𓊆ྀི ୨୧ ˖ ࣪ . . . 6.6k. black fem!reader ◞ lowercase intended ◞ cnc ! ◞ popstar!reader + stalker!ghost, rough sex ◞ sub / dom dynamic ◞ readers just subby ◞ unprotected ◞ role play ◞ mask kink obvi ◞ size kink ◞ praise ◞ oral ꒰ f + m. ꒱ ◞ shibari ◞ manhandling ◞ dryhumping ◞ pet name usage ꒰ petal , sweetheart , doll ꒱ ◞ daddy kink ◞ choking + excessive spanking ◞ overstimulation ◞ check ins + aftercare ! . minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated <3 𓊇ྀི
꒰ 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ꒱ . . . listened to creep by radiohead while writing this so uhh, yeah. actually not super proud abt how this went but i needed it out! so, here’s some visuals for theme . <3 ‘n here’s the smut linkies > > ( ❤︎. ❤︎ ❤︎ )
it’s strange.
a glove covered hand wrapped around your throat, soon after gripping bruises into your inner thigh to keep them shoved apart. audible, rough breaths from a heavy man pushing his weight down onto you — never would you have expected your night to go this way.
you’d had your fair share of stalker stories, sure. it came with the job of being a cherished pop-star. the obsession of strangers curating parasocial relationships with people they think they fully knew. the letters, the gifts, the showing up to hotels and airports before the news could get the scoop. bombarding you with personal questions, the judging how you lived your life, and jealousy towards those whom you kept within your inner circle — or who you shared a bed with. this level of worship became senile. which is why you deserved a break.
“she’s eating boys!”
the volume of jennifer’s body surrounds your bedroom where you sat pretty at your vanity preparing for bedtime. pink, frilly panties adorned your lower halve with a short matching aeropostale top. finishing your skincare while occasionally watching the movie on your pink hp laptop that sits on your king sized bed, you yawn tiredly while spreading the jelly eye patches over your dark circles.
its a lonely night. these past few months have been nothing but work for you. writing new songs, studio hours, staying on top of gym sessions with your hard-ass personal trainer, and preparing for another tour. you had to decompress, standing stern on your choice of pausing everything to take a mental health break for at least two months. you wanted to be left alone, spend time with your family and friends even . . feel normal. it sounded mediocre to say you hated being famous and missed your boring, regular life. but it was true. the money would always be nice, but nothing came close to feeling like just a human being rather than a robot.
it’s past midnight and you were unable to sleep. eating a good meal that consisted of garlic steak bites and broccolini alongside a healthy, filing smoothie before you took an everything shower. shaving, exfoliating, even painting your toes to now doing your skincare, face glowing in milk toner and snail mucin under the soft light of your lamp illuminating the room.
your home was your safe space, always quiet, a place you couldn’t wait to come back to so you had the privilege of going completely non-verbal and straight faced without anyone questioning what was wrong or urging you to speak. it’s a big place, tucked into the top floor of a converted 1920s textile factory, it’s the perfect industrial loft, something you’ve dreamt of. it’s a cozy house you purchased and made a home from all your hard work. with its high ceilings, exposed brick walls, and oversized windows that gave anyone the opportunity to openly watch — it was serenely special.
against one exposed wall, your dream minimalist kitchen gleams with dark concrete countertops, matte black cabinetry, and open shelving lined with copper pots, ceramic mugs, and wine bottles. heading down the tall staircase that lead straight into the living room with the kitchen directly underneath your bedroom — you go to grab a small snack and something to drink. you’re opening the vintage smeg fridge in cream to search for water and your favorite granny smith apples with caramel dip. you’d have to brush your teeth again before heading to sleep.
in the corner of your eye, as you rip open the small packet of fruit, you swear you spot a shadowed figure in the crevice of your bookshelf and guest bathroom. gripping the bottle of water in your hand, you go to squint your eyes to double check and make sure you were just seeing things. you’d been up since five in the morning, running a few errands for the home like getting groceries for meal preps or cat litter for your fur baby snuggled in her corner currently by the glowing fish tank. you were tired, so you had to be seeing shit.
you turn for a moment, opening the bottle of water to take a sip, studying the area to clear your sudden fatigue.
the man is there.
watching intently, his eyes narrow as he sees you turn towards the shadowy area of the room where he stood. he’s been careful not to show himself yet, but he knows you suspect something is amiss. he feels his heart rate pick up slightly, watching as your eyes scan the room for any signs of movement. he’s torn between wanting to reveal himself and wanting to stay hidden in the shadows, observing you in your natural state. he can sense that you're feeling the creeping sensation of being watched, but he remains quiet and stationary in his spot by the entryway.
shaking it off, you go to head back up to your room to finish your movie and finally get comfy in bed. he waits until you are a few steps above the bottom floor before he starts to move swiftly. slowly and quietly, he pads across the living room, following you silently. he can already smell the sweet scent of your perfume and body wash, his senses heightened in the quiet of the night. the way your body moves in the soft light of your dim loft, flesh moving beneath the fabric of your clothing, or lack thereof. the slight bounce of your hips and ass as you ascend the stairs to leave him at the bottom. the man could feel his body reacting to your presence, needing to remain focused and following you up into your room.
he makes sure to stay far enough behind you so you don’t hear or see him. he doesn't have to worry much about making any noise, as the thick area rug covering the floor is plush under his feet and muffles his movements. he can hear the sound of the movie playing through the open door of your bedroom, and his gaze is stuck on the back of your body, the way you move and the shape of your daunting curves.
he takes a deep breath, trying to control his growing desire to grab you, to feel the softness of your skin against his own. he has to remind himself to take it slow, to play the long game. he’s waited a long time for this moment, he can’t fuck it up. he can't ruin it now by acting too soon. he’s never felt this kind of intensity before, usually good on controlling his emotions. but you were like no other. an obsession.
he hears the rustling of fabric as you make yourself comfortable in bed, adjusting the covers and getting ready to watch another movie as the credits to this one rolled. the man leans against the wall outside your room, listening to the faint sound of the movie and the occasional shifting of the bed as you move. he can feel his body getting more and more tense, the desire to touch you becoming almost unbearable.
there you lay on your side, now streaming ‘the notebook’ with one leg thrown over the top of your comforter while the rest of you is tucked under, a sanrio plushie snuggled close in your arms by your head. soundly wrapped up and unaware of the predator lurking in your home. you are precious, he ponders. roaming over your figure, he takes in the way your shirt fits snugly across your chest, panties hugging your thick hips and supple ass poking out for attention. his fists clench involuntarily. a fucking delicacy you are. the blood is rushing to his dick aggressively now, mind racing with thoughts of what to do with you.
he’s gotta do it, he has to hold you.
he couldn’t take it any longer. so, he crosses the small space between the doorway and the bed in three long strides, towering over you as you lay mindlessly in bed, nearly drifting off to sleep. you look even more beautiful up close. features calm and innocent. his breath catches in his throat subtly; he couldn’t believe how close he was to you. to breathe you in, to envelop your beauty and pheromones.
he doesn’t want to scare you. trying to ease his way into getting your attention. should he touch you first? would that scare you? or maybe he should make himself known. an introduction would only worsen the problem. he knows you, that’s all that mattered. you didn’t need to know him.
the man speaks up, voice low and gruff as he utters, “turn around, sweetheart.”
the scream that erupts from you is deadly. it’s puncturing his ear drums when you jump in your spot from the baritone of the voice in your room. in your state of panic, you’d face the intruder in your home, rolling over to the opposite side of the mattress before keeping your legs crouched on the floor. he notices how you begin to shake, not attempting to force you still in your act of horror. he wanted to be careful with you as you were too delicate to hurt. for now.
the blown pupils you have as your body trembles in full fear, eyeing the stranger in your vicinity, questioning whom he could be and how he was able to get into your secured home without you noticing. scattering around your bedside table, you quickly find a switchblade with tears in your eyes, stumbling backwards over a rocking chair before you’re hiding against the tall, sheer curtained windows, pointing your weapon in his oddly calm direction.
