Id usually not beg on the Internet for money but I don't have any other options right now.
So I'm actually cursed and I'd like some help. I just had a deer run into my car less than a month after my new car was totaled and I actually can't afford any sort of loaner so I have no way to get to work this week. I don't know what to do.
So if anyone is able to donate even a dollar or two I could really appreciate the help. My venmo link is below.
If nothing else please share
Venmo is a digital wallet that lets you make and share payments with friends. You can easily split the bill, cab fare, or much more. Downloa
you're pregnant and simon riley doesn't let you lift a finger.
it had only been a few months since you found out you were pregnant, barely long enough to grasp the fact that you were going to be parents.
simon watched you more closely now, he noticed the way your belly started to show, the way your body was drained by late afternoon, the way he'd find you still sleeping after a morning run, the way your hand anxiously drifted to your stomach when people approached you.
so when you reach your apartment after a long day out, simon didn't hesitate to let his duffel bag slide off his shoulder and thud to the floor, turning his broad back to you, lowering himself into a deep crouch. his hands reached back, gently guiding your legs to hook around his hips.
"si, i can walk. i'm too heavy!" you started, but he cut you off with a low snort, nonsense, which meant no amount of arguing would change it. you eventually draped your arms over his massive shoulders and let your chin rest against the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him.
you've felt nauseous for the past few weeks. you couldn't bear the smell of any sort of food. the mere scent of coffee or the neighbor's cooking sent you running to the bathroom. only simon's smell put you at ease.
he hoisted you up easily, as if you weighted nothing. his hands, rough and scarred, secured its grip beneath your thighs, holding you steady. when you felt him adjust his hold, shifting your weight slightly to keep you balanced, you murmured "you can put me down now, si", your lips brushing the shell of his ear. he tughtened his grip in response .
simon's pace was slow, not from fatigue, but because he was being careful, placing each boot deliberately, avoiding the creaky steps he'd been meaning to fix for months.
you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, feeling the slight stubble scrape your lips, and he tilted his head just enough to glance at you from the corner of his eye, his expression softening.
when he finally reached your door, he didn't set you down right away, he just stood there for a moment, your arms still wrapped around his neck, your belly pressed against his warm back.
he carried you to the sofa and lowered you down like you carefully, then knelt down to untie your shoes. when you tried to get up, he gave you a look and gently pushed you back against the cushions, muttering, "stay here."
he disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a small bowl of strawberries. he'd noticed that they were the only thing you could keep down. he settled beside you on the sofa, holding the bowl in his lap and feeding you one piece at a time, his thumb brushing your lower lip after each bite, watching you with that tenderness that made you feel the luckiest girl in the world.
Pairings : Mechanic!stalker Simon Riley x fem!reader
Summary : seeing a mechanic in the middle of the nowhere , what are the chances right?
Genre/cw : sfw, nsfw, 18+, mdni, smut, dirty talk language, Stockholm syndrome? stalker!simon riley, reader is unhinged, slight choking
Tags : @yournansstuff, @girlvsghost, @coeurbrule
(Feel free to join the taglist for ghost fics: but also feel free if you want to be removed, just comment <3)
mechanic!simon who found you in the middle of nowhere, your car hood propped open like a wounded bird trying to be free, steam curling into the gray sky, like a dying snake, and god you were cursing up a storm, your hands black with grease from figuring out the wires that were running around here and there inside the hood of the car, but of course, you didnt understand shit, and you kicked the tire like it had personally offended you, "motherfucking absolutely pathetic shit! Like today of all day, seriously?", you groaned, with a overdramatic hum a sound of being helpless, because what were the chances of meeting a mechanic out here? practically zero.
though fate, it seemed, had a sick sense of humor.
mechanic!simon who was quite carefree and had been taking a piss against an oak tree in the wild forest behind him when he heard your voice. (the same voice he can recognize even if he was continents away) and fuck that mouth of yours, sharp and filthy, the cuss words you were throwing around so lcasually and loudly, fuck it was enough to make a sailor blush, and his lips curl into the faintest smirk, that said 'finally got my prey.' truthfully though he'd been out here for hours, covered in motor oil and sweat, the kind of day that made a man grateful for small mercies like privacy and tall grass, but your voice broke his peace, but he didnt mind that because he could only think about your dirty little mouth, which was so filthy and he had just imagined what else that mouth could do other than throwing filth around, and for a second he thought, (cussing never sounded so sweet to him before) and he tucked himself back in, zipped his fly slowly wiped his hand on the front of his jeans and finally turned with aderaline pumping into his veins.
mechanic!simon who watched you from the tree line before making himself known to you, the shadows playing across the skull mask falling upon his features, and he'd pushed it up onto his forehead, so you could see who he was, how he looked and the sun caught the ink on his arms, the way his tank stretched across his chest, muscles earned through work, honestly you didn't notice him at first, because you were too busy glaring at your traitorous engine, then finally as he stepped forward towards you, his boots crunching on gravel, and you whipped around the noise instantly.
mechanic!simon who smirked at you when you stared at him, and he could bet you were drooling a little, and god you actually were, because you feel your brain short-circuititing somewhere between stranger danger and holy shit those arms were something straight outta your wet dreams, because lets be real he was built like he bench-pressed trucks for fun, maybe he did, who knows? and, his skin turned a little tanned from the sun and smudged with grease in places that made your mouth go dry. "need a helpin' hand, luvie?" his voice came out like a rough like a boot crunching on the road full of dry leaves and yet it carried the hint of warmness in it.
mechanic!simon who absolutely loved no he found it so cute, how tongue-tied you got looking at his muscles, and the way your eyes dragged down his inked arms, and how you licked your lips without even realizing it. "sorry," you managed, your throat bobbing, because god really did worked in mysterious ways. "yeah, do you know how to fix cars?" you said though you weren't looking at his eyes, you were looking at his holy-smoke-of-big-ass arms , and god simon let you, but still objectification never sat right with him, because he spent too many years of being seen as a weapon, a tool, but the way you looked at him? maybe, if you were the one doing it everyday, the looking, the drooling, he could make an exception.
mechanic!Simon who stepped closer to you, so close, that you could smell him — the oil, the sweaty smell and something soapy oozing out of his body with a hint of his musk underneath it, and you didnt step back instead your heart flutters making your breath hitch, and the way his eyes briefly closed with a grin before he opened them again, you knew he felt it too, "I can fix more than cars, luvie," he said, stopping just inches away from you so he would not 'crowd your space", and a sharp crooked grin tugs at his lips. "dont worry just teasing..., my name's simon. and ye're in luck, because I'm a mechanic, who happens to be here." (liar he thinks to himself because he sure as hell knows it isn't luck) then he winked at you and bites his lips with a teasing glint in his eyes yet somehow, that alone was enough to make your cheeks burn, and you smile, introducing yourself, and he nods as if he....nevermind.
mechanic!simon who finally turned to your car engine, and let you watch him work, and from the corner of his eyes he noticed you watching him in awe, you watched the way his shoulders rolled when he reached into the engine, the flex of his forearms as he tested wires, the little grunts and hums he made when he figured out what was wrong. It shouldn't have been this erotic—he was literally just doing his job—but your pulse hammered somewhere south of your stomach anyway, and soon you feel your pussy flutter with a heartbeat, "alternator's shot," he announced, turning towards you and your underwear dampens from his deep voice and he straightens himself, wiping his hands on his back pockets. "Can you fix it?", you say clearing your throat.
mechanic!simon who never broke eye contact with you, when he told you, "there is nothing i cant fix birdie, and my shop is just a few blocks back, can walk ye there, and.. I can push her myself. Got the muscle for it." he said pointing towards your car and god you should have said no, because thats how a documentary starts and every survival instinct, every true crime podcast, every warning your mother ever gave you about strange men in isolated places, it all screamed danger, danger, danger, but you looked at him, and something in your chest said trust, so of course you did, because first, you were stupid second he was hotter than a Sahara desert in summers, so saying 'no..?' well, now the word didnt exist in your dictionary anymore.
mechanic!simon who you watched push your car down the empty road, the way his thighs strained against worn denim, the set of his jaw, the effortless strength as he guided two tons of metal like it weighed nothing, and he caught you staring in the rearview mirror you biting the inside of your cheek, as if you were holding back yourself, and he smiled to himself, all teeth and promise, "gunna get ye birdie." he muttered under his breath.
mechanic!simon whose shop was exactly what you'd expect, completely organized, and it smelled of patrol, and similar scent he carried, and you noticed the tools hung with military precision, the smell of rubber and iron filling your sense, and a slowly he rolled your car into the bay and turned to you, wiping his hands again, though they'd never be truly clean, because the grease lived in the lines of his palms, under his nails, in the creases of his knuckles. "gotta wait an hour, birdie," he said, checking the clock. "maybe more, some parts need ordering." and you nodded, looking around his shop, "i see."
mechanic!simon who stepped closer to you again, and this time, you swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of just how close he was. "Or," he continued, his voice dropping into something quieter, "before that, I could make ye feel better. Yer shoulders are tense, yeah? Car trouble does that to a person." and your breath came out shaky, and you glanced away for a second before looking back at him. "Maybe... they are." that only made the corner of his mouth curl into a knowing smirk. He tilted his head slightly, looking far too pleased with himself. "I can see that," he murmured, his voice low and confident. "but I can make ye feel better, I am quite good with my hands." simon grins, biting his lower lips, "i am more of a practical learner", you say with a flirty smile.
mechanic!simon who obliged instantly, his hands settling on your shoulders as he made a low, guttural sound, as if he'd just touched heaven, you closed your eyes, letting out a quiet breath as his hands worked over the tension, with a gentle, practiced motion, he immediately found the knots in your shoulders and worked them with the same precision he applied to engines, his thumbs pressing firmly into your shoulder blades and drawing a surprised gasp from your throat. "see?" he murmured, leaning closer, his mouth brushing your ear, making a jolt of electricity run down your spine, "tight as a drum."
mechanic!simon who escalated it faster than you could track, because one minute, he was massaging your shoulders, his thumbs working slowly over the tension; the next, your back was against the hood of your own car, his body close enough to cage you in without actually pinning you there, heat radiated between you, and your breath caught as you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how quickly the teasing had shifted into something neither of you was pretending not to feel, soon his mouth found your neck, lingering there, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver, your hands instinctively caught against his arms, and you arched into him without meaning to. "Simon—" "Yeah, that's it," he growled, his voice dropping lower. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes fixed on yours. "Say it again." And you feel your heart hammered against your ribs, and yet you did, with a breathy gasp, "Simon." and he moans your name in response with a dark chuckle that rumbled in your body, "jesus, ye fuckin' little trouble."
mechanic!simon who spun you around without giving you a minute to catch your breath, and suddenly your cheek is pressed against cool metal as he shoved your pants down making you gasp as jolts of shiver passes through your body where his fingers brushed against you again, and soon his own zipper flings open, and you feel him pressing his length against your entrance though he doesnt push himself in, instead he slaps his dick over your wet folds making you squirm, and god you feel your knees go weak. “never had a customer like ye, birdie,” he grunted, his tip throbbing around you and you moaned, closing your eyes, and he asks, “want this cock?”, and you open your eyes, feeling a little bit of drool drip down on the hood of your car, and you manage, feeling the heat of wanting whatever this was, “Ye—yeah." and he breathes raspily, “Good girl,” and he pushes his cock inside your hole in one slow, devastating thrust, and you feel the stretch of your cunt as it adjusts to his girth, and you moan loudly feeling your walls burn, with his length, "s' big", you try, but it came out as a small little whine, which echoed off the concrete walls, "mphh, yeah, it is", simon grunt, pushing his cock deeper until you feel him into the pit of your stomach, “such a pretty little hole.” and then he rolls his hips, pulling himself back out and slamming back in, and you feel your walls start to spasm around him, wrapping around his cock, “shit, luv, your cunt is begging and squeezing me already, huh?” honestly you could not answer instead you feel his cock, brushing and teasing your walls with every move he made.
mechanic!simon who set a brutal pace of his cock inside you, his each thrust shoving you harder against the hood, and the wet squelching sound of his cock filling your hole, echoes in the silence of the shop and his hand fists your hair to keep you still, and you pant his name, your eyes rolling back into the back of your head your jaw slacking open, and you feel every coherent thought you had being fucked out by his dick, "knew ye'd be like this," he panted leaning over you, his chest pressed against your spine, almost crushing you, his sweat slicking your back, "knew it the second I saw ye in the neighbour-hood one day." he says, like as if he was planning to 'expose' himself this way.
mechanic!stalker simon, who laughed darkly, when you managed to ask between your moans, "nei-- neighbourhood?" then he slowed his pace just to drag the pleasure out, to make you feel every inch of him, and you breathe trying to understand what the fuck he meant, "oh yeah, luvie," he whispered against your shoulder, "saw ye way before today, saw ye roaming around the neighborhood, that little coffee shop on fifth street, then the laundromat, ye don't remember because ye didn't see me", and his hand slid around your throat, squeezing it slightly, not to hurt but to mark his claim, "followed ye everywhere since then, crazy?" he thrusts inside you again, making you, sob, fuck this crazy ass, though, instead of feeling disgust over this, instead of pushing him away, your mind chants, thats hot honestly, you didnt know why, but you felt safer even if he was a fucking stalker psycho, than you had feel in your home with people you had call family, "probably but guess what got, birdie, it was worth it because now, I have ye, right where i wanted ye to be."
mechanic!stalkersimon who didnt give you a moment to speak and bit your shoulder hard enough to bruise it, and you yelped his name like a curse or a plea to keep going, and he snarled against your skin, "would ye want me to fuck that knowledge out of yer mind, birdie, if ye're scared?" he asks before thrusting , one last time his cock brutally, pulsing against your own fluttering walls and your orgasm hits you like a freight train, "i cumming si!!", you cry out, and it makes your toes curl inside your footwear, and you gasp his name, "no--no, simon, i am not..uh scared", and he groans, slowly rolling his hips, making your jump out of your skin, and he followed you over the edge with a snarl, spending his own seed himself deep inside you, marking your womb completely.
mechanic!simon who stayed liked that for a long while, his cock still twitching with aftershocks and he stays pressed against your back, his cum dripping down your thighs, and his lips traces slow patterns on your sweat-dampened neck, almost tenderly "thirty minutes up," he said eventually, but he didn't move, his cock still buried to the hilt and he kept you beneath him. "could call those parts in, or" his hand slid down your spine, towards your ass and he gave it a firm squeeze. "could keep ye here a while longer. fix ye again and maybe then i can work on yer car?"
mechanic!simon who you should have run from, should have screamed at, should have called the cops on, but instead, you pushed back against him, arching your hips one more time, and a low whimper passes through you, "yeah i'd like that."
mechanic!simon who smiled against your skin, already thinking about all the ways he was going to keep you forever, all the ways he'd already planned, but thought he will tell you eventually.
