Last year I started designing a series of Coat of Arms, themed in the spirit of Pride Month and using different mythological creatures as heraldic animals. I now aim to turn these designs into wearable pins and will be running a Kickstarter in July to fund this endeavor! I have found a very trustworthy local manufacturer, who has already shown the quality of their craftsmanship with the first batch of test pins I received, just look at the detail they were able to produce!
Since I try to support local manufacturers, which produce pins with fair wages and are more ethical than outside of Europe, the pins are more expensive to create than through the usual pipeline via Asia.
I therefore seek to crowdfund the expenses since they would be more than I can afford. If you are interested and look forward to support this little endeavor, please follow the link below to sign up for a mailing list. People who signed up on the email list and pledged during the campaign will receive an exclusive sticker set by the end of a successful launch consisting of the following designs:
SIGN UP ON OUR PRELAUNCH WAITING LIST TO GET THESE LITTLE GUYS FOR FREE
Our Kickstarter Prelaunch Page:
A collection of Pride themed Coat of Arms Enamel Pins. Rally your friends, choose your crest and celebrate with PRIDE.
he’s sitting on the couch watching television when you walk into the room after getting back from work.
when you finally reach the couch, you immediately snuggle into him and all he says is, “is that all i get?”
you turn your head to look at him.
“what do you mean?” you ask softly.
“i haven’t seen you all day, don’t you wanna give your daddy a kiss?”
you quirk your eyebrows at him before laughing.
“you’re so gross,” you say as you shove him gently but his gaze stays locked on yours.
you know that look, that stupid smirk that doesn’t leave his face, he’s going to get what he wants because at the end of the day you're still weak for him.
you roll your eyes and kiss him softly, and that’s when he knows he’s in.
he starts sneaking it into casual conversations after that, always referring to himself as your “daddy” and you laugh, brushing him off as just teasing you.
but it gets worse when he starts using it in the bedroom.
you start acting out?
“come on, love. don’t you wanna be good for daddy, hm?” he says in that soft voice and it has you melting.
he knows just how to break you. he knows you love when you talks to you in that gentle voice of his. he also doesn't forget the way you subconsciously lean your cheek into his hand when he strokes it softly.
always so sweet for him.
he also is incredibly patient.
it doesn’t matter how much his pants tighten when he watches you squirm in front of him because you’re too embarrassed to ask him to fuck you. he’s going to wait, however long it takes.
john makes you use your words. if you don’t say anything, you won’t get anything.
"you gonna tell daddy what you want?"
he looks at you expectantly with a smug look on his face as he feeds off your embarrassment.
when you finally give into him, a pitiful "please touch me, daddy" leaving your lips, he smiles cockily before he leans down to kiss you roughly and his hand wraps around your throat holding you in place.
You got dumped by your boyfriend of three years on a Wednesday morning and by Thursday night you were riding König’s cock in his barracks room after dinner. You’d spent years seeing its print, thick and heavy, against his tac pants so when you needed a quick rebound, he seemed like a no brainer.
He seems more than happy to fulfill all your needs now that you’re newly single. And god, does he fulfill every single fucking one. You can feel him in your belly when he thrusts himself balls deep and your civilian ex-boyfriend couldn’t match his stamina if he was on steroids.
You spend a few weeks getting better dick than you have in years until König, (so pussy-drunk his brain was barely functioning), let slip an “I love you” as he came inside you. Turns out you saw him as a massive cock, a pair of pretty blue eyes, a supplier of earth-shattering orgasms and a bit of non-rapey affection; he saw you as his future wife, the only woman he’s ever truly loved.
After a few days of König silently crying himself to sleep and you dutifully giving him space, he crawls back to you in agony, promising to keep his feelings to himself if you let him back in your bed. And you do, because König’s lack of self respect isn’t your problem and sex like this is too good to pass up.
He swallows your moans like they’re compliments, pretends you’re his when you let him hold your hands in missionary and fucks you like he loves you, because he does. He eats up every crumb of affection you throw at him and pretends he’s full even when his stomach is growling for more.
