older!simonriley who is a little bit surprised when you ask him to sleep with you. you tell him how inexperienced you are and that you wish to learn how to properly pleasure someone. he's not sure if he's gonna say yes but, you're probably going to ask someone else anyway, and the mere idea makes him sick. he doesn’t regret it when he sees your big doe eyes looking up at him as you're on your knees, his fat cock standing proudly before you. he snickers at your intimidated expression before grabbing gently your hair and guiding your lips on his lenght, a sigh escaping him as he feels the warmness of your mouth. even as you gag and that tears are threatning to spill, he doesn’t stop, you'll have to learn the hard way anyway.
Ghost loves when you send him photos through out your day while he’s at work.
A meeting is about to start when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s around 12pm. So it must be a picture of what you’re eating for lunch.
maybe a sandwich with crisps? or maybe an açaí bowl from that new place you were talking about this morning.
He opened the notification.
Ghost slammed his phone face down on the table. Price and Soap looked at eachother confused, as did others in the room. The silence was awkward.
Maybe you had sent him in angry text ??
In reality you had sent Simon a suggestive photo. More than just suggestive actually.
You were sat infront of a mirror. Legs spread wide open. No panties. All you had on was Simon’s go-to sleeping shirt, the hem was pulled up to expose your breast. Your face hidden behind your phone.
He only looked at the photo for a second. But through out the whole meeting all he could think about were your slick folds glistening in the picture.
He knew exactly what had to be done as soon as he got home.
cw: so it's casual but not at all. all i'm saying is undertones (but they're not all that subtle)
it doesn't matter where you are, as long as jack is with you, his hands are on you somehow. whether his palm rests on the small of your back or his fingers curl into the nape of your neck, he guides you through the crowd with a stern look on his face.
to jack, the sidewalk rule might as well be holy scripture. when you cross the street, he immediately switches sides with you. his girl is not walking right where the cars speed past, not when he has seen how quickly an accident can happen.
when it gets dark, jack’s chest puffs out a little more the moment you walk past a group of people, especially if it’s a group of men. he’ll step in front of you like a human shield. should anyone dare to look at you the wrong way, he'll let go of your hand, and instead he'll wrap an arm around you, flexing the muscles beneath his shirt purposefully
food groups—jack makes sure your meals are up to his standard. while he can get away with drinking coffee for breakfast, you best believe he won’t let you out of the house without getting some protein and fiber in you. he even cuts your food for you if you’re too tired, no matter how much you complain about being treated like a kid. (maybe a part of you secretly likes it.)
he doesn’t say anything about the length of your skirts or shorts, but he keeps an eye on them when you’re out together. he’ll pull the fabric down when it rides up or step behind you, should you bend over to pick something up. he glares at anyone whose eyes linger a little too long on your exposed skin, even if it’s “just” your thighs.
when you can’t decide what to wear, he’ll pick for you.
“the purple top looks good, sweet pea. wear that with the black skirt. no, no, the silk one.”
he’ll nod approvingly, hands wandering immediately. his fingers will dig into the flesh of your hips, holding what is his while he takes you in.
“such a pretty girl, mhm?”
jack plans. he organizes dates, makes reservations and picks out the perfect spots for you. he’ll tell you to be ready at seven and then makes sure you are actually ready.
“attagirl”
“good job, baby”
“you’re doing so good”
he likes using those phrases against you because he knows how much they mess with your praise-starved mind. you’ll hear him whisper one of them to you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, when you do even the simplest task.
jack sometimes picks you up randomly. just to show you that he can. he doesn’t grunt or struggle but makes it seem like the easiest thing in the world—because to him, it is.
placing you on the kitchen counter while you cook together, throwing you on the bed (gently, of course), or carrying you over a big puddle so you don't get your shoes soaked--he loves the startled shriek he manages to pull from you every time.
when you watch a movie together, he’ll scratch your head until you practically purr.
“you like that, baby?”
“just relax. but don’t fall asleep, sweet pea. keep those eyes open f’me.”
it’s your weak spot. the second his fingers thread through your hair, you’re jelly in his hands. his husky voice doesn't help keep your mind focused on the movie at all.
“tell ‘em no carnations at my funeral. fuckin’ hate those.”
you sigh, for what felt like the millionth time in past three days. “simon—”
“and promise me you’ll at least wait a couple of decades before finding someone else.”