[This] post had me thinking about hybrid being touch starved due to their toxins and such, so...
Imagine being jellyfish hybrid and, due to the nematocysts covering your skin, no one can touch you without risking death. So they just...don't.
A few brave soulds are willing to touch you only with your extra thick gear on, letting them borrow your gloves so any touch feels more like a barely-registered pressure. You've grown used to setting things down instead of handing them to people less you glove touch them. People give you a wide berth in crowds, and some flinch when you accidentally brush against them
There are no words to describe the type of lonely born from being surrounded by people that refuse to touch you.
It's a grief that you've grown into, something you wear alongside the rest of your gear that protects people from you. No one can touch you, and you have to be okay with that.
Then you meet ghost, a leatherback sea turtle, and your whole worldview changes.
The first touch you experience in years is a hand around your throat and the blunt reminder that you aren't special. That you could die any day. It's brutal, it's terrifying, but late at night...all you can think about was the texture of his skin against yours.
You hardly notice you're doing it, but everyone else does.
How you linger after ghost, eyes locked onto him anytime he isn't looking at you. When you two spar, he keeps all the gear on because "this is how it will be on the field. Sink or swim, soldier."
Some part of you is buzzing just at that. You walk away from every sparring session with electricity under your skin. You pace your room for hours just trying to acclimate to all this touch, never having felt it so much before.
Then one night his hand slips, glove coming off at the same time your helmet shifts and–
His hand. On the bare skin of your neck.
You can hardly think, mind blue-screening from the sensory input of skin that isn't your own, whole body frozen.
Ghost narrows his eyes above you. Distantly, you know he's coming to the right conclusion, he's an SAS operative, he can figure out simple shit like this.
Instead of yelling at you, he carefully removes your hand "you would have been gutted on the field for freezing like that."
Then, he tilts his head, contemplating "you need to familiarize yourself with skin-to-skin contact. We'll start working on that, too."
Christ, ghost wants to kill you with all this training.
Jesus fucking Christ. In the US they’re separating the MMR vaccine into three different shots?? Let me tell you fucking something: YOU CANNOT GET THESE AS SEPARATE SHOTS IN THE US! It is physically impossible to get these three shots separate.
So I guess kids are just going to get measles, mumps, and rubella now! Even though we have a perfectly good MMR vaccine for all three-in-one! Fuck Trump. Fuck Kennedy. Fuck Bill Cassidy and any of these republican dickheads who aided and abetted this grievous wrong to the future of America & all the children who WILL be affected by this. Goddamn monsters in charge.
No, it’s just that the vaccine is only available together because the diseases have been eradicated for so long, we straight up do not make them separate anymore. Which also means that when people do get these diseases it’s gonna be a lot harder to treat and a lot easier to die.
Having a Vampire best friend that is a porn star. The only thing is he runs his own show so he does whatever he wants. It sounds easy but he's extremely picky about who he films with and what he does. So he does the obvious...ask his best friend for help.
I don't get it, you don't get a lot of things. Hey! It's true! And? Don't need to be so mean about it... He sighs, what don't you understand of this? Maybe how we both ended up naked, in your room, and getting recorded! Okay, let's start again. You agreed to this, he points at me. Yes but I didn't think I'd be in the video! So you're out? No! So you're in? Yes, then why question me? Because you needed to be even more blunt! What wasn't blunt when I asked you to help me with a video? I thought you meant behind the camera...
He sighs again and runs his hand over his face. Humans can be so dumb at times... Hey! Don't start it again! You're my model for this video, do monsters even wanna see a human like me? I cover my body a little with my arms. His eyes widen, a human like you? What is that supposed to mean? Your fucking luxury! It's just.... call it stereotypical but most humans well...have preference to people who don't look like me... My voice gets lower as I look away from him. Suddenly I feel his hand grab my chin and make me look at him again. Monsters would kill to have their claws on a pretty human like you. He makes me look into his red eyes. I'm the lucky vampire that gets to do it first. This camera has been recording all of this... Watch the feedback it will get when I post it. They will be begging me to have you again in my bed.
He leans in even more with every couple of words until his directly in my face. And I'm the only vampire that will ever get his hands on you again. His tone is stern and confident as he looks me in the eyes. It's silent as I nod and he closes the distance between us. Stealing a kiss as he guides me backwards to lay on his bed. I will feed on you as I fuck you. He pants as he kisses down my neck before stopping at a pulse point just for a second before laying a soft kiss there. Will treat you so good and the second you get light headed you tell me.
He pulls away to look at me then glances at the camera. Smile for the camera my pretty human... I don't plan on leaving you coherent enough to say bye later. He smirks before looking back at me and going in for another kiss. Spreading my legs as he does and settling in between them. He doesn't stop the kiss as he pushes into me. I whine against his lips and he chuckles. Too much for my precious human? He mumbles against my lips as he slowly starts to fuck me. It's okay, he kisses down my neck until he gets back to that pulsing point. I've got you, right where I want you. He growls before sinking his teeth.
I gasp and dig my nails into him at the weird feeling. He lets out a muffled grunt against me as I tighten around him. Why does that feel good? I whimper as the pleasure over takes me. The stories everyone says a vampire sucking your blood is terrifying. That's a lie...this isn't fear, it's pleasure. His expensive and old bed creaks with each thrust. They get quicker by the minute as he slowly keeps sucking at my neck.
summary: Peter Parker knows something inside him is changing, and it gets harder to fight it every night. Then there’s you, who happens to be the one it won’t leave alone.
note: i am so hungry, and i hope this will also make you all full of peter. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
Walking home alone with too much alcohol in your system makes the city streets feel a little less lonely at night. You stumble slightly over the curb while you check your phone for the time. Spiderman is out there swinging between the buildings somewhere above you. You know he exists without ever trying to follow where he goes. Seeing him on the news occasionally is enough for you. You keep walking down the sidewalk until footsteps drop from the rooftops above you. Tonight feels like an ordinary walk home before someone bumps right into you. Peter is fighting bad headaches that won’t go away no matter what he tries to do about it. His arachnid genes are acting abnormally lately and pushing past his human side in ways he can’t control. He spends his nights searching for a cure because the animal instincts keep taking over his thoughts. Stress makes the biological changes worse tonight since his mind is already exhausted, and seeing MJ kissing another man at her housewarming party earlier today makes it worse.
Watching her with someone else triggered something feral inside him, and it doesn’t help that no one remembers who Peter Parker is anymore. His arachnid instincts take over as he drops over the street before he bumps right into your path. Organic web shoots directly from his wrists instead of mechanical shooters before it wraps around your waist. He grabs you with him to swing around until both of you are up on a rooftop. You don’t know Spiderman personally for him to do that so you think you are in danger as he lands on the roof. The spinning motion, together with the drinks in your stomach, creates a terrible feeling by the time you reach the top of the building. You immediately bend over to throw up all the alcohol in your stomach right onto the roof. He watches you puke before he lets out a loud laugh. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand while he just looks at you and shakes his head.
That first night didn’t end up so terrible because Spiderman brought you home safely after you threw up on the roof. He even apologized for grabbing you off the sidewalk before he left you outside your building. Running into him once feels like a simple coincidence when you think about it the next morning. He knows he doesn’t mean to keep doing it, but he saw you walking home alone weeks later and decided to give you another ride across the city. Happening twice is already something unusual, yet a third or fifth time tells both of you that this is no longer an accident. He can’t control the urges yet since he hasn’t managed to suppress his arachnid genes. Everything that happened on that first night opened his eyes to the idea of trying again. He isn’t actively searching for another girlfriend, though he feels open to the possibility now. He doesn’t understand why his arachnid side feels so protective over you whenever you are out late at night.
He isn’t stalking you by any means, yet his senses alert him whenever someone gets too close to you on the street. He has no idea why his biological instincts react so strongly whenever you walk home alone after a night out. The urge to check on you keeps happening without any clear explanation. Maybe he even programmed your details into E.V so his tech tracks you whenever the cameras catch you walking by yourself. E.V notifies his mask display whenever you leave a building late at night so he can make sure the streets are clear. He tells himself it’s just a safety measure to keep you out of trouble. You never actually saw each other face to face during any of those times E.V watched over you from above. He waited up on the roofs while you walked down the pavement. You only knew he was around when he decided to drop down to pick you up for another ride home. Those repeated trips across the city happened several more times over the past few weeks.
Neither of you talks about why he keeps showing up whenever you are out late. His arachnid side feels satisfied whenever he drops you off safely at your front door. He never fails to bring you home after you finish drinks with your friends. Tonight tests his patience because the alcohol in your system makes you act way too clingy. You wrap your arms around his shoulders instead of holding onto him normally while he takes you above the street. You press your face into his neck right over his collar. He tries to ignore the way you rub your nose against him as he moves between the buildings. “Don’t move around so much up here,” he grunts while he checks the distance to the next roof. You ignore his warning before you inhale the scent of his suit right against his throat. Your mouth opens against the material as you leave small pecks along his neck. He tenses up when your teeth bite down on him through the fabric.
His senses are already too sensitive tonight, so your mouth against his neck distracts him. His web misses the next building after your teeth catch him by surprise. “F-fuck- what are you doing?” he curses as he brings you closer against his chest. Both of you almost fall before he shoots another web to find support and avoid touching the ground. “You smell good,” you mumble against his throat while your teeth nip at him again. He manages to get both of you across the rest of the blocks without falling again. He lands on the floor of your balcony before he sets you down. You refuse to let go of his shoulders even after your feet touch the ground. His arachnid side reacts badly because your mouth keeps trailing over his neck. “Stop biting me,” he warns you as his hands hold your waist. He backs you toward the wall of your apartment while his breathing turns ragged behind his mask. “Mmm- no,” you say before you tug him closer by his shoulders.
He looks down at you with his chest heaving while he tries to control his urges. He raises one arm while he keeps you against the wall of the balcony. A line of web shoots from his wrist toward the knob of your balcony door. It sticks to the handle before he pulls his arm back to slide the door open. He wants you inside because standing out here makes everything too complicated. You ignore the open door while you keep your arms around his shoulders. Your hands leave his shoulders before you reach up toward his mask. You try to pull the red fabric up over his chin so you can look at his face. His right hand leaves your waist before his fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from lifting it higher. He pushes your hand away from his face while he looks down at you. “Don’t do that,” he warns you as he shoves your wrist back down between your bodies. You try to reach for the mask again with your other hand, but he blocks you easily.
“I can’t let you see me,” he tells you while he keeps your hands away from his head. The alcohol in your system makes you stubborn, so you push your hands against his chest in frustration. You hate that he stops you every time you try to see who hides behind the mask. “That’s not fair,” you complain while you try to wiggle your wrists away from his fingers. He keeps you against the wall while your feet kick slightly against the floor. “You always pick me up and bring me home, but you won’t even show me your face,” you whine as you bump your forehead against his shoulder. He watches you throw a tantrum before he finally lets go of your wrists to guide you through the open balcony door into your living room. He swats your hands away whenever you try to touch his chest again. He walks you backward across the floor while he watches your face. “You’re too drunk tonight,” he tells you as he tries to keep some space between your bodies.
You ignore his warning before you wrap your hands around his arms. “I’m very aware of what I’m doing,” you complain while your fingers caress the fabric of his sleeves. He tries to shake you off, but you refuse to let go of him. You look up at him while he keeps walking you backward across the room. “Don’t you want a reward for keeping me safe?” you ask him while your hands move up to his shoulders. He shakes his head immediately before he tries to remove your hands from his suit. “You need to sleep,” he answers while he pushes you toward your bedroom hallway. You hate that he keeps rejecting you after everything he did for you tonight. You stop walking backward so you can look up at his face. He pulls the bottom of his mask up just enough above his chin to leave his lips exposed so he can catch his breath. You stare at his mouth while he tries to get you to move again.