He saves all his tears for when you redress and sneak out the door, flush-faced and satisfied. You own his dick and his heart but you only ever wanted the first one and he’s too much of a pleaser to not give you what you want.
SIMON "GHOST" RILEY having an unhinged wife would be the best bloody thing in the world.
The weather is radiant, the sun is high in the sky, the wind is slight and pleasantly chilly. Price, Kyle and Johnny are standing near the grill when Simon, as the man of the house, grills the meat.
"Think sausages're good." He says.
"I'd rather have yours." You respond instantly.
The easiness with which you said that, as if it was a rare occurrence, makes Kyle pause while taking a sip of beer. Johnny looks mortified. Price thinks he misheard.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Disgustingly loving sex (sorry). Soft dom!Simon Talks You Through It™️ Creampie. Brief mention of Reader’s insecurities w sex
Note: I’m on Instagram now (kinda), come say hi :-)
Word count: 2.1k
It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried before.
You’d had your fair share of lovers and experienced more than a good deal of fun. With everyone in the past, climax came the same way, every single time: clitoral stimulation, and clitoral stimulation alone.
By this point in your life, you suspected your g-spot was probably just a figment of your imagination, no more real than Atlantis, Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.
That was, until, you met your boyfriend, Simon.
And things had only been official for a week.
You and him had fooled around a handful of times—made love, as he called it, and kissed and cuddled and occasionally dry-humped until the two of you were both panting, groaning messes—but all of this was new. Simon was still learning you, as you were him.
He finished between your tits. You came on his tongue. He fingered you to the point of tears, and you learned how to touch his sac just right to get him to blow his load in seconds. On this night in particular, you were fucking missionary, and holding hands while you did.
Lovesick puppies, Price would say. Neither one of you seemed able to unglue your lips or unlace your fingers or keep your hips from colliding again and again and again in frantic search of the other’s furthest depths. You were perfectly wrapped up, with no desire to move
Except, you needed to reach down between your bodies to actually get off. That was a minor detail.
You didn’t think the man above you would mind if you moved your touch from his, but then that grip tightened the second you tried pulling away.
“Keep it there, lovie. Like holding you like this,” he said.
You enjoyed it, too. It was intimate, and sweet, and with your hands pinned on either side of you, locked securely in his, you felt safe. You just couldn’t finish.
“But I…I need to come,” you whispered against him. You rolled your hips and felt his cock twitch inside you.
Simon grunted, then swallowed. Nodded slowly.
“Yeah. I’ll get you there. Feel this?”
He slid deeper for emphasis.
You didn’t.
You rarely did, or at least not in the way you figured you were supposed to get when something pressed there.
“I think…sort of, yeah,” you hedged your answer.
Don’t bruise his ego, don’t hurt his feelings.
This is all on me, Si, I promise it’s not you.
Cutting in over your thoughts, Simon moved swiftly. Took your hips in his big, strong hands, lifted up, and plunged his cock to the hilt. The girth of him was enough to knock the air out of your lungs, and you felt your walls stretch, sting, and weep sweet liquid warmth around that intrusion. You moaned.
“Better?” The man’s question was simple.
Before you could answer it, he was sliding a pillow underneath your backside. Sawing his long, thick, leaking cock in and out of you, he reached a new spot.
You made a face, feeling good from that but…strange.
Simon snatched your hands up again and planted them beside your head on the mattress. He thrusted steadily. He peppered kisses all over your face and your neck while the bed frame squeaked in time, and you had to dig your heels into his ass to ground yourself.
“Talk to me, baby. Can’t make it better if you don’t.”
“I—I know, I just can’t—”
At the same time, Simon tilted your hips slightly once more, and the tip of his cock kissed something soft and wet and dizzyingly pleasurable inside your body. A loud, embarrassing cry slipped out between your lips.
You wanted to clap a hand over your mouth, hating the way you’d just sounded, but your fingers were stuck to his. Simon grinned down at you, toothy and approving.
“Can’t do what, now, darlin’?”
The warm, bulbous head of his cock had found its mark, and he just kept prodding that spot, like it entertained him to do it. The fingers laced between your own constricted their grip even more, and Simon leaned down to kiss you while his cock carved a mind-numbing path. In between kisses, he praised you.