“simon, for the love of god, you’re not dying. just drink the damn soup.”
he scrunched his face as if he had been deeply wronged by you, but he drank the soup from the spoon you had held near his mouth anyway, moaning and groaning after the slightest movements. “you did not answer me, lovie. how long would you wait before finding another man after i am gone?”
simon had caught common cold and it happened three days ago. he had come home after running some errands and later, the same evening, the nasal congestion happened, and then the sneezing. oh god, the sneezing. he drank hot tea and had slept on the couch that night so you wouldn’t catch cold too. he said it’d go away soon, that it was nothing.
only, it didn’t go away. next day, he came down with proper cold. tiredness, headache, sore throat, light fever, cough—all that stuff.
and if simon wasn’t the most dramatic version of himself while he was sick. it was a new experience entirely, watching the big, serious guy act like spongebob once he got sick. simon hadn’t fallen sick before. not that you had witnessed anytime he did. but now that he did, you were seeing a totally different side of him.
he’d been acting as if he had a terminal disease instead of common cold. it was adorable in a way, really.
“hmm, let’s see… perhaps a year, i think?” you say, trying to hold back a smile. if he was going to be dramatic, you were definitely going to play along. “appropriate mourning period.”
“a year?”
“i mean, i am quite young, no? can’t give up on love this young,” you explain, holding another spoonful of the warm soup near his mouth, which he slurped gently. “a woman has needs, after all.”
simon looked at you for a few seconds as if you had betrayed him, and then he pulled up the covers a bit, trying to get inside those fully and lay back down on the bed. “i’ll come back as a ghost to haunt that man.”
now that almost makes you huff out a soft laughter, but you control it. “two years is the max i can do, love,” you say, trying your best to sound earnest, though you were miserably failing trying to hold back a smile.
“i don’t like the thought of dying anymore,” he replies finally, sounding as though he had uttered those words after a lot of thinking, and laid back down on the bed. there even was a soft, pout on his face, as if he was deep in thought. it was all so comical.
“that’s what i’ve been telling you for the past three days—and no you can’t go back to sleep just yet,” you reprimand him mildly, splacing the cup of soup back on the nightstand before pulling him back up using all your strength. “finish the soup first, it’s warm, good for the throat. then you have take the meds.”
“but lovie―”
“simon.” you just had to act strict to get him to listen. after he had finished the soup and taken the medicine, you fluffed up his pillow and let him lay back down on the bed.
“sleep tight, love.” you press a kiss on his forehead, tucking the hair strands back so they don’t fall on his eyes.
you were just about to leave the room before he spoke up, voice hoarse and raspy due to cold. “lovie ’m fucked, nose‘s so blocked… can you spoon me? need yer hugs and kisses...”
you smile warmly at his request. there was a high chance you would catch cold too, but fuck it. it was just a cold. you could recover from it in a week, max. after all, it’s not everyday you get to cuddle with a dramatic simon. “sure thing. but no more talks of dying, okay?”
“mhm.” simon nods obediently, shifting aside on the bed to make space for you. and when you settle down beside him, he rests his head on your chest, finally content.
suddenly, he raises his head up to look at you. “to be clear, you were jokin’, right?”
✮ using ghost/simon as your own portable stand, mirror and chair wherever the two of you go.
it's almost routine now whenever the two of you leave the house, as soon as it hits the one hour mark you're opening your camera app and handing it over to him to hold, eyebrows furrowed in slight concentration as you touch up your lip liner and gloss. or when you turn to him and ask if you should fix your hair or clothing. "jus' a bit, love. you look perfect any'ow."
and if you're feet are feeling sore from walking for too long in your heels, simon's immediately finding a place to sit where he can pull you onto his lap instead of letting you sit directly onto the public space and messing up your pretty clothes with dust.
all the while, his eyes are practically gazing at your beauty in awe, not like some uncontrollably lovesick puppy, but there's a softness that only appears when he's admiring your beauty. so long as you give him that sweet smile of gratitude when you're done, he'll gladly let you have your way with him.
hiii a humble tf141 req here 🤲 the guys seeing reader use a weighted blanket and being confused/jealous/etc. there’s no place for a weighted blanket when reader has her massive and built partner to snuggle and lay on her!!
w/ gn!reader
Simon “Ghost” Riley is tearing the weighted blanket off of you without a word, falling like a dead weight on top of you afterward, squishing you into the bed/sofa/floor/wherever until you’re gasping “Simon I can’t breathe.”
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick is confused (and a little hurt) that you didn’t ask him to be your blanket. He’ll mope, stare down at you like his gaze will somehow awaken you to his ire, and he might pace about. But he’ll eventually settle, snuggling against you as big spoon, muttering under his breath about it.
John Price isn’t going to do shit. That man is leaving you alone or going to bed without you because how dare you not ask him.