You lean forward quickly to try to kiss his lips. He catches your shoulders with his hands before your mouth can touch him. He pushes you back away from him while he turns his head to the side. “No,” he warns you as he holds you at arm’s length. You stumble backward into your bedroom while you look at him in disbelief. “Why won’t you let me thank you?” you whine before you try to step toward him again. He acts quickly by shooting a thick line of web around both of your forearms to bind your wrists together behind your back so you stop grabbing him. You stumble back a step until the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you sit down. His hands reach for your ankles before he starts taking your shoes off your feet. He tosses your shoes aside while he tries to ignore the way you keep staring down at him. You spread your legs wider apart on the edge of the mattress to get his attention.
He tries to ignore what you are doing while he drops your second shoe onto the floor. You lift your right leg before you place your foot right on his shoulder. You use your leg to pull his shoulder closer toward the bed. He shakes his head at you while he kneels on the floor between your knees. “Why are you acting like you don’t want me?” you whine while you pout down at his mask. He lets out a loud sigh before he leans forward between your knees. He drops his forehead right against your thigh with his shoulders tensed up. The mask is rolled up above his chin so his mouth is uncovered. His exposed lips touch the fabric of your pants while he rests his head on your leg. “You’re making it really hard for me to behave tonight,” he warns you as his chest rises against your knees. You feel his breath through your pants while he keeps his forehead on your thigh. He tries to control his arachnid side before he does something he can’t take back.
You feel the web that binds your arms together behind your back. The alcohol makes you bold, so you lean your chest closer toward his face. “I wouldn’t mind if you tied the rest of me up with your web,” you tease him while you nudge his shoulder with your foot. He lifts his head from your thigh to look up at your face. His jaw tightens after he hears what you want him to do. “Jesus- don’t give me ideas like that,” he mutters before his hands reach up to hold your hips. He pulls you closer to the edge of the mattress until your thighs surround his chest. He refuses to back away from you now that you invited him closer. “I can’t do much with my arms tied up anyway,” you tease him while you look down at his exposed mouth. He looks at your face before his hand reaches up to grab your ankle. He removes your foot from his shoulder and sets your heel down onto the floor between his knees. “Are you really going to leave me here like this?” you ask him before you nudge his side with your leg. He shakes his head as he kneels on the floor in front of you.
“This is some freaky shit you’re doing tonight,” you joke while you watch his jaw tighten. He keeps looking at you like he is trying to figure out how far you are going to push this. “Don’t make this harder than it already is,” he warns you while his jaw tightens behind his mask. He keeps his head down as he tries to ignore the way you lean toward him. “If you won’t untie me, then at least help me get my pants off,” you complain while you tilt your chin down at him. You don’t really care about changing your clothes tonight. You only want to make it look like you need help so you can see how far you can push his patience. He looks down at your lap before his thumbs touch the waistband of your pants. He knows you are trying to mess with him, but he refuses to back away from the bed. “Come on, do the belt first,” you chuckle while you wiggle your hips slightly on the mattress. He looks up at your face while he kneels on the floor between your knees.
You watch him hesitate before he reaches for the front of your waist. Both of his hands move to the belt around your pants so he can undo it for you. He removes the belt from your waist. He drags the strap free while you keep your attention on his exposed mouth. He drops the belt onto the floor before his hands return to the sides of your waist. “You took the belt off, but you aren’t going to unzip them?” you complain while you shake your head at him. You start pulling your wrists apart behind your back while he kneels in front of you. “What the fuck is that about?” you ask him while you try to push your hips forward on the mattress. You manage to tear through some of the web around your hands even though it doesn’t come off all the way. You keep pulling your wrists apart while you wait for him to answer you. He hears the web tearing behind your back while he kneels between your knees. He doesn’t try to stop your hands from moving because he is just letting you have your fun.
He ignores what you are doing behind your back while his thumbs move to the top of your pants. “Just stop moving for a second,” he tells you before his fingers pop the button open. He pulls the zipper down until your pants open wide at your waist. You spread your legs wider on the edge of the bed so he can take them off. You wait for him to lean closer, but he surprises you by moving away instead. He crawls backward on his knees two steps away from the edge of the mattress. He pushes your knees together with his hands before he grabs the waistband of your pants. He pulls the pants all the way down your legs in one motion until they slide off your ankles. You smirk down at him because he stripped them off you so easily. “You can look,” you tease him when you notice him turn his head to the side. Your smirk grows bigger as you watch him avoid looking at your red panties. “I’m trying really hard to be responsible here,” he mutters while he looks away from you.
He keeps his eyes away from your waist while he drops your pants onto the floor beside him. “You don’t always have to be the good guy,” you tease him while you wiggle your knees on the edge of the mattress. You pull your wrists apart harder behind your back while you wait for him to look at you. “They match your suit,” you point out as you lean your chest forward. He turns his head back toward you before his eyes drop down to your red panties. He doesn’t mean to stare, but your words make him look anyway. “I knew you wanted to see,” you laugh while you keep working your wrists apart behind your back. He shakes his head at you while he kneels on the floor between your feet. “You’re not helping my case here,” he groans before he looks up at your face. You stretch the last strands of web behind you while you watch him hesitate. “Take them off,” you tell him as you tilt your chin down at him.
His jaw tightens while he tries to ignore what you want him to do. “It won’t hurt anyone if you do,” you add while your shoulders twist on the bed. His human side wants to back away so he doesn’t take advantage of you. His arachnid instincts fight harder against him because every second near you makes him want to stop holding back. He keeps his mouth shut while his hands hover over his knees. You force your wrists apart until the web snaps behind your back. You bring your arms forward so your hands sit in your lap. The web still covers your fingers and wrists, but your arms are finally free. You grin down at him while you show off what you did. He scoffs at your face because you look so proud of yourself. “You know I let you do that, right?” he asks you while his mouth almost forms a smirk. You ignore his excuse before you rest your hands against your thighs. “I’m stronger than you thought,” you boast while you look down at his exposed lips.
He shakes his head while he reaches forward to touch your knees. You lift your hands to grab his mask again, but he tilts his head back away from your reach. “Keep trying that, and I’m going to tie you to the bed,” he warns you while his hands move up from your knees to your waist. He looks up at your face before his thumbs hook over the waistband of your red panties. “Yeah? With your web?” you smirk down at him as you open your knees wider against his sides. You ignore what his hands are doing at your hips before you grab the bottom of your shirt. You pull the top over your head in one motion and toss it across the bedroom floor. Taking off your shirt leaves you sitting on the mattress in only your underwear and your bra while he kneels between your feet. “Jesus- I told you to stop making this worse,” he mutters while his jaw clenches below the rolled fabric of his mask. You reach your hands behind your back to undo the clasps of your bra so you can take it off too.
He raises his right hand before a line of web shoots from his wrist right onto the center of your bra. He yanks his arm backward so the web snaps the clasps open behind you and pulls the bra away from your chest. He catches the bra with his right hand and throws it into the corner of the room. “I told you not to be stubborn,” he warns you while he drops his right arm back to your waist. You cross your arms over your chest to cover yourself because you didn’t expect him to strip you like that. Your face heats up while you look down at his exposed mouth in surprise. You look up at his eyes through the mask and think they look like they are turning black. You blame the dark room and the bad lighting for making his eyes look so strange. He knows it isn’t the lighting because his arachnid genes are fighting harder to push past his human side. His animal instincts want to take over now that you are sitting unprotected in front of him.
Both of his hands return to your hips before his thumbs hook into the waistband of your red panties. You push his hands away from your waist before you crawl backward toward the middle of the mattress. He gets up from the floor while he watches you get to your feet on the bed. You hook your thumbs into the sides of your panties to push them down your legs. You kick the red fabric off your ankles before you throw it right at his chest. “I can take them off myself,” you tease him while you stand naked in front of him. He catches the underwear with one hand before he lets it drop onto the floor. He tries to avoid looking right between your legs, but his arachnid side takes over. He raises his wrist before a line of web hits your stomach. He yanks his arm backward to pull you off the mattress and into the middle of the bedroom. The web lifts you up so your feet leave the floor. “What the fuck- are you serious right now?” you laugh while you kick your legs in the air.
He ignores you before he lifts his other wrist to send another web around your right forearm. He attaches the other end to the ceiling so your right arm stretches above your head. He casts more web across your waist before he connects the ends to the walls to keep you in place. The web holds you high enough so your hips align with his waist. You yank your free left arm around to see what he will do about it. He releases another line of web around your left wrist before you can swing at him again. He pulls your left arm upward before he attaches the end to the ceiling on the opposite side of the room. Both of your arms spread wide open above your head while the web wraps down to your elbows so you can’t pull your hands down. “Are you going to fuck me like this, spidey?” you tease him while you try to wiggle your hips against the web. He watches you test the hold before he shakes his head at your consistency in trying to get into his pants.
“You wanted me to tie you up,” he grunts before he sends more web across your chest and hips. He attaches the ends to the walls around you until you have nowhere else to go. Your legs dangle in the air while your feet hover above the floor. He aims his wrist at your right leg to put web around your thigh before he lifts your knee up to the side to connect the end to the wall. “Like what you see?” you tease him while you look down at where his eyes drop. He ignores your joke before he raises his left wrist to release more web around your left calf and ankle. He pulls your other knee upward and attaches that web to the opposite wall so your legs spread wide apart. The web bends your knees back until your feet hang high off the bedroom floor. Your entire body hangs in the center of the bedroom right at his hip level with your knees bent back. The web covers your forearms before it wraps around your waist to hold your body up in the air.
Your bent legs hang open so your chest and your cunt are exposed to his eyes. He steps right between your spread knees while he looks down at your waist. You can’t move your limbs away while he stands right in front of you with his mask rolled up above his mouth. “You’re not so talkative now,” he mutters while he looks at your face. You try to wiggle your hips against the web, but it holds you tight in the air. His suited hands reach toward your thigh where the web wraps around your leg. His hands trail slowly over the web while you watch his mouth open slightly. “What’s wrong, spidey? Are you going to leave me here like this?” You laugh as you push your hips forward. His hand leaves your thigh before his palm slaps hard against your exposed cunt. “Ah-! F-fuck-” you gasp while your thighs flex against the web. He watches you react to the slap while his head tilts to the side. “I told you to stop testing me,” he warns you before his hand rests against your inner thigh.
He lifts his left hand between your legs before he presses his covered palm right between your legs. He rubs his palm over you while you try to push your hips forward to meet his hand. The web around your waist holds you in place so you can’t grind against his palm. “Is this what you want?” he asks you while his fingers trace over your wetness. You nod at him while you pout down at his exposed mouth. “You can’t tie me up like this and not give me anything,” you complain as your knees pull against the web. He hums at your answer before he rubs his palm harder against your cunt. “Nnngh-” you gasp while you try to close your legs, but the web keeps your knees apart. He watches your mouth open while he keeps working his hand between your thighs. You try to move your hips again, but the web holds your waist in the air. “You’re really asking me to do this?” he asks you while his teeth clench below the red fabric.
He slows his hand down between your thighs while he waits for your answer. “That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do all night,” you answer while you look down at his face. He stops rubbing your cunt before he pulls his hand away from between your legs. He takes a step back from your feet before he turns around so his back faces your body. He reaches for the shoulders of his suit and starts pulling the fabric down his chest. You watch him peel the top half of the suit off his back while he stands in the middle of the room. “What about the mask?” you ask him as he pushes the suit past his waist. He keeps his back turned toward you while he steps out of the bottom half of the suit. “The mask isn’t coming off,” he tells you while he drops the suit onto the floor. He wears only his boxers and the red mask over his head before he turns around to face your spread knees. He brings his right hand back between your legs without the suit in his way anymore.
He brushes his middle finger down your folds while his thumb presses against your clit. You bite your lower lip and try to wiggle your knees, but the web around your hips stops you from moving closer. He raises his left wrist and shoots another band of web around your right thigh to stop you from moving around. “Ah-! Why did you do that?” you whine as the web wraps tight around your leg. He ignores your complaint before he slips two fingers inside your cunt. “You look adorable tied up in my web like this,” he tells you while he watches your mouth open. You try to push your hips forward to take more of his fingers, but the web holds you back. “Yeah? Adorable enough to actually fuck?” you tease him while you look down at his face. His lips curve up into a smile below his mask before he pushes his fingers deeper inside you. “Nngh-! F-fuck-” you gasp as his fingers move inside your wetness. He watches your chest rise and fall while he keeps his hand between your thighs.
“You’re so desperate tonight, you can’t even wait five seconds,” he mutters while he curls his fingers inside your entrance. He pushes his hand deeper between your legs while you look down at his mask. “You’re still holding back on me,” you complain while you try to move your knees against the web. He steps closer between your spread legs and brings his face right next to your neck. His exposed lips press against your throat before he speaks against you. “I’m only doing this for your own good,” he whispers while his fingers work inside your cunt. It’s been years since the last time he touched someone like this or actually had sex with anyone. That’s the main reason he’s been holding back as much as he can all night. His arachnid side wants to swallow his human genes so his animal instincts can take control over his actions. He knows he’s on the edge of breaking if he keeps touching you like this.