“That’s my girl. She’s likin’ it now, isn’t she?”
“Feel good when my cock hits that spot?”
“Your pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby.”
But still, somehow, it just wasn’t quite enough.
Maybe you’d never found that place after all.
This was where most men gave up—after a few good minutes of fucking when their balls had gotten to be as swollen as stones and their bodies were aching for release, more often than not, they’d go off chasing their own high. That was when you usually started rubbing your clit, or waited for your partner to finish so they could get you off with their tongue or something.
You hated to feel like a burden, and you really despised the thought of being the reason your sweet Simon couldn’t get to orgasm. So you squirmed again.
Straining to reach down, to try and touch yourself, you whimpered, “Si, please, it just—it takes me too long—”
“Good thing we’ve got all night,” Simon replied bluntly.
Then, once again, he twisted your bodies like you were as soft and malleable as putty in his hands, and this time, he hitched one of your legs around his hip, high.
With one slow-rolling thrust and an audibly squelching sound, Simon’s cock stretched your hole to maximum capacity, and then a little more. Your juices leaked down his shaft, aiding the slide, and he stabbed in a few shallow strokes. Probing. Testing the waters, as if he were trying to find something hidden inside you.
You sucked in a breath. Simon’s gaze slid to yours.
“Let’s find that precious spot, lovie. Easy, now.”
Gently coaxing your body open, he drove a slow, measured pace. He split your cunt like it was the easiest thing in the world, delving within your wet, velvety heat to tease every contour and crevice of your pussy. His tip leaked precome. His balls glistened in your arousal and landed with the gentlest plap, plap, plaps while he explored your insides with his member.
It really was as simple as that, nothing more and nothing less than poking around. Having patience.
“S-Si,” you stammered, nose wrinkling slightly.
“What’s’at, baby? Got something to tell me?”
Like a teacher, almost, he pressed for more.
Like his cock was showing you something new about your body but he needed your help to tell him just how and where to find it, Simon took care to be kind. He smoothed a hand over the crown of your head and then cradled the back of it, one massive set of fingers splayed out against your skull and engulfing it wholly.
He still held onto your other hand tight.
Your cunt pulsed. Ached. Fluttered around him.
Stuffed to the brim, you had only to feel, and murmur:
“Higher.”
“Higher?”
“Um, to the…to the left.”
Simon tilted his hips left.
Yes.
That was just it. So close.
Almost…
Or, maybe…
“Maybe it just…isn’t there,” you huffed out, deflating. “Know you’re trying so hard, baby, but I think I can’t—”
Then Simon hit the same spot as before, only higher.
Just like you’d told him: to the left, and then…
“Oh, fuck,” you cursed. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck.”
The grin above you stretched even wider.
“There, lovie?” Simon goaded you on.
“Right there.” You nodded furiously.
A wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, from your core down to the soles of your feet. Your toes curled, and you squeaked, feeling Simon’s cock graze that soft, spongy, sensitive place—except he’d pushed in deeper. The sensation made your eyes roll back.
“Little dove doesn’t mind my pokin’ after all, huh?” Simon’s words were a tease, but you heard a strain in them, too. The second you were caught in the throes of real pleasure, your cunt must’ve clamped like a vice.
“Keep…keep pokin’, Si,” you choked out. “I like it.”
Your lover kept at it—poking from the inside.
The routine almost felt like losing your virginity all over again, together. Simon cradled your head, told you how good you were doing, how sweet you were for him, and you whimpered under his hold. Squirmed and clung to him for dear life, then kissed him feverishly.
Simon’s mouth was hard and hungry, his thrusts deep. His cock throbbed within the wet, clenching confines of your pussy, and he seemed to be going wild at the feeling. With the idea that he was driving you wild, too.
You realized as much when he whispered it to you.
“Could lose my bloody mind when you’re like this—” Another sharp, labored breath. Another shudder passing through his body when your insides squeezed. “—so why didn’t you talk? Ask for what you needed?”
Your voice was small. “Didn’t wanna be a bother.”
Your eyes were locked with Simon’s, and in his irises, you caught a shade of concern. It flared, hot as anything, then mixed with disbelief. Disappointment.