“look at you,” he growls, and it’s nearly animalistic, like he’s been starved of speaking to you — needing you. footsteps slowly stalking closer as he wraps around the bed. “sweet little thing like you g’na hurt me with that, eh?”
“no! s-stay away from me!” it’s loud the way you shout at him, tone shaky and body weakening to your dismay.
the urgency to escape was fighting with you, but with the way this man was built, you’d have no chance to get far. he’s tall and brooding. a skull-patterned balaclava covered his face, eyes revealed to show dark brown irises, eyelids smeared with black eyeshadow to completely hide who he was. he wore a cotton obsidian hoodie with the hood thrown over his head, a camo harness adorned on his chest. thick padded cameo army pants and heavy black boots. fingers hidden by gloves. he looked terrifying, shoulders wide and muscles grown, practically busting out the seams of his attire. when he spoke to you, his voice carried a deep, chiseled british accent that urged goosebumps to spike up on your skin.
the man watches you press back against the window, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. the moonlight catches the tears on your cheeks, making them glisten as they fall. he tilts his head slightly, studying you—how delicate you look right now, how beautifully undone.
“your shaking,” he murmurs, voice lower now—softer. not kind, never kind—but measured. controlled. “i don’t want to frighten you . . but i needed to be closer.”
your mind races as you try to make sense of his words. “w-who are you?” you manage to stammer, trying to keep your voice steady. “why are you here?”
“that’s not important right now.”
you’re too stunned to speak, eyes blown and heart pounding. you’re acutely aware of his sudden touch on your chin, the rough texture of his gloved fingers against your skin. you try to pull away, but his grip is too strong, and he only allows you room to squirm slightly.
the man lets out a soft chuckle, his grip on your chin tightening just a fraction. “don’t even think about trying to crawl away from me, sweetheart. i've got you right where i want you.”
your eyes frantically dart around the room, searching for any possible escape route, but — he's holding you, and that combined with the fact that he's positioned himself squarely in front of you, leaves you feeling utterly trapped and powerless. the anxiety you feel is tangible, but there's something else stirring in your belly as well — a strange, unwelcoming heat that spreads from the sound of his hoarse, commanding voice.
he leans in close enough for you to feel his breath on your face, gasping when he goes to grab your wrist to pry the switchblade from your shaky fingers, the metal clatters to the floor as he tosses it aside carelessly. “don’t try it, ꒰ ♥︎ ꒱.”
a gloved thumb swipes roughly across your tear-stained cheek, the crude gesture sends a shudder through your entire body, equal parts revulsion and perverse excitement. you hate yourself for it, wanting to deny the heat pooling low in your belly. defenses begin to crumble. brain scattered with wants of protest while your body betrayed you. what the fuck was happening to you? none of this should be arousing. it’s like a dark novel come true. this man could harm you, and you were turned on.
ghost leans in even closer, the heat of his body hard against you, struggling to breathe. eyes search yours, studying your reaction as he tightens his grip on your wrist ever so slightly. “i could hurt you," he murmurs. "but i won’t . . unless you make me."
the man's words send a shiver down your spine, both terrifying and thrilling. nipples harden beneath the thin shirt you wore as your core throbs with unwanted desire. you try to pry him away, but it's like trying to move a mountain — utterly futile.
"no . . ” you whimper, even as your treacherous body arches slightly into his touch. "please, i have a boyfriend. he loves me. he’ll come for me."
“hm,” ghost snickers condescendingly. “doesn’t sound much like a threat to me. from what i saw, seems like he does a piss poor job of bein’ a man. can’t even fuck you good.”
how would he know that? the question dissipates after his free hand moves up to your neck, circling the delicate column, a thumb pressing against the pulse point, the wild thrum of your heartbeat strong. "petal," he murmurs, tone low and rough. "you're terrified of me . . and yet, i can feel how much you want me."
something circuits in your brain that makes you moan the instant he pushes the outline of his dick on your stomach, cheeks flaring up with heat from the thickness of him.
“feel that?” he grinds forward. “that’s what you fuckin’ do t’me. what you’ve done to me for years.”
as if you weren’t scared before, nothing prepared you to hear that come from him. “y-years?” your mind reels trying to comprehend that. it’s haunting.
“years,” he repeats to finalize.
whimpers ensue as you writhe against him, overwhelmed by his jarring confession. tears continue to leak from the corners of your eyes as conflicting emotions war within you — fear, disgust, and shameful arousal.
"please," you beg, voice breaking in a sob. "don’t do this. i don't want this." even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your body responding differently to his touch, nipples pebbling and pussy clenching with need.
“liar," he hisses, grinding his hips harder against your midsection. "what’s this then, huh?”
then, without even giving you a moment to think, he’s sliding his fingers into your panties to touch the stickiness of arousal brewing and seeping into cotton fabric. calloused fingers brushing over your puffy clit, hips jerking and almost collapsing into his touch.
“listen to my girl,” he grits his teeth, swiping rough fingers delicately over your bud, gliding between fat lips to reach the heated opening he plunges into with gloved digits. “been a while since i heard her this wet.”
a while? no, he couldn’t have.
“it’s exactly what your thinkin’.”
fuck, who knows what else he’s seen. given his knowledge, probably everything.
he groans deeply as his fingers slip through your slick folds, coating his glove in your essence. "mhm, good ‘nuf for me to slip right in,” he taunts, thrusting knuckle-deep inside tight walls. "tight ‘lil girl you got, yeah?”
unable to stop the moan that spills from your lips, your hips buck greedily against his invading fingers. it feels wrong, so wrong, but you find yourself craving more of his touch.