He pushes his fingers deeper between your thighs while he listens to your breathing change. You squeeze your cunt tight around his fingers while you look at the top of his head. “So do you want me just to moan spidey all night since I don’t know your real name?” you taunt him as you try to move your hips. He pushes his thumb hard against your clit before he drags his tongue across your neck. “Haaah-! m-mfffh-” you gasp as his mouth leaves your throat before he lifts his head to look at you. He licks his own bottom lip while he thinks about whether he should tell you or keep quiet. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers inside your cunt while he stares at your face through the mask. You look up at his covered face where only his mouth shows below the red fabric. “Don’t you want to hear me moan your actual name?” you ask him before you squeeze your cunt around his fingers again.
You can’t push your hips forward to get his hand deeper because the web holds you in place. He sighs through his nose while his jaw moves under the mask. “Peter- you can call me Peter,” he mutters while he curls his fingers inside you. There are thousands of guys named Peter in New York, so you wouldn’t know who he really is anyway. He knows that if he ever takes the mask off to show you his face, then he will just have to keep you by his side so you never tell anyone. You hum when you hear his name while he keeps moving his fingers between your thighs. Your clit starts to throb against his thumb, so you close your eyes and let your mouth fall open. “Mmn- ahhnn-” you breathe out while your head tilts back against the air. He lifts his left hand away from your side and brings it up to your chest. His palm cups your exposed breast while his fingers roll your nipple between them.
He squeezes your breast while his other hand works inside your wetness. “You really know what you’re doing with those hands, Peter,” you tell him while you open your eyes to look down at his mask. He scoffs under his breath because he knows you’re just trying to talk him into fucking you now. Hearing his name from your mouth sends a rush straight down to his cock, so his arachnid side reacts before he can stop it. An embarrassing but small amount of web shoots out from his wrists. “Looks like someone else can’t hold back anymore,” you tease him while you laugh at the white string on his wrist. He pinches your nipple hard before he drops his hand away from your chest. “Ah-! sh-shit-” you gasp while he reaches his hand down to the front of his boxers. He grabs his cock right through the fabric while he stares up at your mouth. “See? I told you that you were just as desperate as me,” you laugh while more slick coats his fingers inside your cunt.
He sighs through his nose before he slips his hand under the waistband of his boxers. He strokes his cock inside his shorts while he watches you try to close your legs. “Stop playing around and take those off,” you complain while you watch his hand move under the fabric. You try to wiggle your hips forward to reach him, but the web keeps you in place. “You want it so bad? Come over here and get it,” he teases you while he keeps his fingers working inside your wetness. You glare up at his masked face because your arms are stretched above your head. “Oh, that’s right... You can’t move because you’re tied up,” he mocks you while he curls his fingers inside your cunt. He watches you try to pull your knees together against the web. “Nngh-! p-please-” you whine out while your hips try to push against his hand. He never stops pumping his fingers between your thighs while his other hand strokes his hard cock inside his shorts.
You shake your head at him because he won’t do anything besides finger you. It frustrates you that you can’t even wiggle your knees away from his touch. “Poor baby... Are you getting impatient?” he laughs while he looks at your pout. He pushes his fingers deeper between your wet folds while he watches your mouth open. “I hate you so much,” you mutter while your cunt squeezes around his fingers. He smiles below his rolled-up mask before he slows down his hand between your legs. “Mhm, you’ve been good enough for me tonight,” he tells you before he pulls his hand out of your cunt. He lifts his wet hand up to his mouth to lick your slick off his fingers. He watches your cunt clench around emptiness while he uses both hands to push his boxers down his hips. He kicks the shorts off his feet away from him across the bedroom floor. You watch him stand naked in front of you with only the red mask covering the top of his head. “Never fucked someone like this before, Peter?” you taunt him while you look down at his cock.
You arch your back against the web while he steps closer to your spread thighs. “Never had someone tied up like a toy without their legs around you?” you ask him while your knees pull against the web. His exposed lips curve into a smirk because he knows you always have to be a smart-ass. He steps closer to your spread legs before he slips his right hand through the web to hold your leg. He uses his free left hand to guide his hard cock right between your thighs. He rubs the head of his cock up and down against your wet folds without pushing inside you yet. “Hah- wait- P-Peter-” you gasp out while he slides his length over your clit. He looks down at your face while you try to push your hips forward against the web. “Shh- quiet down for me,” he whispers before he starts to push his cock slowly between your lips. His left hand guides him inside until his length is deep enough to fill your cunt before he drops his hand and stops pushing forward.
He brings his hand up to your face while you tilt your head to rub your cheek against his palm. “Mmf-” you whine while you lean into his hand. He watches you through the white lenses of his mask while you close your eyes to bite your bottom lip. He looks at the way your face reacts to him opening you up, and he likes seeing you tied up for him. He pushes his hips forward again to slide the rest of his cock inside you. You breathe through your open mouth once he pushes all the way inside your cunt. You open your eyes to look at his covered face because you want to see what he looks like right now. Your eyebrows knit together while tears start to gather in the corners of your eyes. “Oh god- haaah-” you moan while you feel him push your cunt wide open. He squeezes your thigh before he leans forward to rest his forehead against your neck. He starts thrusting his hips back and forth while the web holds your body up.
“You take me so well,” he grunts against your throat while he picks up his pace. He brings his hips back so only the tip of his cock is inside you before he slams himself forward to bury himself deep again. You try to move your knees, but the web forces your legs wide open. “P-peter… please, let me see you-” you beg him while he thrusts fast and hard inside your cunt. He ignores what you asked before his teeth bite down onto the side of your neck. “I told you no- jesus-” he mutters against your throat while his hand squeezes your thigh tighter. He moves his other hand from your cheek to the back of your head so he can tangle his fingers in your hair. He forces your head back while he keeps pumping his cock in and out of your cunt. You cry out against his shoulder while his hips slap against your thighs with every thrust. His lips trail up from your throat to your jaw before he presses his mouth against yours. You close your eyes while he kisses you hard enough to force your teeth apart with his tongue.
He bites down on your bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth and lets it go to spit right onto your lips. “Mmmph- you’re so-” you moan after he does that, and his tongue licks your lips. He pulls his face back to look at you before his right hand reaches down to snap the web around your right thigh. He pulls your freed leg up against his side so your knee rests beside his hip. The new position lets him push his cock deeper inside your cunt while he holds you close against his body. He watches your face through his white lenses while he keeps moving his hips forward. His left hand rests tangled in your hair behind your head to keep you in place. Your cunt clenches tight around his cock, and his fingers pull back on your hair hard enough to make your scalp burn. His shaft throbs inside your wetness while he watches your mouth fall open. “Do you want your other leg wrapped around me too?” he asks you while his hips slam into your thighs.
You nod at him while you try to move your left knee against the web. He keeps holding your right thigh with his right hand while he raises his left wrist to shoot two fresh bands of web over your arms. It gives your arms more support in the air before his left hand snaps the web around your left calf. He guides your left leg over his waist so both of your thighs wrap around his hips. He grabs both of your hips with his hands while you float in the middle of the room. “You know how good you look right now?” he asks you before he thrusts deeper inside your cunt. His fingers dig so hard into your hip that it hurts your flesh like he wants to devour you. “Nngh-! o-ow- Peter that hurts-” you complain while your hips rock against his cock. He looks down at your face while he slows down for a second. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he tells you while his thumbs push harder into your waist. He leans in closer to your ear to bite it, but it’s just an excuse to be closer to you.
“You’re going to take it like a good girl,” he whispers before he lifts your legs off his waist and puts your ankles up onto his shoulders. He looks down between your bodies to watch his cock slide in and out of your wet cunt. His enhanced hearing picks up every single noise in the bedroom while he speeds up his thrusts. He listens to the wet squelching of your cunt and the loud slap of his hips against your thighs. Your ragged breaths are loud in his ears while he pushes his cock all the way to his pelvis. He holds your ankles on his shoulders while his hips work faster inside your wetness. His fingers caress up and down your calves while he thrusts deep inside you. You get closer to the edge every time he pushes all the way in. You don’t tell him you’re about to cum, but he feels the way you pulse around him. The wetness drips down his shaft while you squeeze him tight. You need to hold onto him while the pleasure builds, so you tug hard against the web around your arms.
“I need you- p-please let me hold you,” you whine while your toes curl against his shoulders. He turns his head to the side to bite down hard onto your calf. He pulls his cock back until only the tip is left inside you before he slams all the way deep again. He fucks you so hard that the web around your body starts to break. The broken pieces weigh you down, but the rest of the web holds you up in the air. He moves his hands away from your legs to tear right through the bands around your waist. His arms wrap tight around your body while he brings you against his chest. “I need you right here with me,” he grunts before he buries his face into your neck. He thrusts deep enough to reach that spot inside your cunt, and it makes you cum instantly. “Nngh-! o-oh god-” you moan while your wetness coats his cock. He feels you cumming around him and his arachnid instincts take over his head. His enhanced strength makes it effortless for him to walk forward and break right through the remaining webs to carry you.
You wrap your arms around his neck before he walks both of you toward the bed without ever pulling his cock out of you. He gets onto the bed so he can lay you down on the mattress and hover over you. Shredded web clings to your arms and your thighs. “You came around me so fast,” he mutters while he looks down at your face. You nod at him before he slowly starts to thrust inside your cunt again. Your hands leave his shoulders to grab the bottom edge of his mask. You push the fabric all the way up over his head to see his face finally. It scares you because his eyes are pitch black instead of human. You open your mouth to react, but he grabs both of your wrists with his hands. He pins your arms down hard onto the mattress beside your head. “Come on- you wanted to see me so bad,” he smirks while he stares down at you. You try to pull your hands out from under his palms, but he keeps smirking at you.
“You’re not even human- you’re a d-demon,” you gasp while you stare up into his black eyes. He ignores what you called him before he thrusts his cock deep into your cunt. “Ahhhnn- f-fuck-” you moan out loud even though you just tried to insult him. He watches your mouth fall open while he keeps his body pressed over you. “Shh- it’s just me,” he mocks you with fake sympathy while he holds your arms down on the bed. He raises his wrists to shoot web right over your forearms to bind them to the bed so your arms are spread wide open again. “You have such playful hands,” he tells you before he lets go of your wrists. He gets up onto his knees between your spread legs before his left hand grabs your waist and his right hand reaches up to grope your breast. “Are you scared of me now?” he asks you while his fingers squeeze your nipple. You shake your head quickly on the pillow, but he smirks down at you from his knees. “You really should be,” he tells you while his right hand squeezes your breast. He pushes his cock deep into your cunt, and his fingers play with your nipple.
His left hand slides down your side to reach between your legs. You try to twist your bound wrists against the mattress before his right hand leaves your chest. He raises his right wrist to shoot an extra layer of web right over your hands. “Stop fighting me, or I’ll shut your mouth for you,” he warns you while his left hand finds your wet clit. He pinches your clit hard enough to make you whine. “Ah-! nn- please-” you beg him while you shake your head on the pillow. You don’t want to piss him off because he keeps staring at you with those black eyes. You spread your thighs wider for him in response, and he takes a deep breath. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you while a smirk forms on his face. He slams his hips forward with more force, and his left thumb rubs back and forth over your clit. He doesn’t care that you just had an orgasm minutes ago because he keeps rubbing exactly where you are most sensitive.
“Mmf- hahh- it’s too much-” you cry out while your cunt clenches around his cock. His right hand goes right back up to your chest to grab your other breast. He squeezes the soft flesh while his hips slap against your thighs. “You look so fucking perfect like this,” he grunts while his thumb flicks over your tight nipple. You want to touch his body badly, but the webs keep your hands pinned to the bed. “Nngh- let me hold you- p-please, Peter,” you beg him while you twist against the web. He looks down at your wrists, and he keeps thrusting into your wetness. “If you want to touch me, then just break free,” he challenges you while he keeps his hands on your body. You stop struggling because you know exactly what he will do if you manage to escape. “Nn- you’d just tie me down again,” you complain while your hips rock up to meet his thrusts. He chuckles above you before he leans all the way down over your body.
He pushes his mouth right against yours for a quick kiss, and he trails his lips down your neck. He moves over to the breast that he neglected earlier to drag his tongue right across the tip. “Oh god- haaah-” you moan out loud while his wet tongue licks your nipple. He moves his face back a few inches to look at you again. “You can try to break free all you want because I don’t bite,” he whispers before he drops his head back down. He wraps his mouth all the way around your nipple, and he bites down hard on the sensitive peak. “F-fuck- ahhhnn-!” you scream out while your back arches off the mattress. The bite makes your cunt squeeze tight around his cock. You thrust your hips up against him while he sucks on your breast. He grunts out loud before he shoves his hips forward to push you deeper into the mattress. He thrusts his cock as deep as he can go while he keeps his teeth pressed into your nipple. His mouth works over your bud while his left hand rubs your wet clit.