John “Soap” MacTavish is backing up for a sprint. He’ll fly through the air, arms outstretched, dog piling you without notice because he’s a menace.
mmmmmmm something something sugar daddy!robby with no attachments. he just buys you stuff and in turn, you accompany him to dinner a few nights a week. no sex, no oral, no lewd pictures—just a nice dinner that he generously pays for.
you’re quite grateful for it, you have a steady flow of income from him and the little job you do on the side, he gives you flowers, nice jewellery, pretty dresses and lingerie—and he even paid for a brand new car for you. and he’s sweet too, genuinely nice to you and he makes you laugh, whether it’s during dinner or over text, you’re always giddy and giggly talking to him.
and it frustrates you that you want to be more with him, but he doesn’t. you pretend to be fine about it, but most of the time you’re sulking in your bedroom about it, looking at pictures of him and wishing he was yours.
but then he stops the dinners, the gifts soon stop as well, but the flow of income stays. you text him and ask him if everything’s okay and he just replies with i’ll explain everything soon. you can’t sleep that night, tossing and turning, worrying about him—does he not want this anymore? has he lost his money? his job? is he ill?
to try and take your mind off it, you take a week off work and go back home to visit your mom. you love going for bottomless brunch with her and it’s the perfect pick me up after a week of no nice things from robby. she even mentions her handsome new boyfriend is picking her up afterwards—which you’re not so excited about. since the divorce five years ago, she’s had almost a myriad of boyfriends and you’re just begging and hoping one of them stays for longer than a month.
once you’d finished your last drinks, you sat and chatted for a while, before she grinned, pointed behind you and almost squealed oh there’s my handsome new boyfriend now. you turn around, the colour draining from your face as you saw the man who’s been pulling away from you for a week now.
then it hits you and everything all makes sense now. she’s his age, someone he can really settle down with, have a life with, take to nice dinners and lavish with gifts because it’s normal. with you, it’s not normal. you’re the girl half his age he’d get dirty looks from if he walked hand in hand with you down the street. the one he doesn’t want to commit to because he’s scared you’ll leave him for someone younger and better than him.
and yet, it kills him everyday that you visit home, eyeing him up as he relaxes on the couch, wanting so badly to apologise to you, kiss you and tell you what he really wants, that you’ve always been who he wanted but he’s stupid for ever thinking otherwise.
but he doesn’t. just forces himself to try and act normal around you. i mean, technically now he is your stepdad. and that’s even more morally wrong now. but then you’re skipping around the house in tight denim shorts and little crop tops a size too small for you. you offer to help with the cooking, while your mom is out shopping and you purposefully push your chest out slightly, leaning forward to taste the pasta sauce off the spoon. you think robby hasn’t noticed what you’re doing, but his fist is clenched by his side and his teeth grind against each other. you just smile at him before hopping up to sit on the kitchen island behind him. he pauses for a moment, then turns to you, standing directly in front of you.
“you need to stop what you’re doing..”
“what? tasting the sauce? i think it’s actually an integral—”
“coming onto me while your mother is out the house. what we had before is over. okay? i’m your stepdad now and that’s it.”
“so no more gifts?”
“of course not. our arrangement is over.. but if you want something, i’ll give you it.”
you grin at him, kicking your feet gently, before letting your foot graze up his leg, rubbing over his crotch.
“hmm.. i think i want your cock..”
“absolutely fucking not.” he growled at you, wrist grabbing at your ankle and holding your leg away from his half-hard cock, now straining against his trousers.
“but you said, if i want something, you’ll give me it.. and what i want, dad.. is your cock in my mouth, please?” you pouted, whining at him while he inadvertently flicked his eyes down to the wet patch on your underwear—which he had now exposed completely by way of him pulling your ankle away from him.
“no. and don’t fucking ask again.”
“but dad.. s’what i want.. and you can even have my tight little pussy as a treat..”
he just let go of your ankle, turning round and continuing on cooking dinner, muttering something under his breath. you hopped off the counter and walked over to him, asking him what he had said, standing on your tiptoes, hands on his shoulder and looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“not now.”
“so when?”
“tomorrow. when your mother’s gone out for that dinner with her friends.”
“you promise?”
“anything my little girl wants, my little girl gets.”
You’ve done reader and uncle!robby getting caught by reader’s dad
You’ve done reader and uncle!robby getting caught by reader’s mom
I think it’s time for reader’s boyfriend to walk on reader and Robby; maybe if they’re in position that reader always refused to do with her boyfriend.