"that’s it, petal," he croons, pumping his fingers faster, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside you. "take what i give you. learn how to behave.”
ghost withdraws his soaked fingers abruptly, bringing them to your lips. "open up," he commands, smearing your juices across your bottom lip. when you hesitate, he pinches your nose shut, forcing you to part your lips on a gasp. he maneuvers his coated fingers past your teeth, deep into your mouth. "clean ‘em off. get a good taste f’me.”
shuddering at the command, a mix of revulsion and desire warring in your mind. there's something in the way he's looking at you, something in his voice that makes you obey. opening up your mouth, your tongue darts out to taste your own cum off his glove. the taste is heady, a mixture of sweetness from you and leather from the material. that makes your head spin. you want him tasting it too.
he lets out a deep, guttural groan. "you’ve got a greedy little mouth, don't you doll?" he mutters. "just can't get enough of me, can you?"
with the fog in your head, you don’t even fight it when he’s lifting you off the ground and bringing you back to your mattress, tossing you like you weigh nothing at all. it all happens so quick yet he’s moving like he knows you’re not going anywhere. you wouldn’t fight it, in fact, you couldn’t. big man like him won’t allow you to. he’d have his full weight pinned on you in milliseconds. a trained soldier. there’s no fucking way he’d allow you, not when he’s waited so long for this.
before you can react, he’s on top of you—knees bracketing your hips, his stern gaze locking onto yours.
"stay still," he murmurs, voice dark with intent. his hands grab your wrists and pull them behind your back.
the rope he obtains appears from nowhere—thick, soft cord that bites just enough to remind you who’s in control. loop after loop, he ties off a shibari pattern across your chest, and arms, intricate and beautiful . . and inescapable. every tug only tightens the embrace. he’s removed your clothing so you’re nothing but bare. tying intricate knots around your backside and ankles, binding you spread-eagle on the mattress, on your knees and ass up.
a whimper sounds as the tan ropes pull taut, your body stretched apart and helpless. the position leaves you exposed—completely at his mercy. every breath makes your bound chest rise and fall, the restraints only tightening with each small movement.
ghost steps back just enough to admire his work, his dark eyes raking over every inch of you. "perfect," he grunts, voice thick with hunger. "like a fucking offering."
chin resting into the bubblegum pink duvet, you steady your breathing through your nose, fingers stretching out for a sense of control even if you knew you had none. the cold air of your apartment hits your pussy, goosebumps all over your skin from the realization that you’re fully exposed to this man. being bound by tough rope on soft skin made you feel taken. like you no longer owned yourself. you laid here, completely for his sin. there’s no point arguing, you’d given that up moments ago when your body decided to fully submit and be okay with what’s going to happen. what you wanted to happen.
the stocky man runs his now bare hands down your spine, slow and deliberate, stopping to grip one ass cheek hard before sliding lower—fingers teasing through your slick folds again. “arch deeper, move back like you want it.”
when you remain stubbornly still, he delivers a sharp smack to your still-reddened asscheek. "now, sweetheart. or i walk away and leave your pussy achy and empty."
a choked sob escapes you as the sting blooms across your skin—sharp and hot. arching instinctively, you push your hips higher into the air, presenting yourself exactly how he wants to lessen punishment, your pussy opening up like the prettiest flower.
ghost lets out a low, approving growl. "there we gooo," he purrs. “like it when they listen.”
you’re moaning helplessly as you lay spread open for the brooding man behind you in full gear. his eyes are dark, hands are huge and fingers thick as they sprawl over your backside. smoothing the round globes of your ass cheeks before he’s giving your achy pussy one good, full-palmed pat. it’s sluice and ready to be fucked open real good, dick just aching thinking about it. shifting in your spot, you wish you could ease the ache between your legs by squeezing your thighs together, but you can’t. therefore you whine and pout about it, cheek laying flat on the bed, limbs struggling.
his voice cuts through like a blade. “keep that ass up.”
ghost crawls onto the bed behind you, muscled stature pushing you firmly into the mattress. you whine and squirm, but his hand comes down hard on the back of your neck, glueing you still. he’s inherently strong — you couldn't break his grip even if you tried to. he’s been watching you for months, and knows exactly what he wants and how he needs you. the games were done.
he grinds his dick against your sore, exposed ass—fully clothed in those weighted camo pants, the rough fabric scraping over sensitive skin with every roll of his hips. the pressure is intense, maddening even. feeling every ridge of him through the layers between you, and a traitorous moan claws its way out of your throat. heaving with despair, the periwinkle of your toes curl, shoulder blades shifting as you cry out.
"shhh," he hushes near your ear, voice dark and amused. "i just w’na feel you."
you gasp as he shifts you, his hands firm and unyielding as they reposition your hips back against him. the thick ridge of his cock presses right against your aching, dripping core—still separated by layers of fabric, but so heavy.
a soft, broken moan escapes you as he grinds slowly—deliberate, torturous—with just enough aggression to make your toes wiggle and your thighs tremble. arching into the contact, you’d die to chase that forbidden friction.
"greedy lil’ thing," he murmurs into your ear, voice rough with need. "feel how hard i am for you? how bad i want to rip these clothes off ‘n bury myself deep?"
he’s molding the flesh of your ass like it’d run away. soft and bouncy, seeping through the gaps of his fingers. your wrists tug on the restraints, mouth agape as you mewl, now urging yourself to move back on it, tired of being teased. while arching your spine lower, you steadily rock the plump of your ass back onto his crotch, twiddling your acrylic nails and puffing out air from how good it felt to have your clit brush on the outline of his fat dick.
ghost makes a noise of amusement, staying still to watch you use him how you’d like. "that's it, work those hips. get yourself nice and ready for me."
a free hand goes around to rub tight circles over your throbbing bud, mesmerized by how sticky you’re getting. the sound of it audible after each clap back, ghost licking his lips at the moist spot you leave on him, string of cum connecting. “fuck, g’na fill this greedy lil’ hole up real soon, petal.”
keening high in your throat, the dual stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, gently shaking your head as you continue to whine and hit your clit right on the fattest part of him. “o—ooh, my god.”
the thick seam of his pants drags over your swollen clit in a way that’s maddening—too much and not enough all at once. your hips jerk, chasing friction, but he holds you firm. he continues to ground his hips deeper into you, his thumb coming to trace over your swollen lips you’d bitten red before sinking it into your mouth, letting you suck and drool all over it.
“good girl,” he growls, rolling his hips harder. “suck it like you want my cock instead.”
his voice is a low rumble, and he sounds so hungry. like he'd never be able to get enough of you. and you like it—being needed, being wanted. you can't deny the way he makes you feel, all weak and needy. you should be scared. he is dangerous, he's big and gruff, but when he looks at you like that, you just feel safe.
he thrusts harder now, gripping your ass and thwacking it roughly, pretty brown skin hot from his palms that are covered in veins, tattoos, and scars. accent so heavy it makes you wetter with each word he speaks. “just focus on my voice, let me see tha’ pretty face.”
his hand tightens on your hip, fingers digging deep as he watches your face—every flutter of your lashes, every desperate breath. he’s savoring this. savoring you.
“stay right there,” ghost grits, grounding the imprint of his dick onto your sluice clit at just the perfect angle.
"don’t move," he growls, voice strained. "not unless i say."
“i w’na cum so bad,” you whine with tear stained cheeks and nearly a snotty nose, feet kicking and body aching from the angle you’re positioned in.
"you want to what, doll?" he asks, almost mocking. his thumb hooks further into your mouth, the imprint of it showing in your cheek. you’re slobbering over it, sucking up your saliva and moaning loud. he wants you to say it. “use your words. say that name.”
“i w’na cum so bad, sir!”
a satisfied hum rumbles from his chest at the word. the submission, the desperation in your voice. he could lose it, hands digging harder into soft flesh.