His right hand squeezes your other breast before his cock slams deep into your cunt. Having all his attention on your sensitive body pushes you over the edge again. You tear your wrists right through the webs to free your hands from the mattress. You throw your arms around his shoulders so you can tangle your fingers into his hair. You drag your nails down his back while your hips thrust up to welcome every deep pound inside your cunt. “Fuck- yes- mmn- right there,” you moan out loud while you arch your back off the bed. He sucks hard on your breast to take whatever he can get from you. He slams his hips forward faster to match your needy movements. The thought of breeding you takes over his head. He wants to pump all of his cum as deep as he can reach inside your cunt. He feels his balls tighten because he gets closer to cumming with every hit. “I’m going to fill you up so much,” he grunts against your chest before he bites your nipple one more time.
He lifts his mouth from your breast to leave wet kisses up your neck until he reaches your shoulder. He sinks his teeth right into the curve of your shoulder before he pulls away to look at your face. He watches your eyes roll back while his left hand pinches your clit and his right hand pinches your nipple. He rubs his thumb faster over your wetness while he shoves his cock all the way to the base. “You feel so fucking good around me, don’t you?” he praises you before he leans all the way down. He pushes his mouth against yours to force his tongue past your lips. You open your mouth for him so he can taste you while his hips slap against your thighs. “Mmmph- ahhh-” you whine right against his mouth while you kiss him back. The urge to cum gets too close for him to think straight. He doesn’t even notice that his fingers slow down on your clit or how his thrusts become sloppy.
He can feel his cock throb deep inside your wetness. He knows he won’t last another minute before he cums inside you. He bites down hard on your bottom lip until he tastes blood on his tongue. He keeps his teeth there the exact moment his cum starts shooting deep inside your cunt. “Mmf- f-fuck-” he groans against your lips while he empties himself inside you. He leans his forehead against yours while his hips keep moving. He feels how close you are to another orgasm, so he slows his movements down to be gentler. You push his face away to tug on his hair until he opens his eyes. You look up at his face to see that his eyes are normal again. He realizes he is finally back to normal. He moves his hand away from your clit to rest his palm on the mattress beside your neck. He continues to roll his hips between your legs before he leans his forehead against yours again. “I- I’m sorry,” he whispers over your mouth.
You close your eyes to caress his back while you listen to his heavy breaths. “Why are you sorry?” you ask him while your hips move with his thrusts. He takes a moment to catch his breath before he answers you. “I was too rough earlier, and I wasn’t myself,” he mumbles right against your lips. Hearing that makes you bite your bottom lip before you grind your hips up against his cock. You breathe hard against his mouth to share his air before you lean up to kiss him. “I can handle you just fine,” you tell him between soft pants. He moves his face away from yours after he hears that. He wonders if someone can actually take that side of him without getting hurt. His left hand squeezes your chest gently while his cock pushes deeper inside your cunt. He closes his eyes as he feels the wetness coating his shaft. He wants to give you a second orgasm, so his hand balls up into a fist to twist the bedsheets beside your head.
He takes his time to slide all the way out before he pushes back in. “Haaah- oh god- yes,” you whine out loud while your cunt squeezes his cock. You cum hard around him, and he throbs inside you the exact second he feels it. He drops all his weight onto your chest to hide his face in your neck. “That was my first time letting that part of me out,” he whispers against your collarbone. You trace your nails over his shoulders to comfort him. “Let’s hope it was worth it,” you tease him while you wrap your arms around his back. He shivers against you, and his cock twitches deep inside you. He drags his teeth over your collarbone before a ragged exhale leaves his mouth. His body melts completely against your chest, and he refuses to pull out. You let your fingers wander down his sweaty spine while he nuzzles your neck. “More than worth it,” he mumbles back.
frat!sukuna crashing out over gojo trying to steal his baby mama!
frat!sukuna wouldn't say he baby trapped you.
because apparently, the whole trap part didn't fucking work in the first place.
if it did, you wouldn't be letting rival frat president!gojo buy you groceries and grin at you like he couldn't wait to get in your panties. freak just wanted to try your fucking breast milk.
the white-haired idiot had no interest in changing diapers or pushing around strollers or burping a four-month old only to end up with a trail of spit down his shirt.
but noooooo, it seemed like you still thought he would make a better boyfriend than the actual father of your child.
sure, okay, it wasn't like the two of you had ever officially dated. but fucking in the bathroom at frat parties was and going out for breakfast together the morning after was kinda close? besides, you were supposed to come to him all doe-eyed and distraught with a pregnancy test in hand to let him lock you down for good and become future father of the year. not just retreat and run away - right into the arms of a waiting buffoon with nothing better to do than beg for your attention.
he'd been trying to step up. but someone wouldn't stop getting in the goddamn way.
sukuna knew you used to tutor him. he just hadn't known how borderline obsessed gojo was with you.
intercepting his calls, pretending to be you over text, trying to tell him the wrong times for appointments and pick ups, everything possible in his power to put himself firmly between the two of you. you didn't even believe him when he tried to tell you either.
rolling your eyes and swearing that satoru would never.
you were naive. a little awkward. the shy sort that got all agitated at the slightest bit of attention. sukuna liked the way you flushed just from a few words, how you refused to meet his stare unless you were laid bare beneath him, biting your lip or burying your face into his collarbone when he groaned your name.
so how the hell had a guy like satoru gojo sunk his claws into you right under his nose?
"he just wants to fuck you," sukuna gritted his teeth, trying not to actually growl when you slid into the booth across from him - all while mr. moron who snuck in walked over to the barista with your baby strapped to his chest.
"i think you're projecting," you muttered under your breath, arching up an eyebrow and swirling a straw around the drink sukuna already ordered you. your favorite.
"i never said i didn't," he sharply retorted, holding his chin up high like it wasn't eating him fucking alive seeing you act like a married couple with gojo when that was supposed to be him.
"come on, it's not like you're actually interested anymore," you murmured, shaking your head as you sighed at him.
"what the fuck are you talking about?" he frowned, brows furrowed tight.
"you're surrounded by sorority girls most weekends," you shrugged, as if he wasn't trying to spend every night you'd let him at your place taking night shifts with his son. "and i just had a baby."
"did he fucking say something to you?" he snapped, squinting accusingly at gojo before swiveling his head back to you.
you were all flustered, your cute face scrunching as you scoffed and motioned for him to lower his voice, "it's common sense. we're not together. of course you're sleeping with other girls. it's fine, i-"
"no, no, i'm-" he protested, but you weren't finished, awkwardly mumbling that it wasn't like the two of you were ever something serious anyway.
"satoru asked me to be his girlfriend yesterday," you added, shoulders sheepishly bobbing up. "so, you know, if you decide to date around too, it's not gonna be weird or anything."
"did you say yes?" he gawked, grinding his molars as he debated on banging his own head against the wall of the cafe.
"well, not yet," you mumbled, tilting your head to the side. "but i'm-"
"you two talkin' about me?" your not-boyfriend chuckled, grinning as he returned with a bag filled with muffins and croissants and whatever else filled with sugar he could find on the menu.
you opened your mouth to speak, but then you abruptly glanced down at your chest, mouth pressing together as you sighed and slipped out of the booth, holding your arm's out to take your baby back. his baby back. "i think i'm about to start leaking. i'm gonna go feed him out in the car."
sukuna almost said that no one would give a shit if you fed him in here. but he knew you better. knew you'd never be comfortable with that - so he bit his tongue, not exactly pleased at the prospect of spending the next twenty minutes sitting here with gojo waiting for you to come back.
"her tits look fuckin' great, don't they?" satoru chirped the second you slipped out the door, loudly opening the bag and popping the first thing he pulled out into his mouth.
"shut the fuck up," sukuna snapped at him, scowling as he resisted the urge to strangle him.
the asshole was just trying to ragebait him.
and it was unfortunately working a little too well.
"can i ask you something?" gojo grinned, crumbs falling to the table as he spoke with a full mouth.
🔬 The most reassuring boyfriend in the world. Curls his hand gently around yours and with the most sincere eyes tells you, "You got this, babe. And you know you don't have to do it alone." Whatever it is, Ryland is by your side.
🔬 Floating zero g kisses! Grace says he wants to have a "Spider-Man moment" with you as he pulls you closer ❤️
🔬 Literally tries to learn to knit solely to make you a miniature rendition of your favorite animal when you admire his knitwear, little earth, and soft fiber student gifts. If you ask him about it before your surprise is complete, he just jokes, "I've got the time."
🔬 He is obsessed with doing your hair. Something about the simple intimacy of it, the feeling of taking care of you, Ryland just loves it. Whether you have a crazy teased and sprayed style a la the 80s, an easy comb-and-gel, an elaborate array of micro braids, liberty spikes, or a simple soft buzz cut he just shampoos and dries for you with no styling necessary (or none of the above 😉), your beloved science teacher will have you sitting in front of him, his hands so gentle as they work through cleaning your hair and making it look just the way you like it.
🔬Ganging up on you with Rocky. Suddenly they turn their bickering from each other to teasing you, but they love you so much they just can’t bear to be mean. Teasing you about the one entire thing you left out like Grace isn’t the messy roomie or just that you’re too nice before Rocky gives up entirely and joins you, making your boyfriend put on a silly mock betrayal act with a soft smile.
🔬 Tries to do the sexy lean against the wall thing to you and miscalculates, falling over spectacularly in a way Rocky never lets him forget even though you reassured him it was cute.
🔬 It’s his favorite when either of you lays on the other’s chest; something about listening to each other’s heartbeats is really romantic to him.
🔬Once you’re on the Mary, he absolutely uses the “You’re out of this world” pickup line. Yes you both crack up and can’t stop laughing for a solid minute or two before you finally kiss.
🔬 Feeds you little bites of noodles while you eat together and even tries recreating the Lady and the Tramp moment. Rocky thinks he’s a freak for this and you have to hastily explain otherwise.
🔬When you were on earth, Mr. Grace’s students absolutely freaked out the one time you stopped by to bring him his lunch. You became a celebrity, practically a schoolwide cryptid and he had to field questions for the entire day. He tells you all the time how much his students love you despite the fact that you said so little to them.
🔬Also on earth, but you know those posts about boyfriends that have big long notes of every restaurant and cafe order of their partner? Yeah, that is one hundred percent Ryland Grace. All your orders, your favorite flowers, gifts you’ve mentioned wanting, are all in one place for him to scroll through.
🔬If work in the lab has been stressing you out or he can tell you feel ignored, he’ll grab his stuffed fox and make it “talk to you” to cheer you up and warm the mood before he pulls you back into his attention and conversation. That little guy on your shoulder with his little voice does ease the tension every time.
🔬 Even if you and Ryland fight, he never raises his voice at you or shows you the side of him that was calling people wastes of carbon; instead he’ll bite his tongue and just give you the silent treatment for a bit until he cools off and apologizes, calling himself an ass before you even can.
🔬 Lets you win games a lot. Denies it when Rocky points it out.
🔬Run your hands over his chest and he’ll be weak. Points it out when you’re trying to persuade him, but still gives in.
🔬Get ready to build lego sets together! …A LOT of lego sets 😌 If you guys have seen the recent-ish Evolution of Stem set you’ll know what I’m talking about, but you buy Ryland that and he ADORES IT. He also really loves the video game sets that actually move, especially the Super Mario one.
🔬You teased him once that when he gets older he’ll be a ‘silver fox’, tugging on his cardigan slightly, but you caught him a while later smiling to himself and muttering the phrase with a hint of pride. Oh, boy!
🔬When he gets needy he tends to just sort of put his hands on your hips and rest his head against your chest or shoulder, silently getting extra affectionate and hoping you notice.
🔬 Sometimes accidentally uses his classroom habit and calls you 'Missy/Mister/Mixter' when he's trying to stop you from messing with shit before blanking out and realizing. Just like with the wall, he makes to apologize but you're just laughing.
🔬 If you're cool with it, Ryland would love to marry you, even if it is outside the Earth legal system, actually moreso in that case. To him it's a pure celebration of your love and dedication that carries no weight or binding, only a deep meaning to you two and of course the Eridians hosting the beautiful beach ceremony.
Reply/Ask/Message to be tagged in any future posts 🖤
SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER | roommates to lovers, smut, SOMNO, fingering, piv, DUBCON, size kink. 2k words. for my sweet @kentwos
He hears your little whimpers through the thin walls of your shared apartment, and they keep him awake at night.
You're a good roommate. You keep the place clean, and you don't ask him why he leaves for weeks and months at a time. You often "accidentally" make too much food when he's home, tentatively knocking on his door and asking him if he's hungry.
You rarely have guests over during the few weeks he's home a year, and you don't seem to mind that he spends most days at home, smoking like a chimney on the balcony and lounging on the couch watching mindless TV.
But the walls are thin.
You must not have realised he's just returned from a deployment tonight, because he hears you stumble through the living room, giggling. He hears a male voice, and he hears the way your giggles turn into moans when the mystery man kisses you.
Now he's listening to the bed creaking and your muffled whimpers.
The bloke barely lasts 10 minutes.
Simon can't sleep for the rest of the night. His back is acting up, and a migraine is definitely on its way, and his tinnitus seems worse than usual.
He listens to your quiet voices in the morning, listens to the front door open and close again.
Your feet padding across the floor.
Three knocks.
"Si?"
You peek your head in, and he looks at you.
"Hi," you say, a smile growing on your lips. "I didn't realise you were home."
"I figured," he replies, and you instantly become flustered, your eyes widening.