(you can make it more disgusting if it’s step dad!robby)
hear me out hear me out!!!! boyfriend’s dad!robby getting caught with reader by his son!?!?!?!
walk with me…
getting caught with boyfriend's dad!robby (f!reader)
wc: 3.9k (whoops)
warnings/tags: smut. mdni. cheating!! age gap (unspecified but there), oral (m! and f!), unprotected piv, creampie, angst i guess but not really??, getting caught having sex, comfort at the end. f!reader. daddy kink.
you and your boyfriend had been together for a couple of months, you met at work and he’d been begging you to go on a date with him since your first day. you turned him down probably 100 times before saying yes, remembering everyone’s advice about never dating your co-workers. but he was nice and seemed somewhat normal so eventually you agreed.
the date was okay, nothing to write home about but it wasn’t terrible so you agreed to another, and then another until he asked you to be his girlfriend. you weren’t in love with him per say, but you thought maybe you could be, could end up falling in love with him some point down the line…
that was until you met his very handsome father.
it was your boyfriend’s birthday so you ended up travelling to his home town of pittsburgh to meet his parents to spend the weekend with them. given the fact that you weren’t really that invested in your relationship yet you weren’t exactly nervous about meeting his parents, until you stepped into the arrivals terminal at the airport and saw the very handsome older man who you assumed to be his father.
taking in his tall, broad frame and his greying hair and aged features your breathing got caught in your throat and you silently hoped that he wasn’t in fact your boyfriends dad. but as your boyfriend waved at the couple and they waved back that hope was shattered.
“oh! my sweet boy! i missed you sooo much!!” the older woman who you presumed to be your boyfriend’s mom cooed as she wrapped him up in her arms, peppering the top of his head with kisses.
you stood awkwardly behind, gripping the handle of your suitcase until your knuckles turned white as you took a closer look at his hot dad. noting the way the skin by his eyes crinkled as he smiled at his son, and then the way his cheeks flushed an unmistakable shade of pink when his eyes finally landed on you.
you looked away, staring awkwardly at the floor when his eyes met yours. you had felt it then, a jolt of heat that rolled through your body when his eyes lingered just a little bit too long on your own. fuck.
“mom. dad. this is my girlfriend…” he introduces you by name and you could’ve sworn you saw a little bit of light die behind his mother’s eyes when he used the word girlfriend. but she smiled sweetly at you anyway, whether it was genuine or not, you didn’t really care.
“it’s nice to meet you” she smiles, notably not extending her hand out for you to shake or really acknowledging you in anyway but by word.
“you too!” you extend your own fake smile before your eyes land back on his dad, who was offering you a real genuine smile. it was shy, small and his cheeks grew a darker shade of red when you returned the same smile. heat pooled low in your belly at that and subconsciously you pressed your thighs together.
“hey, i’m michael but everyone calls me robby” he extends his hand for you to shake, you take it and you swear you felt a spark as your hands met and the way he immediately looked away from you told you he felt it too.
“hi, robby” he’s so much taller than you that you have to look up at him, your eyes all big and round as you peer at him through your lashes. a small smile creeps up on your face and you feel your own cheeks getting hotter by the second.
you don’t say much during the ride back from the airport, you can barely get a word in anyway as your boyfriends mom asks him all sorts of questions about how he’s been since she last saw him. so you just sit there in the back of the car, fiddling with your hands awkwardly in the back making eye contact with robby in the rear view mirror every so often. he looks away immediately every time but two seconds later he’s looking again, like he can’t stop even if he wanted to.
that first night at his parent’s home is pretty uneventful it was late when you got in after dinner so you headed straight to bed. you couldn’t sleep, your mind full of thoughts of robby as your boyfriend held you close to his chest you felt sick as you wished it was his dad instead.
it took ages for you to fall asleep and when you woke up around 10am the next morning your boyfriend wasn’t in bed beside you anymore. you threw on some pajama shorts and a loose tank top and went downstairs to look for him but you only found robby sat at the kitchen table reading something on his phone.
“morning..” you announce your presence in the room and robby jumps at the sound of your voice, his head snapping to where you stand in the doorway. his eyes scan your body, taking in the way your tits move in your loose top as your chest heaves from the effort of your breathing. then he’s taking in your legs, how they’re pressed together slightly as you shift on the balls of your feet and how your tiny pajama shorts cup the plump mound of your pussy so obviously.
“hi..” he breathes out, not realising he’d been holding said breath since he laid his eyes on you.
“where is everyone?” you ask, finally stepping into the kitchen and pulling out the chair closest to robby. he watches intently as you sit, appreciating the way your thighs fill out as they press against the wood of the chair, making the v shape of your pussy in your shorts more noticeable.
his eyes don’t leave your crotch the whole time, unashamedly staring as he asks, “who..?” you giggle at that, at the way he’s so stuck on you and your body that he forgot all about his wife and son.