"yeah," he breathes, lips curling into a dark smile. "cum all over m’fuckin’ clothes f’me.”
he’s rough and demanding, but you love it. he’s everything you should be terrified of—but it just makes you want him more. you need it. you crave it. you’re desperate to please him now, to be good in his eyes. you want to show him you’re worthy of being fucked by him. shivering as he whispers the words, a sudden pang of heat shoots through you from the depravity of his request. he's so obviously in charge right now, and you'd do anything to be worthy of praise.
"please," you whisper, voice pleading. "please, sir. i—i want you. i need you. i’m good. i’m . . i’m —"
"you’re what, sweetheart?" he asks, voice low. he’s still got you pinned, but his touch is soft as he reaches up to brush back a plethora of hair covering your dolled features. his expression looks almost tender. "talk to me. you got it.”
"i’m your good girl," you breathe, the words rushing out of you. "yours to use."
your cheeks flush with heat as he studies you, head cocked to the side in awe. and it’s as if your own words make you cum, stomach coiling as you breathlessly moan and rock back on him — so silent but visibly loud. ghost takes your waist and helps you keep your pace up. “nngh, baby. right. there.”
ghost hums, low and satisfied as he runs a hand up your spine after removing his thumb from your mouth. he begins to unzip his pants, unlatching his palm from the back of your neck and relieving his hefty dick out to rest on your pussy, precum just oozing out of the burly head. he takes the base — stout with a thick vein leading up to coarse hairs matted on his groin — to push out some precum leaking at the tip.
he’s got hair on his husky stomach, mostly on the middle area leading up to his chest. he’s heavily built, it was clear with clothing on. now that he’s pulled off the hood on his head, stepped out of his cargo’s — he’s got the hoodie hiked up to his midsection, smelling like bourbon and cigars on a saturday night mixed with cedar. all of him is shown in the mirror directly facing your bed, pussy clenching from the view you’d gotten. he looked rugged, completely out-sizing you by a ton. a dirty, older man aching to be inside you. you wished you could see his face. get the whole experience.
“you want it, doll? want me to take what's mine?"
scalding, beefy hands find their way back to your ass, slamming down both palms repeatedly and pushing only the tip inside you to hear you gasp. every smack leaves you creamy, sobbing and grinding back as much as you could. gripping and yanking at your skin, swatting and repeating — he’s enthralled . “fuckin’ sweet ass you got, yeah?”
he could’ve sworn he saw you smirk amidst the brutality of his strikes. pussy full on soppy and dripping between plush thighs. it deserved a good taste, thinking about it for a while now. you clench from the sudden emptiness you feel when he leaves you, ghost standing up by the side of the bed to unravel the ropes from your ankles, deciding to pull your arms below the backs of your thighs and wrapping them together with your feet. he always takes his time with it, being delicate as you breathe in the silence, keening from a few touches he’d leave close to your pussy.
now your knees are to your chest, arms bound tightly behind yourself with rope harsh on your skin. thighs pressed together now easing the pressure on your clit. you plant your palms flat on the backs of your thighs, nails scraping your own skin out of sudden shock when you feel his hot mouth swallowing your pussy wetly. lifted up his mask to get his face buried in it, arched over you with a fat tongue thrumming on your achy nub while his lips sloppily encase you. saliva drips from his mouth down to your arms, stuttering out a mewl mixed with heady gasps, eyes slicking white.
“g-god, daddy — fuck!” crying out, you unintentionally move your hips which has you nearly rolling off the side of the bed, ghost catching you with a grunt before he’s repositioning you aggressively, his head spinning off the tart taste of you on his palate. you try to move away, the pleasure too intense.
“unh uh, don’t you fuckin’ run now. gimme those hips,” he grumbled, starved as he spanks you hard and yanks your hips back, holding them tight on either side with his dick jumping against your stomach as he sucks you up and all your giving him.
at this point you’re drooling, eyes descending to the back of your skull as you take every full-tongued lick, stomach twisting as you listen to how greedy he eats it, slurps it, beats it with fingers now to keep you open enough to take him — deep, ragged growls and hot swats on your ass. you cum, right then and there, and it knocks the air from your throat.
“c'mon doll, cum for me. let go."
“unngh, m’god — mmmnh!.”
you’re groaning out your noises, the intensity of it making your entire body tremble, humming and gyrating your hips out of frenzy. it’s too much, but it feels so good.
“yess, fuckin’ good girl. cum harder lil’ girl. want you full on creamy.”
fingers continue to shake and plunge inside you, your stomach folding inwards from his relentless hunger, eyes still turned out and mouth faltered with drool dribbling. “s-simonnn!” the wall of fantasy breaks and you can’t fucking think anymore, going into subspace and full on sobbing now, endorphins high and brain mushy. hiccuped screams bellowing out the quicker he finger fucks you. cum coating up to his knuckles before pulling them out and rubbing at your bud with all four fingers.
“i know pretty girl, i know, i know. doin’ so good.”
the sudden emptiness makes you clench for him to come back, the stimulation on your juicy clit causes you to sputter out little drops of liquid. it’s so pretty as he stares, watching in awe while you struggle to move, dampening the sheets.
then, his voice cuts through the haze, low and sharp. “look at me, ꒰ ♥︎ ꒱.”
doe eyes flutter open, glassy and unfocused. his face is hard in the dim light—jaw tight, pupils blown wide with lust. "did you cum too hard?" he checks in, your eyes drooped and face pouty like there’s nothing in your head. "hm, baby? answer. what’s your name?"
“꒰ ♥︎ ꒱,” you smile weakly. “and you’re simon.”
“yeah, i am,” he chuckles, caressing your cheek with a curled finger. “pretty thing, petal. pussy jus’ as sweet as you.”
“can you fuck my pussy, daddy?” you moan, batting lashes and biting swollen lips, still needing him. what he does to you can never be explained. “wan’ it.”
simon’s eyes say it all even if you couldn’t see his face. eyes darkening and remaining silent as he moves you around the bed, dick still standing hard.
he’d gotten a bit nicer to you by untying the ropes from your ankles so you’d have the ability to fully stretch and move your lower body. you sigh thankfully, doing side by side twists to crack your achy parts. simon holds on to you with fondness, this moment feeling intimate as he massages your waist and back.
“if you can’t take it anymore, you tell me, okay?” simon makes sure he’s stern on that as he aligns his dick with your opening, grabbing your ass and bringing you down on his dick from where he now lays underneath you.
“mhm,” nodding drunkenly, you melt into his touch as he holds you up by your shoulders, gasping as you split yourself open down on his dick ever so slowly, taking your time. it’s immediate when you moan together, simon’s eyes daunting under dark makeup, bushy brows furrowed and sharp hips rising up to meet you halfway with a weighty dick kissing you open.
“fuckin’ hell — yeah,” simon hisses, seeing the outline of his mouth fall open beneath his mask. you go to reach for it, pulling it up just enough to attach your lips for a kiss, missing it.
he chose to stay in character for you, even if you were the one to break first. darting out your tongue, you glide yours along his passionately slow, simon swatting your ass with a quick hand release before raising his hips to fuck up into you. your nails dig into your palms, arms still bound as you hold your mouth open on his to breathe and focus on how good he felt stretching you and fucking all the neediness away. you try your best to fuck him, too. wanting to give back to him as much as he’s given you.