"Oh my god," you say, your mind catching up. He can tell the way embarrassment washes over you as you groan, putting your hand over your eyes. "Please tell me you didn't hear anything."
When he doesn't reply, you sigh loudly before stepping into his room and plopping onto his bed. Years of living together has made you overly familiar with him. He doesn't have the heart to correct it.
He doesn't want to.
"Please pretend it didn't happen," you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
Simon looks back at you. There's a hickey on your neck, one that makes his molars hurt. He doesn't like that someone got to have you like that, in the way he so desperately wants. Got to sink their teeth in what's rightfully his.
"You're a grown woman," he states. "You can do whatever you want."
"Yeah, but I didn't mean for you to hear it!"
You push off the bed, but Simon is quick to grab your arm, pulling you back down. You land nearly on top of him with an "oomf", blinking at him, eyes filled with confusion.
"Was it good?"
"What?"
Your mind seems to struggle to catch up with what's happening, and you open your mouth before closing it again. Simon motions to the hickey on your neck. He wraps his hands around your throat, his thumb digging into the purple mark. Your mouth falls open.
"Was he at least a good shag?"
You flush, but you don't pull away this time.
"Did you even come?" he asks, and the way you pout tells him everything he needs to know.
"No," you say hesitantly.
"Why not?"
"I don't know," you say, hiding your face in his duvet. He lets go of your throat, patting your head instead. "His dick was big, but he didn't really know what to do with it."
Your voice is slightly muffled from the duvet, and your grip is tight around the fabric. You're clearly embarrassed. If anyone should be embarrassed, it's the bloke who failed to make you finish.
Simon feels lightheaded with the way his blood rushes south. He feels himself chub, and he imagines how you'd work to take his cock, how you'd struggle to adjust. How he'd target your sweet spot till you're crying.
"I bet," he says, grabbing you again so he can pull you on top of him. He knows you're feeling his erection, but he can't bring himself to care. "Most guys barely know what to do with pretty things like you."
"What, as if you know better?"
You're teasing him, but to Simon it's all the invitation he needs. He slips his hand underneath the waistband of your shorts, grinning when he finds you wet already. He doesn't waste time, gathering your slick before bullying two fingers into your soft pussy.
He groans at the way your walls give for him, adjusting with ease. Your pretty doe eyes go wide when he curls his fingers and finds your gspot, reaching deeper than you could ever hope to with your own fingers.
"Si," you whimper, clinging to him. He hums as he thrusts his fingers into you, revelling in the sound of your wet cunt filling the room.
You come embarrassingly quick, warmth curling in your stomach as you finish with a drawn-out moan. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grind your hips erratically into his hands, drawing out your high. Pleasure curls through you from your core all the way to your toes.
"Good girl," Simon drawls, watching the way you twitch. He pulls his fingers out of your warm pussy, licking his fingers clean before patting your arse.
You blink sleepily at him. Post orgasm glow makes your brain foggy, especially with the way your roommate is looking at you, licking his lips hungrily.
"That was a way better shag than him," you say, giggling, but your eyes are droopy. You don't hear his response as you rest your head on his chest, drifting away.
He should've kept his cool, and not immediately finger fucked you into oblivion the second he got home. But the fact that you were with another man, just behind that thin wall between your rooms, made him lose his cool.
And now he's paying for it.
It's fair for you to hook up with others. He's barely home. He's not your boyfriend, he's your roommate. He's a soldier.
He's starting to realise he can't keep a clear head when he's with you. He doesn't want to wait. The long game isn't worth much when it comes to pretty girls like you. He'd rather just get it over with and make you realise you're stuck with him. That you're done with quick disappointing fucks once he gets to sink his teeth into you.
He goes to the pub with Soap and Gaz. It's rare for all three of them to be home at the same time, and Soap and Gaz are taking advantage, downing pints and talking away. Simon mostly listens, until his mind wanders to you.
His pretty bird, all alone at home.
He gets up without saying anything, adjusting his crotch that's already chubbing. Soap hollers after him, but he dismisses him with a wave.
He doesn't quite want to share you. Not even with Soap.
Wearing his T-shirt to bed is a particularly cruel move on your end. Simon has to bite back a groan as he climbs over your sleeping body, straddling you from behind. He grinds his dick against your panty-clad arse while he leans over you.
You're sleeping, blissfully unaware. It makes him harder, as he takes out his dick, rubbing it between your arse cheeks. You quietly moan, subconsciously pushing back against him.
He slips his cock into your panties, using your thighs to stroke him. His cockhead pokes at your clit, and he feels you start to grow wetter with each push and pull of his hips.
You let out a tiny moan in your sleep, and Simon grunts as he leans over you, trapping you underneath his weight. He licks and bites at your throat, right where the hickey is starting to fade. He wants to erase it, make you forget there's ever been anyone other than him.
You wake with a jolt when he bites down particularly hard, and he feels you tense up beneath him as your mind catches up to what's happening. You scramble, but he's pressed up so close behind you that you're immobile.
"Jus' me, love," he murmurs, and you whine, attempting to look over your shoulder. He feels you relax, but then he starts to fuck your thighs again, and you tense again, gasping at the feeling of his cock nudging your clit.
"Si?" you ask, confusion and fogginess from your sleep making you struggle to realise what's happening.
"You were wearin' my shirt, doe," he says, kissing behind your ear. He slips one of his big hands underneath your shirt, cupping your tit and squeezing till you moan. "Couldn't help myself."
"Why didn't you, ah, wake me?" you whine, arching up into him so desperately it makes him dizzy.
In a quick motion, he flips you so he can see your face. Your pretty face is puffy, your lips all pouty as you sleepily blink up at him. He slips his cock into your knickers again, watching the light fabric darken with his precum.
"Didn't wanna interrupt your beauty sleep."
That makes you scoff, and he slaps your tit in response, making you gasp in surprise. Before you can tell him off, his cock catches your entrance, head popping inside your tight cunt, and you let out a strangled moan as you squeeze down on him.
"It's too big, Si," you whine, starting to back up, but he grabs your hip tightly, pulling you back onto his cock. He presses another inch inside you, brows furrowing at just how damn snug you are. He presses soothing circles into your clit with his thumb.
"You can take it," he says, nodding at you while you shake your head. "You're a big girl."
A pitiful whimper leaves you when he presses in yet another inch, and his eyes roll back at how warm you are inside.
You're rendered speechless as he slowly pulls in and out, making you take inch after inch. It stings, but pain mixes deliciously with pleasure as he thumbs your clit and licks and kisses your throat.
"How much more?" you ask, staring at your ceiling with knitted brows. The man on top of you rumbles as he kisses your lips, licking into your mouth.
"Halfway," he replies, and your eyes widen, because he's already splitting you in two. You look down to where you're connected, and a rush of arousal hits youwhen you see how his fat cock is practically bullying your poor pussy.
Simon must feel you clench, because he laughs.
"You're doing good, baby," he says, and your concerned eyes find his, looking for reassurance.
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh," he replies. Taking pity on you, he starts to fuck you like that, with only half of his cock. "My pretty baby,"
It's almost an art form. That he can fuck with half his inches and still have you writhing underneath him, whimpering each time his cock hits your sweet spot. Your cunt drools around his length, allowing him to slowly push further and further in, till you're taking him to the hilt without even realising. Too busy with your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Your orgasm creeps in on you, sweeping you underneath the waves of pleasure as you choke on air. Your cunt nearly squeezes the life out of him, and he leans over you, reminding you to breathe through it as you choke on a sob. You cling to him, digging your nails into his biceps, as he slowly fucks you through it till you're boneless beneath him.
Your eyes slip closed as sleep overtakes you again. It makes him groan, getting impossibly harder as he thrusts into you the last few times before spilling into your welcoming cunt.
He flips you around so you're on top of him, your poor pussy still stuffed with his cock and cum. Content, he gets the best sleep he has in years, despite the flare-up in his hip.
He doesn't know how long he's out for, but he wakes to the sweet sound of your moans. You're straddling him, bouncing on his cock with all your might. It must be hard on you, sweet thing. You're doing so well, though, despite your pinched brows. He traces his hand over your stomach, trying to feel himself in there.
You jolt when you realise he's awake, and a giggle escapes you.
"Good mornin', love," he rasps, and you lean down to kiss him. He grabs your hips, helping you ride him.
"Hi, Si," you say, pressing your lips to his. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," he murmurs, licking into your mouth. "Don't mind being woken like this, though," he adds.
Your cunt clenches around his length, and he grunts.
"You're gonna make me come like that," he says, and you moan into his mouth.
"Want it," you gasp, raking your nails over his scalp. "Inside,"
You don't have to tell him twice. He rubs your clit in messy circles, pulling you over the edge with him as he spills into you for the second time, pumping you full. You whine, swallowing his moans with your sweet kisses, as both of you grow sensitive.
When you pull off him, it's with a wet pop, cum spilling out of you. Simon watches the sight, satisfied with his claim.
What a perfect roommate he has.
hi i started writing this last night but i fell asleep halfway through (ironic) so here you have it. i only edited it like two times so if you find any mistakes ignore itttt ….
your ex boyfriend minotaur hypnotized you into getting back with him. it worked so well that he gives you a cow print lingerie and a breast growth/lactation potion and convinces you that you get really horney behaving like a cow. you love to get milked and bred by your bull.
The Bull's Milkmaid (minotaur x fem!human!reader!2nd!POV)
Trigger Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, hypnotic mind control, con non-con, lactation kink, breast growth, breeding kink, degradation, P in V, petnames (heifer, cow, sweetmeat), milking, oral (male receiving), size difference, psychological manipulation.
Summary: After your minotaur ex-boyfriend hypnotized you into returning to him, he's convinced you that you belong on your hands and knees in cow print lingerie, desperate to be milked and bred.
♡────── 🎀༘⋆──𐀔˚˖♡ ──────────── 🎀༘⋆──𐀔˚˖
The silk of the cow print bra cuts into the new weight of your tits, and you can't stop touching yourself through the matching panties. The spots are white against black satin, a costume he picked out himself, and the fabric strains across your swollen areolas. They're darker now. Wider. The potion he poured down your throat three nights ago saw to that.
You hear his hooves on the hardwood before you see him.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Your thighs press together instinctively, the wet heat between them spreading against the ruined gusset of your panties. You're kneeling on the faux fur rug he laid down in the bedroom—for your knees, he said, because good little cows need comfort when they wait for their bull.
The word bull makes your cunt clench around nothing. Makes your tits ache with the fullness building behind your nipples.
"Look at you." His voice rolls through the room. Deep. Gravel-thick. "My pretty heifer, all dressed up and leaking already."
You hadn't realized you were leaking.
Looking down, you see the twin dark circles blooming through the satin cups—one on each side, damp and spreading. Your nipples are hard and each throb of your heartbeat pushes another trickle of milk past the barrier of the fabric. The sensation makes you dizzy. Makes your mouth water.
"I didn't—" you start, but the words tangle on your tongue.
He kneels behind you, and his bulk blocks out the ceiling light. The heat of him washes over your back—that warmth he always carried, even before the hypnosis, even before you forgot why you left him in the first place. His hands find your shoulders. Squeeze. His thumbs press into the knots at the base of your neck.
"Didn't what, sweetmeat?" His muzzle brushes your ear, the coarse fur scratching your cheek. "Didn't mean to get wet? Didn't mean to lactate all over my good rug?"
"I can't control—"
"Course you can't." His laugh is a low rumble that vibrates through your spine and settles in your belly. "That's the point. You're not supposed to think anymore, remember? You gave that up. Gave everything up. Said you wanted to be my cow, didn't you?"
You did say that.
You remember saying it, though the memory feels like a dream you're watching from outside your own skull. You remember his voice going soft and hypnotic, remember the spiral he drew in the air with his fingertip, remember the way your thoughts just... dissolved. Like sugar in hot milk.
"Yes," you breathe. "I said that."
"And what does my sweet cow do?"
The question makes your cunt pulse. Makes your ass lift instinctively, presenting yourself the way he taught you. The way that makes his breathing go ragged and his cock swell against the seam of his leather trousers.
"Get milked," you whisper. "And bred."
His hand comes down on the curve of your ass, making you jolt forward onto your palms. The impact sends a shock through your clit, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning.
"Louder."
"GET MILKED AND BRED!" The words tear out of you, and the shame of them should burn, should wake you up from whatever fog he's wrapped around your mind, but instead it feels like coming home. Like finally saying something true.
"That's my girl." He reaches around and unhooks your bra. The straps slide down your arms, and your tits swing free—heavier than they were last week, heavier than they were yesterday. The potion is still working. Still filling you up from the inside. "Fuck, look at these."
He cups them from behind, his palms wide enough to hold both at once. His thumbs find your nipples and press, and milk sprays from the tips in thin white arcs that spatter against the rug. You watch the droplets soak into the faux fur and feel your brain short-circuit.
"Please," you whisper.
"Please what?"
"I need—" You can't finish. The words won't form. All you know is the pressure in your breasts and the emptiness between your thighs and the way his thumbs keep pressing, keep milking, keep making a mess of everything.
"You need what, heifer?" He pinches both nipples at once and tugs, and the sensation is so sharp and so good that you cry out. Milk runs down his fingers, down your stomach, pooling in your navel. "Use your words. I know you still have some left in that pretty head."