“Don’t be angry, Si, I—” you started, hurried.
“‘M’not.” Simon blinked. But he gritted his teeth, and he withdrew his cock until the head was bumping and teasing between your folds, then he shook his head. “It’s those fuckin’ pricks who should be sorry, yeah?”
The ones that you’d been with before.
You wanted to protest, insist that you were at least partly to blame, but you never got the opportunity.
Simon was back inside you in a blink.
Hitting that same spot again, and again, and again.
He grinned, the tic of a muscle in his jaw telling you that he was less amused this time around, but proud.
Vindicated.
“Well. It’s not like they’re ever gettin’ a chance in between these pretty legs again, are they, lovie?”
You nodded in agreement.
You smiled back at him, only to have that gentle curve falter a little when you felt Simon’s thrusts accelerate.
“Only thing that’s gonna touch this spot other’n my cock is my seed, splatterin’ all over your walls, right?”
When he gave a playful nip to your lower lip and squeezed your hand tighter, you knew that he meant it. The man had plunged so deep inside you that his pubic bone was now grinding against your skin, and the rest of him was buried. His balls, all full and warm and heavy with his release, rested firmly in your cleft.
And the steady, measured strokes of his cock landed with near-surgical precision on the G-spot you’d convinced yourself up until tonight didn’t exist.
Simon beamed. You were overcome with ecstasy.
“This it, lovie? This spot right ‘ere?” he cooed.
His cock bobbed against that gummy and indescribably dizzying place, causing your last moan to morph into something more akin to a shriek.
You nodded your head: “Y-Yes. Yes.”
“Feel good when I hit it?”
“Fucking perfect, Si.”
You sighed when the man bottomed out for what felt like the millionth time, and the pleasure never waned. He felt just as good now as he did when he first got in.
“Yeah? Gonna come on my cock then, pretty girl?”
“Yeah. I’m— I’m so close.”
“Go on then, love.”
And, shortly, you did.
Maybe three, four, five more stabs of his cock to your most precious, intimate place and you were unraveling beneath him, stars bursting in your line of vision. It seemed dramatic to say, but that was really what it came to—your mouth hanging open, eyes wide, gaze peering into Simon’s while he fucked you through the most intense orgasm of your life. You clung to him, and your walls spasmed again and again and again, milking the man’s release in the next few seconds. Simon shuddered and grit his teeth as he unloaded a thick, gooey load inside, dousing that spongy, body-numbing spot and then some. The two of you moaned in unison.
Your body was boneless, your head a hazy mess.
It took several seconds for your conscious mind to come back online fully, and when it did, Simon was leaning in again and planting kisses along your face.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, breath fanning hot across your skin. “My perfect girl. You did so good.”
You smiled and caught his mouth for a proper kiss.
“Thank you,” you murmured against him.
Then Simon squeezed your hand—the one he’d been holding this entire time. He lifted it gently, like he was afraid too rough of a movement might split you in two.
He turned your wrist and kissed the back of your hand, eyes locked on yours and expression soft while he did.
𑣲Lazy morning sex with Simon Riley (18+)
𑣲Simon Riley has a hard time getting it up (18+)
𑣲Giving Simon Riley the silent treatment during sex (18+)
𑣲Deaf!Simon Riley and the vibrations of your voice (18+)
𑣲Simon Riley when you are ovulating (18+)
𑣲Prone bone with Simon Riley (18+)
𑣲Somnophilia with Simon Riley (18+)
𑣲Simon Riley has you at his mercy (18+)
𑣲Losing your virginity to Simon Riley (18+)
𑣲Midnight sex with Simon Riley (18+)
𑣲Father's Day morning with Simon Riley (18+)
𑣲Simon Riley with his pregnant wife
𑣲Sweet like honey (18+)
Simon just returned home from his last mission, exhausted and battered, and all he wants is his wife. He knows you’re asleep, he knows you have been for quite a while, but he also knows you like being woken up with his cock shoved so deep in your pussy it feels like he’s in your throat.