“uh-huh, take it all in, swallow it up with your cunt,” simon exhales raggedly, your ass clapping down on his thighs faintly, though it’s not enough.
blurry eyes and shaky thighs not an excuse to him. giving him small rise and falls didn’t cut it.
“c’mon, c’mon. i don’t give a fuck,” simon grunts when you halt your bouncing, cracking a hand on your ass again. you’d surely have a welt tomorrow morning.
“ooo, baby, i’m g’na cum again!” you weep, tits bouncing in his face he goes to latch his mouth on to, sucking and pulling with hunger. you take every greedy, rough pound he gives to coax you into a proper fuck.
“not yet, you hold it till i get there. cummin’ all night, petal. gotta give some pussy to me, yeah? got s’much nut to give you.”
“i want your nut,” the sentence is slurred, simon holding your upper halve still so you wouldn’t fall while he applies a bit of force to drop you harder on his dick. “i want it, daddy.”
“want it where?” he grits, your ass now slamming down on his muscular thighs, wetness coating his groin, scooting your pussy on him to feel it hit that spot in you mixed with his pubic hairs brushing along your clit. “oh, fuck baby.”
“i w’na taste it,” whining, you lose yourself in grinding as you slouch lower, getting his dick in just the right angle to make you both feel good. simon chokes, holding his breath with a grunt, scooting your hips faster back and forth, back and forth.
“get it to the back of that needy throat?”
“yess, want it so bad, pleasepleaseplease.”
neither of you could control it. he’s growling like a feral animal while you whine and whimper like a broken toy. every push and pull drags you both out of mind.
“cum on it,” the baritone of his voice gets louder, wrapping a large forearm over your waist before slightly sitting up, spanking you and gripping your ass to lift up so he’s got enough room to sink deeper. his chest rises and falls, hitting his dick up to catch your rhythm. “ugh, fuck, fuck. cum onnit. fuckin’ cum on this big dick, baby.”
simon’s wheezing, the snag of your pussy knocking the fucking wind out of him, finding it difficult to catch a breath in this mask. he holds it just for you, so he can cum down your throat just like you want. he’s always g’na give you what you want. simon’s body is stiff as he keeps his composure, kissing you sloppy as you gush on his dick and fall weak, screaming into his neck where your face falls and you can’t stop from crying and swiveling your waist.
he doesn’t even bother telling you, lifting you up and laying you on the bed where your head hangs off the edge, simon’s bulky thighs on either side of your dizzy head as he fists his dick to shove it down your throat, bursting in a load of cum with the loudest, filthiest growl you’d ever heard. like a goddamn animal. his palm clutches your throat, thrusting deliberately slow to feel himself inside it.
“drink it, baby,” he hums, eyes rolled back and hips unable to stop moving. “fuck yes, all of it.”
and you do, every last drop. lips tight and cheeks sucked in as you clean him up well, simon patting your cheek as a reminder that you did a good job after he shifts back, dick taking it’s time going limp over your face as he calms himself.
“c’mere, doll.”
simon lifts you up in strong arms, yanking the balaclava off of his face showing disheveled brunette strands stuck to his forehead, kissing yours and taking you to the bathroom. he runs a nice, hot bath for you with bubbles and candles. makes sure he rubs you down good with shea butter so you wouldn’t scar anywhere, especially in areas where he found the rope to be too tight on your flesh. apologizing for it.
putting on sweats and a regular black tee, he’s grabbing his keys after you got comfy in bed, running out to get breakfast for you both while you rested off what you endured, dawn peaking through the curtains without both of your realization. he’d rest with you when he got back.
i think it's beautiful how life gives you infinite chances to experience better. just when you think you'll never find better, you walk right into better and your heart softens again.
Big brother!simon doesn’t mind the thought of having a baby with you.
cw: 18+ mdni, heavy fauxcest (big brother!Simon), breeding k!nk.
Actually, he’s imagined it since the first time the cockhead of his aching red cock touched your fat glistening pussy lips through the 1.0 condom preventing him from really feeling the ridges of your gummy walls. He’s thought about how pretty you’d look with heavy tits and his baby floating around in your womb. The idea of your belly being wider than the palm of his hand, the way your skin would glow because of how good he’d take care of you while you’re pregnant.
Thought about how pretty you’d look with his cum leaking onto the damn mattress glob for glob, clammy skin and brown eyes gazed over. Curls every which way, your walls still clamping down around him begging for more— not that he hasn’t done it now.
But he hasn’t really bred you. Hasn’t forced your legs above his shoulders and pounded into you till his legs are shaking, balls pressed flat against your juicy asscheeks while he fills your cervix to the brim. Squeezed your thighs while he wraps your tongue around yours, your skin clap, clap, clapping against each other everytime he bottoms out. Kept you in bed, yout legs too damn wobbly to even limp out of bed. Fucked each other into delerioum till he knows that period will get missed the next time it comes around. Till your Pearl is used and abused and your crying so he fucking you on your side, slow, kneading your breasts that’ll be full of milk one day for your kid. Licking your earlobe and sucking it as his top massages yout sweet spot so lovingly- so damn rudely you’re letting out mewls and only know the word ‘Simon, Simon, Simon’—
“Simon!” You nudge him with your elbow, you scuff out a laugh, “Not even listening to me, are you?” You’re too pretty, too sexy just holding your cousins baby in your arms, looking at him to see how he’s reacting to the adorable bundle of joy in your arms. “They said he’d be walking soon, he was just born! Isn’t that crazy Si?”
Simon lets his eyes wander down your face, the hills of your breasts, to your hips in the skit yout wearing, then to the baby who’s chewing at his fist, looking up at the both of you like a cabbage patch doll. Not a care in the world. Too good for this world.
“Just thought, you’d have a really cute baby swee’art.” He leans back on the couch, hand going around the back of your neck and caressing your nape with his thumb.
You roll your eyes, attention back to the baby you were holding, bouncing him on your knee and cooing, “I want a really chunky baby like you, gorgeous! Yes I do! Yes I do!”
Yeah and Simon would give it do you.
Anyone who saw that longing, the greed, low eyed look Simon had in his blue eyes could see that.
Even the guy your cousin tried to set you up with, could see that.
a/n: couldnt go a full 72 hours without writing some type of fauxcest. This was supposed to be a one liner at that.
𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ♡ ⁺⑅ pervyprofessor Simon Ghost Riley! (dubious con )
warnings: +18 dubious con!, smut, obvi meanie simon, teacher/student relationship, they get nasty in the classroom, oral (reader receives), doggy, power imbalance
was it you—or was professor riley always staring at you?
he’s shameless with it too, taking any and every opportunity to rake his pale irises over your frame.
your fingers gripped the plastic edge of your seat uncomfortably as you stared down at the midterm test you’re currently taking. you bit your bottom lip in unease, this test was hard. but his staring was only adding additional discomfort.
when you glance up at him, he’s sitting on the edge of his large wooden desk.
the tip of his pink tongue swiping across his lip slowly as he stares at you. you shiver in your seat from his gesture.
how is no one else seeing this?
the more you look at him, he shifted his weight from one leg to another. his gaze flickering from your face to the swell of your breasts outlined by your top.
his hand moving to adjust his bulge nonchalantly.
your eyes flicker down to your paper instantly as you moved to grip your pencil. this situation is growing more distracting by the week. and his advances are only worsening. you struggled to recall which formula you were meant to use to solve this equation.
and just as you start to write down some of the formula so you can finish this test—you feel a presence over your shoulder. glancing at your work.
you could smell the scent of clean laundry as he hovered over your shoulder closely.