"I need you to fuck me."
He releases your nipples and you whine at the loss. Then his hands are on your hips, pulling your ass back against his crotch, and you feel the ridge of his cock through his trousers—thick and long and inhumanly hot. He grinds against you once, twice, and the friction against your soaked panties makes your eyes roll back.
"Beggars can't be choosers," he says. "You'll get milked first. That's the rule. Cows get drained before they get filled."
He pushes you forward until your chest is flat against the rug, your tits squashed beneath you, milk soaking into the fabric. Your ass stays up—he holds it there with one broad hand on your lower back. His other hand hooks into the waistband of your panties and rips them down your thighs. The satin tears like tissue paper.
"Spread."
You obey without thinking. Your knees slide wider, opening yourself to the cool air of the room, and you feel your pussy lips part, feel the wetness that's been gathering there since you woke up this morning, since you put on the lingerie he left on the dresser, since you heard his hooves in the hallway.
"Glistening," he groans. "Dripping down your thighs like a bitch in heat. You know what that does to me?"
You don't answer. You can't. Your face is pressed into the rug and all you can smell is milk and arousal and the musk of him, and your clit is throbbing.
His fingers find your cunt from behind—two of them, thick and calloused, sliding through your folds without resistance. You're so wet that you hear it. A slick, obscene noise that fills the silence. He circles your entrance without pushing in, just teasing, just making you ache.
"So eager," he murmurs. "And so empty. When's the last time you had a cock in here, sweetmeat?"
"Before I left," you gasp. "Before—before the hypnosis. Months."
"Months." He says it like a curse. Like an insult. "And you expect me to believe you didn't fuck anyone else while you were gone?"
"No. I swear. I couldn't—no one felt right. No one smelled right. I'd try and my body would just..." You shudder as his fingers press deeper, still not entering, just spreading your lips wider. "Would just dry up. Like it knew."
"Like it knew you belonged to me." He says it with absolute certainty. Because in his mind—in your mind now, too—it's true. Your cunt belongs to him. Your tits belong to him. The milk leaking from your nipples belongs in his mouth or on his cock or soaking into his rug, but it will never belong to anyone else.
"Yes," you sob. "Please. Please, I need—"
"You need to get milked." He pulls his fingers away and you hear him unbutton his trousers. The sound of his zipper makes your mouth flood with saliva. "You need to present your udders like a good heifer and let me drain every drop before I even think about breeding that empty cunt."
He kneels behind you, and then his body is covering yours—the weight of him, the heat, the fur of his chest pressing against your bare back. His cock slides between your thighs, not entering, just lying there against your slit, and you feel every inch of it. The ridge of the head. The vein that runs along the underside. The sheer size of it, thicker than your wrist, longer than your forearm.
"You feel that?" he asks. "That's what's going to fill you up when you've earned it. But first—" His hands come around to your chest, cupping your tits from behind. "First we deal with these."
He squeezes. Not gently. Not carefully. He squeezes like he's wringing out a cloth, and milk jets from your nipples in thick streams that splatter against the floor. The pressure release makes you sob with relief. Makes your whole body shake.
"There we go," he says, pulling you back against him and working your breasts with his palms, pressing from the outside in, forcing the milk out in rhythmic pulses. "That's it. Let it all out. Such a good cow, so full for me, so desperate to be empty."
Your nipples are raw and aching and you can't stop crying and moaning. From the way your body responds to his hands like it was built for this. For him.
"Please," you gasp. "Please, I need—"
"You need to tell me how it feels."
"Full. So full. It hurts—"
"It's supposed to hurt." He twists your nipples between his fingers and you scream. More milk sprays out, thinner now, the last dregs of the morning's accumulation. "That's how you know it's working. That's how you know your body is changing. Getting bigger. Getting better. Getting ready to feed my calves."
The word calves hits you. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Your hips buck backward against his cock.
"You want that, don't you?" His voice is soft, the hypnotic cadence creeping back in. "You want me to put a baby in you. Want your belly to swell while your tits keep growing. Want to waddle around this house with my seed dripping down your thighs."
"Yes."
"Say it properly."
"I want you to breed me! I want your cock inside me. I want you to come so deep that I can't—that I won't—"
"Won't what?"
"Won't ever forget who I belong to."
He pulls his hands away from your tits and you whimper at the loss. Then his fingers are in your hair, fisting the strands, pulling your head back until your spine arches and your throat is bared.
"Look at me," he says.
You do. You look into those yellow eyes, slit-pupiled and ancient, and you see nothing but hunger. Nothing but ownership.
"I'm going to fuck you now," he says. "And when I'm done, you're going to thank me. You're going to crawl to the kitchen and cook dinner. And then you're going to come back here and let me do it again. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, sir."
He releases your hair and your head drops forward. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, spreading you open. The head of his cock presses against your pusy—just the head, just the first thick inch—and you forget how to breathe.
"Look at that," he rasps. "Look how your cunt is trying to suck me in. You're drooling for it, aren't you? Making a mess all over my cock."
He pushes forward and your body stretches around him—too much, too fast, too big—and you whimper into the rug. Your inner walls clamp down on him, trying to push him out, trying to accommodate him, doing both at once and failing at both.
"Fuck," he groans. "You're tight. Tighter than I remember. That's what happens when you leave me for months, sweetmeat. Your cunt forgets its job."
"I'm sorry," you sob. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"
"I know you are." He pulls back until only the tip remains inside you, then slams forward again. Your vision whites out. Your fingernails rake through the rug. "That's why I'm going to remind you. Every day. Every night. Every time you think you can walk away from me, I'm going to fill this cunt until you can't remember your own name."
He sets a rhythm—not fast, not yet. Deep, dragging strokes that pull almost all the way out before shoving back in. Each thrust makes a wet squelch, your arousal slicking the way, and each withdrawal makes you clench around nothing, desperate to keep him inside.
"Listen to that," he says. "Listen to what a slutty little cunt sounds like when it's getting what it needs."
You hear it. The squelch and slap of his cock plunging into you. The ragged gasp of your own breathing. The low, animal sounds he makes with every thrust. He leans forward, pressing your chest harder into the rug, and his mouth finds your ear. His breath is hot and damp and smells like the mint he chews after meals.
"You're going to cum for me," he says. "And when you do, I'm going to feel it. Your cunt is going to squeeze my cock so hard I won't be able to move. And then I'm going to keep fucking you through it. Through every clench. Every spasm. Every time you think you're done, I'm going to fuck another one out of you."
"I can't—"
"You can." His hand slides between your body and the rug, finds your clit. The callus on his thumb rubs circles into the swollen nub and your hips buck backward, driving his cock deeper. "You can and you will. Come on my cock, heifer. Show me how much you missed me."
The pressure builds in your belly, all at once, like a dam breaking. Your cunt seizes around him, clenching so hard that he grunts, and the orgasm tears through you in ragged pulses that make your whole body shake.
"THERE," he snarls. "THERE it is. Squeeze me. Milk my cock with that greedy little cunt."
You can't speak. Can't think. Can only feel; the drag of his cock through your spasming walls, the relentless pressure of his thumb on your clit, the way your tits jiggle with every thrust, spraying the last drops of milk across the rug.
He doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down. He fucks you through the peak and past it, into the oversensitive place where pleasure and pain are the same thing, and you sob into the rug because you can't tell which one you're feeling anymore.
"Good," he says. "Good cow. Taking my cock so well. But we're not done yet."
He pulls out and you feel empty. Hollow. Your cunt gapes for a moment before clenching shut, and a rush of your own wetness drips down your thighs.
"Turn over."
You do. Your limbs are shaking so hard you can barely move, but you roll onto your back and look up at him. He's beautiful in the lamplight—the curve of his horns, the breadth of his shoulders, the dark fur that covers his chest and arms. His cock juts out from his body, slick with your arousal, the head dark and swollen.
"Open your mouth."
You obey. He kneels over you, straddling your chest, and guides his cock between your lips. The taste of yourself is sharp and salt-sweet, and you open your throat the way he taught you, taking him as deep as you can.
"Hands on your tits," he says. "Squeeze them while I fuck your face. Get the last of the milk out."
Your hands move. You cup your breasts—they feel foreign, too heavy, too full even after he drained them—and press. Milk dribbles from your nipples, running down your ribs, pooling in the hollow of your throat. He leans forward and laps at it, his tongue rough against your skin, and the vibration of his groan travels down his cock and into your mouth.
"This is what you are now," he says, pulling back to look at you. His cock slips from your lips and you gasp for air. "A pair of tits, a cunt and a mouth. That's all that's left of you. And you're happy about it, aren't you?"
You nod. Because it's true. Because the last scraps of who you used to be are buried so deep you can barely hear them screaming.
"Say it."
"I'm happy," you whisper. "I'm your cow. I exist to be milked and bred."
He smiles. "Then let's finish the job."
He flips you onto your stomach again—manhandles you like you weigh nothing, positions you on your hands and knees, and drives into you in one stroke. You scream into the rug and he covers your mouth with his hand, muffling the sound.
"Shh," he says. "You'll wake the neighbors. And then they'll hear what a slut you are. How loud you moan when your bull fucks you."
He pounds into you—fast now, relentless, the rhythm of a monster. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, and the wet sounds fill the room, obscene and constant. You feel everything. The stretch of your pussy around his cock. The ache in your nipples where milk still beads. The scrape of his fur against your back.
"I'm going to cum," he says. "I'm going to fill this cunt so full that you'll be dripping for days. And every time you feel it running down your thighs, you're going to remember who put it there."
"Please," you sob. "Please, please—"
"Please what? Please come inside you? Please breed you like the cow you are?"
"YES!"
He slams into you one last time and holds there, buried to the hilt, and you feel his cock pulse. Feel the hot rush of his come flooding your cunt—so much of it, too much, spilling out around his shaft and running down your thighs in thick white ropes.
He stays inside you while he finishes, his breath ragged against your neck, his body shaking with the force of his release. And when he finally pulls out, you feel the emptiness immediately. Feel his seed dripping from you, pooling on the rug beneath your knees.
"Good cow," he says, stroking your hair. "Now crawl to the kitchen. I want to see you cook."
You start to move. Your limbs are shaking, your thighs slick with his come, your tits aching and empty. Behind you, you hear him light a cigarette and exhale slowly.
"And after dinner," he says, "we're going to do that again. And again. Until you're so full you can't walk straight."
You crawl toward the kitchen and feel his seed dripping down your legs, and somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice is screaming.
But it's getting quieter now. Drowning in the milk and the come and the sound of his voice.
all you wanted was to bring simon his lunchbox, but the new recruits saw you as nothing more than an joke. they learn the hard way that no one can mess with the lieutenant's wife.
tags: hurt/comfort, angsty, wife!reader, husband!ghost, hurt!reader, simon riley is a devoted husband
the clock had long since struck midnight when simon finally made his way home. he eased himself onto the bed, careful not to make any noise, not wanting to wake you up. his muscles ached, his eyes burned after sleepless nights, but none of that mattered the moment he held you in his arms.
he placed a kiss on your forehead, soft, barely there, afraid to interrupt your sleep. his lips lingered a second longer than necessary, just breathing you in.
you smelled like home.
"i'm back." he whispered into the dark, more to himself than to you. he pulled the covers up a little higher over your shoulder, tucked you tightly beneath them, and finally let his heavy eyes rest.
the following morning you'd woken up early, before the sun had even rise to make him a warm meal.
the snow had been falling for days, making it hard for you to reach the military base. you clutched the lunchbox to your chest, your fingers numb from the fierce wind.
here you were now, fidgeting with your hands, as you slowly approached the base. you had been here before, once, when simon forgot some urgent documents in his office at home and asked you to deliver them.
the guard at the gate barely glanced at you before exclaiming "training yard's to the left," he said, his voice bored "lieutenant is probably there."
you thanked him with a whisper and made your way through the gates.
you spotted some recruits as you came to the proximity of the field.
"excuse me," you called softly, clearing your throat. "i'm looking for lieutenant riley."
a young soldier turned, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, probably wondering what were you doing in a place like that. he was taller than you, double your size, but not as big as simon, and his piercing eyes made you shiver.
"and you must be?" the soldier sneered, his tone dripping with arrogance. "do you think anyone can meet him?"
"i-i'm here to bring him his lunch," you said, showing him the bag that was held tight to your chest.
the soldier turned around, exchanging a glance with his friend. "his lunch? you his personal errand girl?"
the other recruit laughed, joining the teasing. "im sure lieutenant doesn't need a little thing like you bringing him food. he's got proper food here. not whatever home cooked rubbish you've got in there."
your cheeks flushed, heat rising to your face. "it's not uhm... like that. he forgot it this morning. i just wanted to-" you began to stutter, avoiding their mocking gaze.
"you wanted to what? speak louder won't ya?" the first soldier stepped closer, leaning down to reach your eye level "a stupid girl who can't even make a simple sentence without stuttering wants to see him? you think you're special?"
"i-i'm his wife," you managed to say but you could feel your eyes begin to well up.
the soldiers stared at you for a moment, then burst into laughter. the sound was loud and mocking, echoing through the corridors. "right," the first one said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "and i'm the captain. nice try, love. lieutenant riley doesn't have a wife. everyone knows that."
you wanted to correct him but got quickly interrupted.