He stands at the edge of the bed after pulling the sheets off your body, his cargos and boxers around his ankles, his heavy cock resting in his palm while he strokes himself at the sight of you. You lay on your side, your knees curled up against your chest with your cheek pressed against the soft pillows. You look so peaceful as if you are waiting for him to ruin you exactly how he wants.
You wear one of Simon’s t-shirts and it drapes across your body, swallowing your curves and leaving everything to the imagination. He doesn’t miss how your nipples peak against the fabric from the cold breeze of the ac the second the sheets fall off you. A tiny cotton thong wraps around your hips, hugging your body tight, the soft fat of your ass and lower belly peeking out around it.
He groans while rubbing his tip, collecting the precum beading there, and running it down his shaft. Within seconds his clothes are off, the material begins to feel claustrophobic the harder he becomes, and he gets on the bed as silently as possible. It dips under his weight, but he holds you steady, so you don’t stir.
“Hey baby,” he whispers, running his hands on your lower belly, his fingers worshipping the stretch marks there only for a second before he moves his hand lower to be in between your thighs.
Two fingers rest against your clit, massaging it, rubbing slow, tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He pushes your t-shirt up, admiring your breasts, watching the way your chest rises and falls with your sleepy breathing. Pinching, pulling, rolling your nipple between his fingers, your body begins to squirm, and whimpers begin to fall but you’re still fast asleep.
His aching cock rests against your ass, and he spreads your cheeks, gazing at your wet folds before sticking a finger in just to make sure. He curls his digit ever so slightly, loving the way your hips press back into him for more, loving the way your body responds to him despite not being aware of what he’s doing.
He pulls it out, his calloused finger glistening in the dim lighting of the room and sucks the slick off of him. The taste of you floods his mouth, musky and sweet, something he can never get tired of. If you were in a different position, he would’ve eaten you out until you begged him to fuck you, but this will do just fine.
Notching his head at your entrance, he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, and while he sucks, he pushes himself inside of you. Deeper and deeper until he is nestled against your cervix and your body begins to wake up.
“Si…,” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, unable to deny the sensations running through you from your husbands’ cock in your pussy.
“It’s okay baby. ‘s just me,” he replies, popping his mouth off your nipple, moving his lips to yours instead.
He kisses you soft and slow, his cock pumping in and out of you at the same pace, his hips rolling against your ass with a soft slap and squelch from how wet you are. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it greedily while one hand latches on to the hair at his nape, and the other curls against the soft sheets.
The veins and ridges of his cock slide through your walls, filling you up to the brim, leaving no room inside of you empty for long. Precum leaks out against your cervix and you clamp down on him, he pulls out until only the tip is inside and your pussy begs him for more. He rests his forehead against you, his warm, heavy breath hitting your skin and sending shivers down your spine while he fucks you.
“Feels so g-good,” you moan, arching your ass into him, doing your best to meet him for every single thrust he gives you.
“I know baby, I know,” he groans, his lips brushing against yours, the feeling of you so close is consuming him whole.
His hand moves between your legs again and they fall open for him this time. He gathers your slick before rubbing your clit, those same tight circles gliding against the sensitive bundle of nerves faster now as his pace picks up. His other hand holds himself up, his palm digging into the mattress where he fists the fabric, steadying himself when the feeling of your walls wrapped so tightly around him is almost unbearable.
Simon thrusts into you faster, harder, deeper, anything to feel your pussy clamp down on him as a silent beg for more. Your body writhes beneath him, your eyes shut tight with your mouth hanging open ever so slightly while moans and whimpers fall from your pretty, soft lips. Your hand moves from his nape and grabs your breast instead where you pull and pinch your own nipple in search of more stimulation.
His gaze falls to your small hand, touching yourself just the way you want, pleasuring your body at the same time as him, and he has to do everything in his power not to cum inside you just from that. Instead, he fucks you harder, hitting deeper, hitting spots only he can.
“F-fuck, Si,” you cry out when he angles his hips perfectly to hit your sweet spot.
Stars burst behind your eye lids, the feeling of pleasure coursing through your body, the feeling of your orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly as if it is ready to snap at any given time. You rock back against him, letting him reach even deeper inside of you, drunk on the feeling of his fat cock bullying your pussy.