“make sure to use the pythagorean theorem, baby” he whispers into your ear.
a large hand massaging your shoulder for a second before pulling away. ‘baby?’ you repeated in your head while watching him walk back to his desk. he doesn’t even pretend to care about the other students work. just brushing past every desk like you’re the only student in the room.
taking his unsolicited, but very needed, advice you work on the problems while the clock ticks away on the wall.
you make an effort not to look up again in fear that you’ll catch him staring like he always is. other students begin to get up and put their completed tests on his desk before returning to their seats quietly.
you keep working and revising your equations until you’re at least somewhat satisfied.
you blow a low breath of relief from your pursued lips as you can feel you’re anxiety easing off. you sit calmly before glancing around the room, noticing that your classmates have been getting up to give professor riley their tests.
taking an uneasy breath, you stand and grab your paper. dodging other testers as you walk to him.
“all done?” he asks in an even tone.
you nod, keeping your gaze low as you wait for him to take the paper from you. you can hear his huff of disapproval? disappointment? as he snatches the paper from your hand.
“i’ll take a look at it”.
you turn and walk back to your seat slowly. looking over your shoulder at him briefly to notice him still holding your paper, but his eyes focused on your ass as you walk away.
your face tightening in shyness as you hurry to sit back down. professor riley flips your paper over to look at the work you did on the back. you were feeling pretty confident about your work. it definitely isn’t perfect, but you knew, that you at least scored over an 80%.
you watch as his facial expression flattens again as he holds your paper in hand still.
“alrigh’, yer all free to go”
he says unenthusiastically as he watches everyone get up from their seats. small chatter littering the room as everyone grabs their belongings and slowly walk out.
you follow the crowd as you try to hurriedly make your escape from the room.
“[+], come over ere’ baby” professor riley beckons you like a lover.
freezing in your steps you look around the room, as the other students just keep on chatting to one another. it’s like no one else heard that but you. finally, you glance at him as you stand behind your desk in anticipation.
flexing two fingers, he gestures for you to come to him.
“i don’ bite” he jeers as you walk over to him.
you two are the only ones left in the classroom at this point. all of the other students being long gone to their next class or leaving campus. you hadn’t made any friends yet either, so you knew that no one was going to be waiting up for you.
holding your paper in hand, he just stares at you.
“mmh” he hums in approval at you.
“yes sir, what is it?” you say calmly while clasping your hands together in front of you.
he stands up straight as he takes a long—condescending —breath. as if it just pains him endlessly to utter the next words he will speak.
“ere’s tha’ thing baby, test’s no good” he grumbles as he watches your face.
his eyes searching your face for the reaction he is oh so desperate for. you couldn’t contain your confusion as you tilt your head and look at him. “what do you mean?” you ask with a hint of attitude. you were struggling to compute what’s going on, was he suggesting that only your work is unsatisfactory?
“means tha’ you failed, [+]” he says nonchalantly as if that information even makes any sense.
“w-w-what—“ you stutter as you blink. “you didn’t even grade the papers yet! how can you say i failed?”.
professor riley only shrugs as he places the test down on his desk and looks to you again. his tatted arm resting on the desk calmly. “don’ need to grade it” he says with a small yawn, clearly having no interest in clarifying this for you.
your palms grow sweaty at the sound of that.
was he sabotaging your grades?
“professor, you can’t-“ you begin before one of his calloused palms brush against your waist. not venturing too low, just hovering over your waist softly as he looks down at you.
“-actually i can, and call me simon” he interrupts calmly as his eyes watch your facial expressions. gauging your reaction with precision. a skill he picked up in his old days in the field. apparently, a cat’s gotten your tongue all of a sudden. at a lost for words, you just stand still, clenching your palms softly to steady yourself.
“…simon, please” you say softly.
professor riley looks at you with faux symphony as he settles down on the edge of his desk like he usually does. manspreading as he crosses his arms over his wide chest. the buttons on his button-up straining from his biceps flexing,
“tsk tsk—what a problem, eh?” he says lowly.
your eyes squint in displeasure from his teasing. after all, this was an issue he’s creating. before you speak again, his hand slides down from your waist to the fat of your ass. squeezing it softly while watching your face.
“professor!” you squeak at the feeling.
a small grin stretches across his face as he squeezes your ass again. “go an’ lock tha door, baby. bet we can work somethin’ out where everyone leaves happy”.
he slaps your ass as you turn to go and lock the classroom door.
your heart is racing away in your chest as you spin the lock on the large wooden door. there’s no turning back now as you close the curtain on the door’s window that shows the hallway. when you turn back around, you see him watching you intensely with want.
“know ow’ long i’ve been waitin’ to get a taste of you?”
he chuckles lowly and shakes his head at the thought. you stand frozen, a few steps away from him as he starts to undo the buttons on his black dress shirt. when it’s open, you can see his bare chest. revealing some tattoos on his shoulder that connect to the ones on his arm.
the most enrapturing part being the scars.
a plethora of scars dance across his skin. jagged and messy ones that indicate the kind of life he’s lived.
“was a lieutenant”, he answers before you can ask.
he pats his thigh gently, letting you know to come over to him. taking a deep breath you walk over to him with your heartbeat pattering away in your ears.
sitting shirtless on his desk, his hand wraps around your throat when you reach him. tugging you to stand between his thick legs.
you breath hitching in your chest when you feel him lightly squeeze it. “m’ gonna eat your pussy, baby”.
rising from his spot on the desk, he switches places with you and turns you around. pressing his hand to the back of your neck and making your hands flail out to brace yourself on the desk. he lets out a grunt as he looks down at your ass again.
“look at this fuckin’ body” he mutters to himself.
slotting his hips against your ass before grinding his hips against you. “simon!” you squeak as you feel him pressing down on your neck.
making you lie flat on his desk and on top of the test papers he just collected.
you could feel his thick bulge on your ass as he continued rolling his hips. his hands dipping underneath the waist of your pants to tug them down. letting them drop to the floor as he looks down at you laying on his desk.
“been dreamin’ of this” he admits as he curls a finger beneath your panties. tugging so hard that he tears them clean off your body.
you gasp in surprise when you hear the tear.
“but-“ you start up before getting silenced immediately by him slapping your ass. “quiet” he demands in that strict teacher voice he often speaks in. you bite your tongue as he moves to him knees, letting himself get face to face with your puffy and wet clit.
he whistles at the view,
“cunny so wet f’me”, taking one of his large hands to slap your clit. you tense immediately at the motion, your legs shifting to close automatically. professor riley tsks annoyed before shoving your thighs apart again.