"look, sweetheart," the second recruit cut in, "we don't have time for this. he's a busy man." he gestured vaguely to the gates "you need to leave. now."
"b-but I'm telling you the truth," you said, your voice trembling. "i'm n-not lying."
the first soldier rolled his eyes. "you're not authorised to be here," he said, his voice hardening. "if you don't leave on your own, we'll have you escorted out."
"i-i have a pass," you said, fumbling in your pocket. "i have a visitor's pass. see?" with shaking hands, you held your pass.
the soldier snatched it from your hand, glancing at it briefly before tossing it to the ground. "probably stolen," he said dismissively.
"get the fuck out now." the second soldier said, as he grabbed your arm and began pushing you toward the gate.
you stumbled, falling down on your butt, then the gate was slamming shut behind you.
you stood there, frozen. you reached for your phone to call your husband but it wasn't there. in a hurry to leave the house, you left it on the kitchen counter.
this is why ghost always tells you to be more careful with your belongings.
"clumsy little girl." was what simon would often call you.
the snow continued to fall, piling up around you. you were going to freeze out here.
you were so cold you could barely hear a distant voice calling your name.
the voice was low and behind his mask you saw a strangely familiar face. you lifted your head, your vision blurry with tears and snowflakes, and found yourself staring at a bearded man. his dark eyes were the only thing you could see.
"oh, john." you breathed, and then you were sobbing. "i...they didn't believe me...i couldn't...i just wanted to bring him lunch and they-"
"hey, it's alright," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. he stepped forward, shrugging off his heavy coat and draping it over her shoulders. it was too big, swallowing you whole, but it was warm. "come on. let's get you inside."
he led you through the gate once again, past the recruits who had just thrown you out. price didn't say a word to them, but the look he shot them held a lot of warnings.
the captain guided you to a chair, sat you down, and knelt in front of you.
"are you hurt?" he asked, checking for any possible injury.
you shook your head, scared your voice would betray you. "j-just c-cold. r-really cold."
price's eyes hardened. "i'll take care of it."
he pulled out his phone and called simon.
the recruits were still in the yard when ghost appeared, and the shift in the atmosphere was immediate. his mask was pulled tight, but it did nothing to conceal the fury radiating from his posture.
"which one of you," he said, his voice low and threatening, "did it?"
the first recruit, the one who'd laughed at you, tried to play it cool. "lieutenant, there was some woman trying to get in, claimed to be your wife. i mean its ridiculous, uh? but i handled it."
"you handled it," ghost repeated, with a nod; his voice flat, emotionless. "you fucking handled my wife."
the colour drained from the recruit's face. "sir, i didn't, we didn't know-"
"i will deal with you later." simon spat out, not sparing them another glance.
he crossed the yard in a few long strides, his hands shaking with fury. he found you in the common room, wrapped in price's coat. you were still clutching the lunchbox, and the sight of it, the sight of you being so pitiful, nearly made him lose the control.
his hands found your waist, and then you were pulled into his arms, crushed against his chest so tightly you could feel the frantic beating of his heart. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, the fabric of his mask damp and warm against your skin, and wrapped his arms around you like he was afraid you'd dissolve if he loosened his grip even a bit.
he pulled you into his arms, crushing you against his chest.
"sweetheart," he breathed, the word cracking somewhere in his throat. "i'm sorry. fuck."
"it's okay," you whispered, your fingers clutching his shirt. "y-you're here."
"no, it's not alright." he pulled back, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "i will never, ever let that happen again."
he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes closed. his fingers were stroking your cheeks, trying to warm you.
he scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, and carried you toward his quarters. his arms were strong and steady, as you whimpered from the cold.
"price," he called over his shoulder, "round them up. i'll deal with them properly later."
the door to his quarters closed behind you, and simon set you down gently on his chair. he knelt in front of you, his hands working to unzip your coat, to peel off the wet layers.
"bastards," he cursed under his breath. "i'll kill them all."
you flinched, but were too exhausted to speak, so you let him wrap you in his clothes, and hold you until the shaking stopped. wrapped by simon's thick scent and his body warmth, you soon fell asleep from the exhaustion.
outside, the recruits stood shivering in the yard, watching the snow pile up around their boots.
ghost quickly crossed the yard, his face a mask of cold fury, and grabbed the first recruit by the throat.
simon's fist quickly connected with the soldier's jaw, a sickening crack echoing through the silent yard. then he turned to the second one, the one who'd grabbed your arm.
"your turn." the man tried to run, but price was there, blocking his path. ghost caught him by the collar, dragging him back, and drove his feet into his stomach. one kick, two kicks, until he collapsed, unconscious, into the snow.
"get them off my base," he said to john.
and from that day on, whenever you walked into the base, every soldier snapped to attention, avoiding looking at you, because they all knew, without a single doubt, that simon riley would kill to ensure your safety.
Demon!Simon Riley who you summoned as a last resort. You were having problems with an ex-boyfriend stalking you and the police weren’t doing anything. One of your friends had jokingly suggested the dark arts, but at this point, you were desperate. You didn’t know what the hell you were saying when you read off an old spell from the internet and felt like freaking Elphaba in Wicked when she’s chanting from her weird magical book
Demon!Simon Riley glanced down when summoned. He had just materialised in a random living room all of a sudden standing in a pentagram. “You know,” he said in a gruff voice to the terrified-looking mortal, “you don’t have to do the pentagram shit. It’s meaningless.”
Demon!Simon Riley couldn’t help but smirk as you fainted. It was a valid reaction from a mortal, he supposed, who had no idea the supernatural world existed, and had just witnessed a creature appear in their home
Demon!Simon Riley still stood at 6 feet 3 inches and could have passed as a normal man, albeit a very buff and bulky man, if it weren’t for the black mass that covered his head. It didn’t look like a mask, but instead an aura escaping him that screamed danger. Now that he thought of it, that was probably the reason you had passed out
Demon!Simon Riley waited around until you came to. He was sitting on your couch, flipping through historical dramas on your TV. He had shifted slightly so the black aura around him had dimmed considerably. He didn’t say anything when he noticed you were waking up.
“Are you… an actual demon?” you couldn't help but ask
Demon!Simon Riley snorted and replied sarcastically, “no, love, I’m just a regular human that appears whenever demonic incantations are read aloud.” He picked the TV show The Great and you couldn't find any words. He grunted when he saw the outfits and when the title An Occasionally True Story popped up, he muttered, “yeah, obviously. That’s not what Catherine the Great looked like.”
Before you could ask if he had somehow met Catherine the Great, he turned towards you. “What do ya need?” You still didn’t answer, mouth hanging open
Demon!Simon Riley sighed as you still didn’t answer. “Listen, love, I’m probably not gonna hurt you. At least not now, anyways. Depends on what you want. You mortals always want something.” It was clear he didn’t like conversation from how he didn’t say anything afterwards, just continuing to watch the TV show. It wasn’t until a long time later you told him of your ex-boyfriend
Demon!Simon Riley whose eyes narrowed and flashed pitch black when he heard of your plight. He had seen the horrors of man throughout the years and it seemed like it hadn’t gotten any better in the last few centuries.
You were explaining how you didn’t know what Simon wanted from you in return when he held up a hand. “I’ll take care of it,” he said
Demon!Simon Riley felt his lips pull up into a small smile when you asked what the exchange would be. He shrugged and replied, “won’t torture you forever in Hell, birdie, if that’s what you’re worried about.” And then he was gone
Demon!Simon Riley showed up a little later, looking pristine. “All done, birdie,” is all he said before sitting back down on your couch to finish his TV show
Demon!Simon Riley, as it turned out, wasn’t intent on leaving. You spluttered and stammered, but he seemed rather content living with you. You weren’t sure what the hell was happening, but it wasn’t as if you were going to tell a demon to get the fuck out of your house
Demon!Simon Riley kinda became a part of your routine, oddly enough. It didn’t seem like he needed to eat or sleep, but still hung around your place. He would disappear sometimes (no more than a few hours at a time) before popping back into your life and scaring the shit out of you. You were getting horribly skittish about your sudden lack of privacy, no matter how much he tried to calm you down. (His way of calming you down turned out to be staring at you until you stopped hyperventilating)
Demon!Simon Riley didn’t talk much, which was why it was terrifying when he suddenly just materialised in your kitchen sometimes, beginning to cook a dish from the 13th century that he suddenly remembered. He seemed to have an infinite supply of whatever he wanted and always refilled your fridge, which in this economy, you weren’t complaining about
Demon!Simon Riley was so odd to have around. It seemed surreal and every day you woke up, unsure if it was all a dream
Demon!Simon Riley certainly was not a dream and he made it very clear by getting almost too comfortable. You weren't sure if it was because you summoned him in your own home and he was somehow now tied to it, but he was acting like he would never return to Hell now. You almost wanted to call the friend who recommended this in the first place and curse her out
Demon!Simon Riley was determined to catch up on everything he had missed within the last centuries. He used your library card and began reading through the books you had at home while also using your subscriptions for shitty TV
Demon!Simon Riley was pretty quiet. He didn’t talk a ton, but when he did, it was sarcastic remarks about how humans had changed or stayed the same. He particularly liked watching shows about Satan or religion and just ripping it apart in a steady, low monotone. You got sort of used to hearing him grumble about the inaccuracies as you were working
Demon!Simon Riley randomly gave you little bouquets of flowers or precious jewels. You weren’t sure where he got them, but when a diamond necklace suddenly appeared on your coffee table with no explanation, you wanted to ask if it was made out of condemned souls
Demon!Simon Riley also somehow kept the entire house clean? It seemed a bit counterintuitive, since he was a spawn of Hell, but it was nice not having to dust
Demon!Simon Riley began walking around shirtless which you couldn’t do anything about lest you confront the demon now living with you
Demon!Simon Riley who sat on your couch, shirtless, and reading
Demon!Simon Riley knew what he was doing. Asshole.
Demon!Simon Riley, as said before, was 6’3” and just muscle. He had a layer of fat on him that made his tummy roll when he sat down and looked delicious. His biceps seemed like perfect chew toys and his thighs squished out whenever sitting. It was like he knew when you were ovulating
Demon!Simon Riley called you birdie and love
Demon!Simon Riley just wouldn’t go away. You weren’t sure that the age-old demon knew what overstaying was or how to take a hint, but it didn’t seem like it. Eventually, you had to sit him down and lay out the problem. After you were done, he sat there, quiet. After a while, you had to ask, “are you okay?” You weren’t sure if a demon could feel emotions, but you wanted to try
Demon!Simon Riley sat back on the couch and crossed his arms in the AC/DC hoodie he had somehow got. “I thought you liked having me around,” he muttered. You were quick to assure him that you did, it was just a bit weird sometimes and you wanted to know if there was an end date
Demon!Simon Riley shrugged. “I got you those flowers,” he mumbled. You told him that they were very nice and you really did appreciate all the gifts. “I was in the middle of Bridgerton,” he continued in his rough voice. Then, he stood. “But I’ll go.” Before you could protest, he was gone.
It was an adjustment, to say the least, to have him gone. You had gotten so used to him popping up that going without him for long stretches of time felt unnatural. You somewhat expected him to just reappear one day, but it didn’t seem likely. His presence had become a welcome constant and you missed having someone to bitch about your coworkers with. He knew all of the drama about the HR lady. You lasted for all of four days
Demon!Simon Riley was summoned back and this time, you didn’t faint. He looked rather nonplussed when he reappeared in the pentagram, as if he was practically pouting, but that faded when you quickly hugged him
Demon!Simon Riley said, “you still don’t need the pentagram.”
That night, you sat down with him to watch Bridgerton with him. It seemed to be one of his favourite shows, oddly enough. It wasn’t long before you noticed some trends. Bouquets of flowers appeared in the show as did jewelry and you gave him a side-eye when you recognised his actions as old courting rituals
Demon!Simon Riley simply shrugged and said, “I didn’t think you would want an eternal globe of hellish fire. I settled for flowers.”
Demon!Simon Riley whose eyes turned black when you had sex
there’s something price doesnt understand about having a wife. in sickness and in health, those are what the vows said, and yet when you feel frail, with taking care of your daughter yourself, he barely cares. you’re his wife, you’re supposed to keep the house clean and a nice dinner on the table when he comes home. and a warm cunt for him, that’s. the whole point of you.
he never stays at home, he’s always on base. fucking his secretaries. your daughter grows into her teenage years never having her father around, angry at him, fighting him on your behalf. you’re too tired to deal with him, your life force sapped away with your husband’s lack of care. even before he was a captain, back when you’d married him as a sergeant.
there’s something simon could never understand about having a family. he’s always around these days, especially since he’s gotten that promotion to captain. after your divorce to his former co, he’s around your house much more often, teaching your daughter kung fu in the back garden whilst you chop vegetables and watch through the kitchen. it’s because he’s never had a wife, or a family, and yet he’s the one driving you around. he’s the one taking beautiful pictures of you, he’s the one who you invite on vacation.
you want to marry him, but the third degree burns your ex husband left on your heart match the same ones simon’s family’s death left on his.
That one sad writer @samanddeansannoyingsis - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