“your wife? your son? my boyfriend?”
that snaps him back to life, his eyes finally leaving your legs and meeting your eyes. pink flushes your cheeks again just as it did back in the airport. “oh they went out for breakfast, some silly birthday tradition they’ve had since he was a kid”
you nod, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you look robby up and down. he looked so good in his plaid pajama pants and white t-shirt that was a little too tight on him, hugging his soft tummy and big arms in all the right ways.
robby offers you a drink then which you accept, your eyes trained on him as he moves around the kitchen. you spend a little while chatting over glasses of orange juice, giggling at all his jokes and listening intently as he tells you about himself, his job at the ed and just anything that comes to mind. all the while he’s devouring you with his eyes, it’s somehow so casual and intense at the same time. your thighs burn from how hard you’re pressing them together under his gaze.
he asks you questions about yourself too, smiling and nodding along when you answer them. it honestly felt like a first date, and you were feeling a lot more than on any date with your actual boyfriend.
who speaking of which came home soon after with his mom, interrupting yours and robby’s little kitchen moment. your boyfriend comes over and kisses the top of your head, you want to pull away but force yourself not to and you wish him happy birthday. his mother looks you up and down in something that resembles disgust, obviously not impressed with your revealing outfit, unlike her husband. her husband who was now looking anywhere but at you.
the rest of the day is spent at home celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday, opening presents and enjoying drinks with a couple more close family members. you mostly stay out of the way, sitting on the patio with robby as everyone fusses over the birthday boy by the backyard pool.
you’d changed into a white string bikini earlier much to your boyfriend’s mom’s dismay and robby’s delight, only covered by an almost sheer cover up tied around your waist and just like this morning robby’s eyes were all over you.
you’d spent the better part of the last hour teasing him, pushing your chest out purposefully when he looked, leaning over him further than necessary to talk over the music playing on the speakers, placing your hand on his bicep to stabilise yourself when you did so. and it was working, there’d been a somewhat noticeable bulge in robby’s shorts for some time now, which he hoped you hadn’t noticed but obviously you had.
you wanted him so bad, so much so that it was getting harder and harder not to just jump on him and take him for all he had right there on the patio. and when he laughed at something you said and placed his hand on the top of your thigh, it only got harder. you looked around to check if anyone was watching but they were all too busy with your boyfriend, who you imagine had forgotten you were even there. so you placed your hand over his and brought it up higher, his long fingers slipping on the inside, grazing your pussy over your bikini bottoms.
robby sucks in a harsh breath, his eyes snapping to yours, his pupils were already blown wide. “not here..” he whispers, removing his hand from your leg.
“where then?” you ask, biting your lip and giving him your best doe-eyed look.
he looks around and thinks for a second before grabbing his drink and tipping it over you. he shoves the drink into your hand before you can even let out a gasp. everyone turns to look at you then. robby takes the drink from your hand and places it down on the table next to him before standing up and helping you up too.
“come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he’s pushing you forwards now with one hand on your back as he guides you back into the house and up the stairs, pulling you into his bedroom and clicking the door shut behind him.
as soon as you’re in the room he’s spinning you around and pushing you up against the wall. his lips are on yours in seconds, taking your mouth in a hot, wet kiss. it’s messy and possessive, he’s forcing his tongue in your mouth and you can’t help but moan into his as he literally takes your breath away. his hands are all over you, grabbing and squeezing every single inch of your skin.
he pulls away after a minute to let you catch your breath, his eyes are so dark, almost fully black now as he looks down at you with an intensity unlike anything you’ve experienced before.
“fuck, this is bad” robby pants, reaching his hand around your back and pulling the string of your bikini top open. his lips are on your collarbone then, kissing across it and down the soft swell of your breasts until your nipple is in his mouth.
you gasp, your hands fly to the back of his head, gripping his hair tight as he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, suckling it softly in his mouth.
“i know..so bad” you whine, your hips involuntarily bucking forward into his, grinding your clothed cunt against the prominent erection in his shorts.
“we shouldn’t be doing this” he says as he pulls off your nipple before giving the other the same attention.
“i know” you moan, reaching one of your hands down between your bodies to grab his cock over his pants, giving it a gentle squeeze that has robby groaning around your breast.