“stop tha’ shit” he curses as he spreads your ass with his hands.
his nose tickling your hole as he slips his hot tongue against your pussy.
“ah!” you moan instantly at the feeling. his tongue slipping against your wetness as he slurps up the juices in between your lips. he keeps your ass spread with his hands as he moves his head up to lick at your hole there. making your hands grip his desk tightly.
he teases you with his tongue in the area. making your back arch up in response to the feeling. “s-simon fuck” you whine which makes him smile.
a heavy hand landing on your ass before he goes to make out with your clit again. placing his mouth around your little nub and slurping. the desk getting covered in your wetness as you just lie there and take it.
“shoo- fucking good” you moan thoughtlessly as you get your pussy eaten.
“love having my tongue on this nasty little cunt” he says mockingly as he pumps his tongue inside of your hole. you go cross eyed at the feeling of it. being reduced to nothing more then a moaning mess.
“tha’s it” he encourages before resuming his ministrations. you start to shift your hips back, trying to make his tongue go deeper when he starts to hold your hips down to stop you. his wet pink lips glimmering under the classroom lights as he stands up.
you look back, over your shoulder at him as he smirks. “yer gonna cum on my cock”, he says flatly.
his large hands moving to unbuckle his belt. you keep watching him, as you listen to the jingle of his belt. he grasps at his bulge again, releasing a groan before tugging his pants down. you stare at his cock with desire. tilting your head to get a better view of his raspberry red tip.
“so hard fer you, it hurts” he sighs before moving the head of his cock to your pussy.
rubbing the tip against your warm hole, making him hiss. he slips the tip in, slowly rocking his hips in until he gets further inside of you. you swear you feel the soft push of his head against something in your lower belly.
your eyes tearing up at the feeling,
“takin’ it like a champ”
he encourages while pressing a hand on the back of your head to keep you arched. you clench on him deliciously as the feeling of your professor inside of you is addictive. the base of his cock growing a ring of your mixed juices.
your face smooshed against his cool desk as you gasp, “simon! it’s so big” you moan.
his hands slip to your hips as he starts yanking you back on his cock. making you take it to the base and then back to the tip repeatedly.
“lovin this shit, eh?”
he’s completely satisfied in this moment. overall, just pleased with his plan going well to get you in this position. you are his favorite student after all—his favorite girl.
the class filled with the sound of wet,
plap! plap! plap!
your walls pulsing around him nastily as you get closer. he knew you were gettin close, the rough pads of his fingers slipping beneath your belly to your clit. rubbing firm circles on the slick area, and making your screech.
warnings: +18 meaniesimon!, teasing, reader gets shy, they get nasty to celebrate him coming home from deployment, smut
simon has you on your back.
Your legs are pressed up to your shoulders in a mean mating press. he’s on his knees between your thighs. the moonlight illuminates both of you on the fluffy rug on the floor through the living room window.
you didn’t even make it to the bedroom.
the second he came home and opened the front door, his heavy gaze landed on you. you were lying on the couch, watching trash tv like you do every evening when he’s out at work.
he slipped off his shoes, dropped his duffle and took some steps towards you on the couch.
which landed you both here.
“fuckin ell’ baby, this pussy’s so fuckin pretty” he praised as he taps the strawberry red tip of his cock against your glistening clit.
you were already so wet just from his touches. and he was sickeningly hard, he was breathing heavy just from feeling your wetness stick to him.
“look at us kissin’ baby”
you leaned your neck up a bit to see him rubbing the tip of his cock on your clit in circular motions. clearly taking pleasure in this as a string of his pre cum connected you two each time he taps against you.
“mmh- fuck, so wet for you” you gush shyly looking at how nasty you two were being.
“been waiting all day for this pussy. hardly could wait to get ere” he grumbles as he stares at your pussy in awe. almost as if he couldn’t believe he was really here. your pussy was truly a dream come true to him, and he wanted nothing more than to savor this moment.
you relax into the soft rug as you look up at him. he looks so blissed out and he didn’t even slide in yet.
his normally blank face contorted in an expression of desire as he rubs his tip on your clit repeatedly. letting it mess with the bundle of nerves there before dragging it lower between your pussy lips and letting it catch on your clenching hole. 
“i think m’ mad at ya” he huffs.
easing the head in softly and then pulling back out again. you squeal softly at the brief intrusion. looking at his face as he breathes lowly through his mouth.
“why si?” you ask.
“kept this away from me. should’ve known i would lose my mind without this while on deployment” he groans as if the memories pain him.
“got into some squabbles with the lads, been on edge lately, aven’t been myself… cause’ i been needing this” simon admits lowly while slipping the head in completely this time. sinking lower and lower until he’s half way in and your quivering on the floor trying to steady yourself.
he pulls all the way out again, and goes back to “kissin” your clit with the head of his dick.
you groan miserably at him at from this. his scarred face only twisting into a mischievous smirk from your reaction. “see ow it feels? doesn’t feel good does it sweetheart?” he says flatly as he holds his painfully hard cock.
“m’sorry si” you say softly while batting your lashes. knowing exactly which tone to use to have your way with him. it works every time.
he looks at your faux innocent expression. half of him knows it’s a ploy to get your way, but the other half just doesn’t care and wants to give in to your every whim. and like always, he succumbs to his better nature when it comes to you.
“it’s ok baby—know you didn’t mean to” he lets out a relaxing sigh as he lets the head catch on your warm hole again.
“you’re gonna make it up to me right?” he tilts his head as he looks at you with a blank face, although his eyes are lighted with a cheeky glint.
“…how?” you ask as your heartbeats pick up.
simon leans down over you now, one hand bracing over your shoulder as he uses the other to pull your leg over his shoulder. your lower lip jutting out in a pout instantly as you can tell what kind of night it’s gonna be.
his shoulder shake in a small chuckle, “don’t pout now baby. thought you said you wanted to make me feel better?” he says patronizingly.
he doesn’t wait for an answer as he goes ahead to slip his cock in you. you both gasping in relief as he moves his hips until his balls hit your ass. he leans down over you, his hand gripping the rug over your head as he starts to slowly thrust in you.
his nostrils flaring as he works up to a good pace.
the living room filled with the sounds of your activities. wet squelching noises from him plowing into you and loud—
plap! plap! plap!
noises from your skin slapping constantly. “ah! si!” you moan as you hold his shoulder. enjoying the motions as you relax into this situation. the rug beneath you two growing a wet spot from your juices splashing around.
“what baby? wan’ some kisses?” he looks down at your lips. hinting to you that he wants to kiss you too.
you nod at the idea immediately, knowing that his kisses always take you to a giddy head space. simon just smirks and leans down, going belly to belly with you and forcing your leg back more. you lean up for kisses, but he pulls his mouth away just far enough that you can’t reach him with his weight on you.
“wha-“ you begin when he slowly pulls out.
you watch as he goes to tap the head of his cock on your clit on again, “softest lips i ever felt baby” he smirks looking at your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ♡ ⁺⑅ pervyjanitor Simon Ghost Riley! (dubious con )
warnings: +18 dubious con, finger fun, they get nasty in a supply closet, smut, reader receives oral
simon who's the janitor at the public library you frequent. always keeping his head down and focusing on the task at hand. whether it be mopping, sweeping, cleaning desks, or rearranging chairs, he never interacted with any of the library goers—until you.