“Yeah? That feel good,” he asks, doing it again, and again, and again until you can’t even form a single coherent thought.
All of it overwhelms you in the best way possible. His fingers working your puffy, swollen clit that begs for the attention he always gives it. Your hardened, aching nipples that you pull, and pinch, and twist to relieve the need to be touched there. His cock slamming into your cervix, hitting your sweet spot, rubbing your walls raw until you can’t hold back anymore.
“I’m c-cumming! O-oh Si,” you whimper, throwing your head back against the pillow, giving yourself to him in the most vulnerable way possible.
“Cum on my dick,” he growls out, pounding you harder, begging to feel you unravel all because of him.
The sound of skin slapping, moans, groans, and whimpers fill the room. The headboard slams against the wall, the bed creaks under the harsh movements and heavy weight. The two of you are consumed by each other, drowning in the feeling of pleasure and desire, both itching to feel the other.
“C’mon baby. Give it to me.”
You nod your head frantically, unable to say anything even if you try. Your body becomes rigid, your muscles drawing taut, and your orgasm rocks through you. Cum gushes from your pussy, leaking out around his length, leaving a white cream around the base of him. You cry out, your hand looking for purchase on anything, and when you land on his lower abdomen, your nails dig into his skin.
He grunts from the pleasurable pain of you, fucking into you deeper, watching you cum on him before he allows himself the same release. His fingers ease up on your clit when your body begins to twitch, when you keep repeating that you can’t take it anymore, but his cock still drives into your sensitive pussy over and over again.
“Gonna cum so deep in you,” he says, voice low and rough around the edges, laced with raw desire and the utmost passion.
He moves his hand from in between your thighs and uses it to spread your cheeks to watch the way your soaking pussy swallows him whole. The sight alone can have him cumming but when he looks up at you, he knows he’s done for.
Your eyes are on him, half-lidded and dazed while tears stain your cheeks. Your mouth is hanging open, lingering whimpers falling out, your lips swollen and pigmented from his harsh kisses. Drool drips from your chin, running down your neck and pooling in the dip of your chest where your breasts bounce with each hard thrust.
“F-fuck, you feel so g-good,” he stutters, his hips doing the same, his pace becoming frantic and unsteady.
With a few more thrusts he’s burying himself to the hilt and spilling his seed inside of you. Long, thick ropes of warm cum flood your pussy, spurting out from his tip against your cervix with every pulse of his cock, coating your walls in his release, leaking out with nothing else will fit. His cock slides in and out ever so slowly, letting every last drop fall inside of your greedy pussy, making sure to push it deeper inside of you.
Simon collapses on the bed beside you, even more exhausted and battered than before, but now feeling blissful after being with his wife. You roll over, sluggish and tired, just to place your body on top of his. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in, caging you against his sweaty skin and beefy body. He places a soft kiss to your forehead when you get comfortable on his chest, and he does it again, and again until he can hear your breathing even out and those soft sounds you make that you swear aren’t snores.
When you are ovulating, Simon’s cock weeps from overstimulation, but he never complains.
You’ve been riding him for who knows how long, and he’s on his… actually he can’t even remember how many times he’s cum. You’re feral, truly feral, bouncing up and down his length, sitting down fully until his tip is pressed against your cervix and leaking precum. Grinding down on him, your hands fall to his chest, digging your nails into his skin to steady yourself as he writhes beneath you.
He’s a whimpering, whining mess, cursing under his breath, with his eyes rolling to the back of his head when your pussy clenches down on his length. Every time your ass slaps against his thighs a breath of air is knocked from his lungs, leaving him gasping and clutching the bunched-up sheets around his limp body.
“C-can’t take anymore l-lovie,” he stutters, placing both hands on your hips, but instead of moving you away, his own hips buck up just to feel more of your warm, wet walls around his aching cock.
His mouth hangs open as drool drips from his chin, his eyes half-lidded while he watches your breasts bounce directly in front of his face, and he can’t help but suck one nipple into his mouth to bite down and relieve some of the unbearable pleasure. You moan out, your fingers moving to tangle in the hair at his nape, pulling harshly on the strands before pushing your chest out for him by arching your back.