“so tell me to stop” he’s sinking to his knees now, his hands already untying the strings on your hips, your bottoms falling to the floor by your feet.
you shake your head, “don’t you fucking dare.”
you part your legs for him and his tongue finds your clit in seconds, his big dark eyes trained on yours as he eats your cunt like a starved man. he’s pushing his face into you, his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue teases your dripping hole, swallowing every taste of you that hits his tongue.
your hands are in his hair again, holding him tight against you as you grind your hips against his face. robby lets out a deep, guttural groan and his eyes roll back from the pleasure of you using his mouth to get yourself off.
that familiar heat builds up in your stomach fast, your thighs clench against robby’s face signalling to him that you’re close so he takes two fingers and pushes them against your entrance before shoving them in. he doesn’t even need to lube them up, you’re soaked, your own arousal dripping down your legs as you come undone on his face.
“fuck– oh my god, ‘m gonna– shit, robby just like that– please” he curls his fingers against that spot inside of you and suddenly you’re seeing stars behind your closed eyes and your body shakes as your orgasm crashes over you. robby holds you up against the wall with one hand, the other still pumping inside of you working you through your high.
your breathing is ragged as you come down, your knees buckle beneath you as you look down to see robby cleaning you up with his mouth, his beard shiny with your arousal.
“feelin’ better, sweetheart?” robby coos as he straightens back up, cradling the side of your face with his large hand, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen during your orgasm.
you nod, your eyes glassy and a hazy smile lines your lips as you mumble, “mhmm– yes. thank you.”
you lean up on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek, tasting yourself in his beard, he smiles at that. but the smile fades as his lips part when your hand strokes his cock over his pants again and then you’re the one sinking to your knees. you pop open the button of his shorts, your fingers shake slightly as you pull down the zipper and then again when you’re hooking them under the waistband of both his shorts and boxer briefs, pulling them down to free his achingly hard cock.
he’s big, not huge but much bigger than his son you note as you wrap a soft hand around his girth, bringing his flushed tip to your lips and giving it a small lick. robby hisses, stumbling forward he holds himself up with one hand on the wall as the other comes down to grab a fistful of your hair.
“you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, we can go back downstairs–” robby starts, getting cut off by another lick to the underside of his head. you furrow your brows as you look up at him, tapping his cock against your tongue.
“i just don’t want you to feel like you have to just because i ate you out, you know? i know women don’t like to do this”
you raise an eyebrow at him, “is that what your wife tells you?”
robby nods, swallowing thickly as you press a kiss against his tip.
“you poor thing. your wife not taking care of you? don’t worry, i’m here now.” you smirk before finally wrapping your lips around him, sinking onto him halfway, swirling your tongue around the length of him, tracing every ridge with your tongue.
robby shudders, his knuckles turning white against the wall from the effort of keeping himself up as you suck on his cock like you were made for it. his hand in your hair tightens, trying so hard not to force you the rest of the way down.
“shit– feels so fucking good. almost forgot how- fuck- good this felt” he groans, his head lulling forwards, his eyes fixed on yours as you look up at him through your lashes with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. the sight of that alone would be enough to make robby cum, but he holds on.
“want to be inside you so fucking bad. bet that pretty little pussy of yours is so tight. shit– need that so fucking bad” he’s pulling you off of him now, you release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop and a pout.
“but i wanna-” you go to take him again but he yanks your head back.
“don’t have time, need to feel inside of you before someone comes looking for us. please, sweetheart” he’s begging with his eyes which you just can’t say no to.
“only if you promise i get to finish what i started later”
“of course, you can do that again whenever you want” robby huffs out a laugh as he takes your hand and pulls you over to his bed. you climb on and lay down in the middle. he’s on you in seconds, settling between your open legs not wasting any more time.
he pulls your legs up over his hips and lines himself up at your entrance, swiping his cock through your glistening folds a few times before sinking in with a deep groan. he falls forwards, his hands land either side of your head as the warmth of your tight cunt consumes him.
“oh fuck–that’s it. shit. so fucking tight” he presses his forehead against yours as he looks down to where your bodies meet, watching as he thrusts slowly, savouring the feeling.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling your lower half up to meet his thrusts, needing more than the gentle roll of his hips that he’s giving you.
and as if robby senses your neediness he speeds up, his hips meeting yours with a lewd slap, his balls hitting your ass on every hard thrust. he’s groaning wildly now, almost as if he’s forgotten where he is and what’s he’s doing. like he’s not fucking his son’s girlfriend in the bed that he and his wife share while they’re all outside celebrating his son’s birthday.
you’re moaning too, loud. you try and hold it back but with each thrust robby’s cock punches your cervix and pushes another loud moan out of your throat. it’s obscene, the mix of your pleasured moans and the sound of skin slapping fills the room.