"hi! can i get a library card, please?" you spoke ever so sweetly to the older librarian at the front desk.
simon's eyes glanced over at you as he heard your voice, you're new. this library has only a few customers who frequently stop in. students, elderly, or just those stopping in to find a specific book. but you—
you were gorgeous. his heavy gaze raking over your frame appreciatively. even pausing his mopping as he just turned to glance at your back.
"thank you so much" you exclaimed sweetly as you waited on your new library card to be made. you were feeling something strange—heavy—weighing on your back. making the hairs on the back of your neck prick up. thoughtlessly, you turn around to see what it is causing this feeling.
then you locked eyes with him, his blonde lashes focused on you with a blank face, almost as if he didnt think you’d notice him at all.
you were stuck for a moment, not yet being ready to turn away as you both stared at eachother. simon could feel his heart racing away in his chest, a feeling uncommon in his typically bleak and melancholy life. his scarred hands gripping the mop just a bit tighter as he stared shamelessly.
"hey" you say softly to him as he went on perusing your frame. his eyes drifting from your frame to your hips.
briefly, the tip of his pink tongue bared as he licked his bottom lip in arousal. you two staring at eachother wordlessly as simon decided he had to have you.
the old librarian grabbing your attention as she placed your new library card on the desk. "here you are, enjoy". she spoke nicely, oblivious to the silent exchange that just occured between you and the janitor.
you thanked her, turning back around to look for him. but he was gone.
walking over to a small couch in the back of the library, you placed your things down before walking off to explore some of the shelves. the library was empty, giving you ample opportunity to check out of the shelves. you walked over to the mystery area, glancing at some of the books on the shelf.
simon watched as you grabbed a book, standing two rows behind you as he glanced through the shelves. he could feel himself getting hard just from looking at you.
his eyes practically glazing over in lust when he saw you bend over to reach for a book on one of the low shelves. he had to lure you in, wanted to be close to you. he thought quickly as he chose to knock a book off of its shelf.
thud!
you turned around instantly after hearing the loud sound. "what-" you mumbled in confusion as you noticed that there is no one in any of the rows behind you.
pursuing the noise you walked with your newfound book in hand as you headed two rows behind you where you heard the book fall. kneeling over, you snatch the book off the ground. wondering how it could just fall randomly.
suddenly,
a hand slips over your mouth, making your eyes widen fearfully as you feel yourself being tugged backward against a firm chest. you wiggle resistively to no avail as the person just drags you backward and into a supply closet of sorts?
you could smell the sweet scent of cleaning supplies instantly upon entry. the dark closet does nothing to calm your nerves as you strain your eyes to see who dragged you in here. you hear a click, a buzzing yellow light bulb hanging above you and your perpetrator in the small room.
it was him, the janitor. you open up your mouth to confront him but he stops you just by slapping his warm palm over your mouth again.
"here's how its gonna be, yer gonna listen t'me. y'hear me?". his gravelly voice coming out roughly like he doesnt speak that much. his firm tone making it clear that you didn't have any other choices here. your mind travelling to the only other person in this building, which is the old lady at the front desk.
"why're you doi-" you mumbled behind his palm as he just stared down at you. his eyes raking over your form again.
"aven't seen a girl like you in a long time. not letting you go until i've had my fill" he answers your unfinished question before tugging the bottom of his mask up to kiss you. his soft pink lips landing on yours as you melted into the kiss. placing one of his large hands on your hips to pull you against his chest.
"look at tha', not even puttiin up a fight. must've been wishing for this t'appen" he chuckled lowly after pulling away from the kiss.
you pressing a hand against his chest as you look up at his heated gaze. simon wastes no time as he goes to pull on the bottom of your top, tugging it up and over your head before you can even think. you let him, as you adjust to the situation.
wasting no time, he tugs on your leggings, tugging them down and off each leg like he was on a timer.
“fucking hell, look at you”
simon’s pupils dilating in complete pleasure at the site of you in just your underwear. reaching a hand down to the front of his black janitor cargos to adjust his hard on.
“fuck, please let me touch you” he eyebrows furrow as he stares at you intently.
his eyes struggling to focus as he visually devours you.
“…yes” you acquiesce,
growing wetter by the second as you stand before him. simon cracked a smile as he unzipped the janitorial jumpsuit he was wearing. the keys and rags attached shaking as he got out of the outfit.
it was your turn to appreciate him as you looked him up and down. you couldn’t even contain your blush at the site. sure, he was scarred. healed slashes, bruises covered by ink, and marks that looked possibly older then you—but he was hot.
“c’mere” pulling your arm gently as he tugged you closer to him.
running a rough palm against your cheek as he leaned down for yet another nasty kiss. his hot tongue slipping into your mouth as he dominated the kiss. his hand slipping down to your throat as he somehow backed you up against the cool closet wall.
“ve’ been waitin so long for a girl like you” he mumbled into the kiss.
you kiss back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. his free hand slipping down to the front of your panties. excitedly slipping the whole hand in, to touch your wet clit.
you both gasped at the feeling.
“yer gonna make me lose my mind” he grunted as he feels how wet you are from this situation. he swirls two fingers around on your clit softly while looking in your eyes.
leaning your head back against the wall, your eyes flutter close in bliss. the rough pads of his fingers coaxing you to an orgasm rapidly.
“yea that’s it, girl. just feel me” simon rocked his fingers consistently. his mouth lowering to kiss and nibble on your lip and neck as you moaned.
your hands gripping his shoulders as you squeaked in pleasure. “fuckin love how this pussy feels, maybe i should taste hm?” he teases as he rubs you.
using a finger to slip inside of you now as he watches your body’s reactions.
you were choking on your own breath a bit as you felt him quicken the pace. “mmh fuck” you squealed as he kept going. taking a hand to slap your clit now.
“not stopping til’ this pussy cums for me, ya hearin me?” he states calmly while bending to his knees to lean in and kiss your little pearl. his lips glistening with your juices as he looks up at you with a glint in his gaze.
that was it, you wouldn’t last any longer.
your stomach tightening and toes curling as your little pussy clenched repeatedly on his finger. simon licking and sucking on your clit as you came.
making you place a hand on his head to try and slow him down. the pushes only making him chuckle.
knock! knock!
you both freeze at you two knocking noises on the closet door. simon not moving from his spot on his knees, with you standing above him with a leg on his shoulder.
“simon dear, can you take that sweet girl on a date instead of screwing her in the supply closet?”. you two hear the older librarian who helped you at the front desk on the other side of the door.
um guys, I think we need to stop waiting for ‘the right time’ and just start doing the things we want whenever because the right time’s never gonna come, and if we keep waiting it’s just gonna turn into an endless cycle
um guys, I think we need to stop waiting for ‘the right time’ and just start doing the things we want whenever because the right time’s never gonna come, and if we keep waiting it’s just gonna turn into an endless cycle
discoholicmusic
izzy806
janainaart
tangentwithtanner
titsay
