your injured ankle dangling off the table.
Your male growled at the invitation, immediately closing the distance between you two. His hands took hold of your ass, so large that his fingers could grip the curve of the soft flesh and his thumbs spread your raw pussy open at the same time. You whined as you felt more of him leak out, trailing over your clit and down your thighs.
Azriel moaned at the sight, dipping a thumb into his spend and inside your cunt, enjoying the feeling of your aching walls throbbing around him. You panted and bucked back against him, desperate for more. Now that you’d had a taste of his cock, and his cum… nothing else would suffice. The Illyrian complied with your needs– his cock already hard and dripping with precum again, the sight of you too much. The lust from his hormones was already starting to build again– or maybe that was the fresh acknowledgment of the bond– he didn’t know, nor care.
You keened when the searing tip of him pressed against your entrance once more, spread wide so he could watch your pussy swallow every inch he offered. He slipped inside just as easily as before, both of you letting out a long moan in harmony as your ass met his hips, cock hot and hard inside your throbbing walls. The stretch of him was so utterly delicious, you couldn’t stop yourself from bouncing back onto him just to feel it again, and then again.
Azriel threw his head back and allowed himself to revel in the pleasure as you set a steady pace, pussy greedily gobbling up every inch of his incredible length. You whimpered at the sensation of his tip prodding deep, deep within you– a spot you didn’t know existed revealing the very apex of your vulnerability, your pleasure.
The noises you let loose as you sat back onto him each time you never knew you could make– the feeling of your bodies becoming one unlike anything you could have imagined. Your mate was just as deep in the tides of euphoria as you, rough hands steady as he guided you back and forth on his cock. You didn’t know how long you’d last, how long you’d been fucking back onto him, didn’t even know your name. All you could feel was pleasure, your mate, his pleasure, your bond.
You felt that knot tightening in your stomach again.
You cried out when you felt his thumb rove over your asshole, pressing firmly against you as he took control, his other hand holding your hips in place so he could set a punishing pace. The digit slipped inside and your eyes widened, the stretch foreign but oh so welcome. You started to shake, your orgasm nearing as he thrust hard and deep.
Azriel panted as he watched you take him, the curve of your spine bent just right, your ass up and his hands on you– in you. Your soft little body taking his hard large one so well– fuck, he could feel your climax coming through the bond and that only catalyzed his own. Words evaded him this time, your emotions mingling with his along with his Illyrian hormones; everything felt that much stronger– overwhelming. He was so close– he needed you to cum, needed you to milk him again, his mate.
Shadows slithered up onto the table and twirled around your nipples, and you tensed, crying out at the surprise stimulation. The whirls then curled around your thighs and met your poor swollen clit, the cool sensation the final straw as you clenched down and came hard.
You screamed his name, your orgasm barreling through you like never before. Your ears rang, your vision flashing white and your chest hot– searingly hot– so, so hot, and then–
Azriel cried out as he came too, pressing into you ‘til he was balls-deep, emptying into the depths of your womb. Your mate’s ecstasy careened over the fresh bond, and paired with the shadows that kept on caressing you, you sobbed as you came again, not even recovered from your initial orgasm.
Your entirety felt as though it had been dunked under complete and utter bliss. Pure pleasure totally consumed you, leaving you totally helpless with no choice but to feel everything.
Azriel struggled with the same intensity behind you, cock still pumping into you even if he had nothing left to give. His great wings shivered with ecstasy, eyes rolled back, fingertips digging into your soft flesh for dear life as he whimpered.
Eventually the earth materialized beneath you and you all but collapsed onto the table. Azriel let out a grunt of agreement, chest still rising and falling in exertion. His hand left your ass and gripped the base of him as he pulled out, watching as his seed followed, dripping onto the table once more. There was not nearly as much as before, yet still a decent amount came out. He bit his lip, tracing the outline of your soiled cunt with the head of his swollen cock, studying your pink intimacy as your body quivered.
It was unnatural that he already felt the smallest itch to go again— but his cock had been rock hard since the season started and he doubted he would ever soften now that you had recognized him as your mate. At least now his body felt his own; the need to procreate fed and tamed, for how long, he didn’t know.
Suddenly cool shadows enveloped the pair of you before depositing you both upon your bed in the adjacent room. Your head hit the pillow and you moaned in delight, exhaustion taking root in your core.
Azriel lay beside you, face to face, a small smile on his lips as he watched your eyelids fight to stay open. You shivered and scooched closer to him, and he curled an arm around you, happy to comb a hand through your hair and hold you close. His shadows pulled a thin blanket over you, meandering across your exposed shoulder and hair with a calm kind of joy.
“Rest now, my little mate,” he murmured, savoring the beat of your heart so close to his, the feeling of your warm breath against his chest. “You’ll need your strength if we’re to survive the rest of the season...”