“fuck, yes. fuck, you feel incredible– so fucking pretty, baby.” robby strokes the side of your face, looking deep into your eyes. you turn your face to the side and take his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it and sucking.
his hips stutter at that, “such a dirty girl, sucking on your boyfriend’s dad’s thumb while he ruins your pretty little pussy. you like that? like daddy splitting your tight little cunt open on his big cock?”
you moan around his thumb, “yes. fuck yes. love daddy’s cock stretching my little pussy. feels so fucking good, daddy. thank you”
and that’s when you hear it. the sound of the bedroom door swinging open. robby hears it to but he doesn’t stop his efforts, he’s too lost in the moment to even think about stopping.
you turn your head releasing robby’s thumb from your mouth. it’s your boyfriend, robby’s son stood in the doorway with his eyes wide and jaw practically on the floor.
you turn away immediately, burying your face in robby’s neck, robby who hasn’t even bothered to look up yet.
“i’m sorry, fuck– i’m sorry” you cry out between moans. now this is obscene, getting fucked by your boyfriend’s dad while he watches in pure horror.
“dad, what the fuck!?” he finally says, still not moving from his spot in the door.
“shit– i’m sorry son, i– oh fuck, i’m…s-sorry” robby’s pace falters. he wants to stop, knows he should, he keeps telling himself to stop but his body just won’t listen and to his deepest shame he slams into you with a couple more sloppy thrusts as his orgasm crashes through him.
your hand flies up to cover your mouth as you feel robby spill inside of you, filling you up with his thick release as his son watches on. you want to cry, shame and embarrassment washing over you in between the waves of pleasure from robby’s movements between your legs.
“you’re fucking sick, dad!” and with that he turns and leaves, no doubt running to mommy to tell her what he just saw.
robby collapses on top of you then, breathing laboured as he comes down from his high. he doesn’t say anything for a minute and neither do you. what even is there to say after that? so you just lay there with robby onto top of you, feeling like the worst person in the world.
“god, i’m so fucked” robby sighs after a minute, rolling off of you he drags his hands down his face.
“yeah..i don’t think there’s any coming back from this” you turn to face him, placing what’s supposed to be a comforting hand on his chest but it just feels stupid after everything. there’s no making this better, no fixing this.
“you think? god, he’s never going to talk to me again”
“no..probably not” you frown, nuzzling your face into his neck. he wraps an arm around you, neither of you care that the door is still open, it’s not like this situation could actually get any worse. the damage has already been done.
it’s safe to say that your relationship was pretty much over after that. you didn’t care to stay around for the fallout, you just packed your bag and got yourself a ride to a nearby hotel where you stayed until your flight home the next day.
a couple of days passed and you hadn’t heard a word from your boyfriend, not that you were surprised by that. you’re sat on your couch watching tv late at night when you hear a knock at your front door. you check the time on your phone, 3 am. you go to answer it thinking maybe your boyfriend had come home and wanted to talk about what happened but to your surprise robby is standing there on your porch, his bike helmet in one hand, a bag in his other.
you don’t say anything yet, just open the door wider to let him in. he steps in and drops his belongings on your floor. you offer your open arms for him and he falls into them almost knocking you over with his weight in the process.
“so…i take it you need a place to stay?” you huff a laugh after a long minute, it comes out sad though. you really did feel bad about blowing up robby’s whole life like that.
he takes in a deep breath before sighing, “yeah, if you’ll have me?”
you smile at that, “of course, i’d love nothing more”
he pulls away after another minute, you close the door behind him and take his hand leading him back to the couch where you resume your earlier position, though this time you have robby curled up by your side. you place your hand in his hair, stroking softly as you watch tv together like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
like this is how it was always supposed to be.
and you did it at my birthday dinner!!
this is a looooooong one! hope it’s okay! didn’t really plan how they were going to get caught or what was going to happen so i kind of just winged it, hope it was okay!! <333
also don’t ask how he knows where she lives…this is fanfiction ok it doesn’t have to make sense
want to be added to my robby taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ (taglist is tagged from another acc)
his hips stutter at that, “such a dirty girl, sucking on your boyfriend’s dad’s thumb while he ruins your pretty little pussy. you like that? like daddy splitting your tight little cunt open on his big cock?”
WOWIE WOWIEEEEEEE ur mind is incredible
the ending was soooooooo cute :(( despite him just being kicked out of his house HRJFJDJJ but like no sorry i deserve that old man more 🤷♀️
neighbor!simon riley and the mundane tasks he does to make things easier for you
when you first moved in, you were wary of the big, brute of a man that lived next door. you'd seen him, for the first time, taking his trash to the end of his driveway for the garbage truck to pick up while movers lugged boxes and furniture inside your house. he spared a single glance, offering a nod at your small wave before retreating into his house.
you thought that was that.
for weeks, you lived without any interaction. settling into your new home, coming back and forth between the hardware store and your house for new projects. taking out your trash before you go to work. you'd seen him take out his own trash once, but you watched from your window, so he never noticed.
you felt weird doing it. watching the thick muscles of his biceps flex against his filled out sleeve, dusting his veiny hands on his jeans before adjusting his balaclava. you wondered why he wore it, but you moved on. you'd likely never interact.
until a couple weeks later, you had arrived home with new groceries. a lot of them. it would take multiple trips that would make your arms ache.
you barely opened your trunk when a dark mass appaeared at your side. you gasp in surprise, head craning. damn, he was taller than you thought.
without a word, he reached in and grabbed at least ten grocery bags with ease. it didn't even seen to bother him as he carried it into your garage and to the door. he didn't struggle to open the door, inviting himself in and leaving you dumbfounded.
what the hell?
the next time his weird behavior manifested was when you were at work. you got a notification from your doorbell camera about some movement, expecting a salesperson or jehovah's witness. instead it was your neighbor—the one who's name you still don't have.
he carried a tackle box, and you were about to speak to ask what he was doing when something compelled you to just watch. he seemed to take apart something on your porch, taking and replacing a piece of the light before screwing it back. he left without a word.
when you got home, your porch lights shined brighter than before—they were dim and on the verge of burning out. why would he do that?
you wanted to confront him, but you appreciated these small things. he still appeared out of thing air to take your groceries in, leaving before you could thank him.
he even started pulling out your bin for you, sitting it at the end of the driveway and dragging it back to the garage when the truck came by.
it perplexed you. why was he doing this for you? did he do it for his other neighbors? he had to, you couldn't be that special.
so you continued living life, welcoming the small actions as they made everything easier. besides, you enjoyed the company, even if he never said a word to you or looked in your direction.
the first time you approached him was on the drive home when a light appeared on your car's dashboard. you had no clue what it meant, though you probably should've. when you arrived home, you debated taking it straight to the autoshop, but instead you tried your luck with your neighbor. he likes to help, so you're guessing he wouldn't mind.
with a soft knock to his front door, you stood waiting patiently, and wait you did. a few minutes later, you contemplated turning back because he wasn't answering the door despite being home (his car was in the driveway).
just as you turned, the front door creaked open, revealing your neighbor clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, balaclava shoved on haphazardly. his chest glistened with water as it glifed down his skin. oh fuck.
you could barely keep your eyes off his toned chest, abs flexing under your gaze before they snapped back to meet his dark ones. he lifted his brow in question.
"uh, hi." you said awkwardly, rocking on your feet. you hadn't even properly introduced yourself to the man, mostly because he disappeared so quick that you didn't have the chance. "a light came on in my car, and I was wondering—"
the door shut mid-sentence. it left you dumbfounded, mouth hanging open in shock as you stare at the door like it may open again. maybe his generous actions ended at bringing the groceries in. maybe he didn't want to get dirty after just showering. you couldn't expect the man to be ready to help any time you needed it.
after a minute of contemplation, you turned to walk back down the path. you'd have to get it to the mechanics and figured out how much it'd cost you.
when you reached the last step, the door opened again. still shirtless but now looping a belt around his jeans, he walked out, bare feet padding on the concrete. he nodded to your house, signaling you to lead.
you lead him back, hand him your keys and let him do his thing because now you get a free show. his muscles flex as he works under the hood, dirtying himself in a way that's sinful. after a while working in the hot sun, you go inside and bring back a drink, which he gratefully accepts—still without saying anything.
he's a bit weird, refusing to talk to you, but he's fixing your car so you can't complain.
"is this your official uniform to fix all your single neighbor's cars?" the words slip out before you can stop them. mortification warms your face, but it forces a deep chuckle from your neighbor, whose eyes crinkle under his mask.
he glances up at you, dirt smearing his skin. "only the pret'y ones."
your heart flutters. his voice was deep, gruff, like he smoked cigarettes, but it was satisfying to hear.
"so you do talk." you tease whilst biting back a smile. you'd finally gotten words out of him. a small victory. "what's your name?"
"simon."
"really? you look like a greg."
he shakes his head with a smile and continues working, leaving the two of you in silence. what you don't know is that simon's heart is nearly pounding out of his chest. it's beating so hard, he's worried he'll break a rib.
simon has been working up the courage to say anything to you every time he helps you, nervous as hell to talk to his pretty neighbor who he likes to help. hell go home and think about that interaction for days—or until you ask for his help again.
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