“One more Si, p-please… need it, need your c-cum,” you beg, gazing down at him with fucked out eyes, obscene moans flooding his ears each time his cock knocks against your cervix.
Your knees dig into the mattress on either side of him, caging his body underneath yours while you ride him as if your life depends on it. Skin slaps against skin, the sounds sharp and loud, the headboard bangs against the wall, sure to leave a dent or scrape the paint, not that either of you care. The smell of sex hangs in the air so thick you can taste it, musky from the salty sweat beading across the two bodies that move together in tandem.
“So g-good,” you praise, bouncing harder, faster, pushing him deeper inside of you while your walls suck him in, and clench down as if your pussy never wants him to leave.
The veins and ridges of his cock slide through your walls, filling you up to the brim, leaving no parts of you empty for too long. He sucks, bites, licks on your nipple, letting it peak between his lips before moving off with a pop and focusing on the other. One of his hands slides from your hip, finding your clit with ease to rub tight, quick circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves instead.
You cry out in pleasure, sinking down fast to grind against his fingers before lifting up once more. With the added stimulation, your body grows weaker the closer and closer you reach your climax, and you beg him to help you.
“C’mon lovie… I g-got you,” he says, planting both feet on the bed behind you, and steadying you on top of him before he begins to pound into you from below.
His balls clap against your ass, sensitive and empty, and he whimpers every time. You slump against his chest, your nipples dragging across his rough skin, his fingers still working your clit, and you’re walking the edge of your orgasm faster than you would like.
“C-close… I’m so…”
He thrusts in deep and hard, knocking the air from your lungs, cutting off your words as a sharp gasp rips from your throat when his tip nudges against your sweet spot. Stars burst behind your eyelids, the sheer ecstasy rushing through your body is enough to have you cumming on his long, thick cock.
“That’s it. Cum on m-me,” he encourages, eager to feel you come undone, his cock crying out for him as it bullies your insides and bruises your cervix.
Your muscles draw taut, your body becoming rigid as pleasure consumes your entire being. Cum gushes from your entrance, leaking out around his length for the umpteenth time tonight, dripping from his skin and pooling onto the already wet sheets below. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight and pulses rhythmically around him.
He fucks you through your high, drawing it out as long as possible before giving himself the same release, his fingers only letting up on your swollen clit when your body begins to jerk and twitch from his overstimulating touch.
“Shit- gonna f-fill you up again lovie.”
With a few more thrusts he’s burying himself to the hilt and releases his seed deep inside of you. Long, thick ropes of warm cum flood your pussy, leaking out from his tip against your cervix, coating your walls and dripping out when there is no more room left inside of your raw walls. Your belly tingles from the sensation, your skin burning from his touch, your body weak on top of his as his thrusts slow and he collapses onto the pillows again.
Simon’s chest heaves against yours while he tries to catch his breath, his heart pounding in your ear as he comes down from his intense high. You do your best to recover too, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps, the sound of your blood whooshing past your ears louder than any of the lingering whimpers and whines from stimulated sensitive body parts, your legs and arms trembling from the prolonged activity, it is all too much and not enough at the same time.
His cock continues to twitch inside of you, the mess continues to pool underneath you, and knowing you, you still would want more.
Deaf!Simon Riley and the vibrations of your voice (18+)
Simon Riley has been deaf for the past few years of his life due to sudden acoustic trauma from explosions and gunfire. He never had a problem with it, in fact, he never really talked or listened to people in general when he was able to hear. The tinnitus still rings out in his head, still makes him press his pillow against his ears at night, but at least he didn’t have to listen to anything else.
It wasn’t until you came along that he wished he could hear again, but something about the simple intimacy of feeling your voice rather than hearing it made him feel like this is how it was always meant to be for him.
He liked the fact that you would still speak to him as he reads your lips, that you didn’t shy away when he would occasionally reach up to touch your cheek just to feel the vibrations of your voice. Of course, you accommodated him as well, learning how to articulate your words better for lip reading, how to use sign language, but when he would ask you to speak about anything and everything you always did.
You never fail to make his world feel loud in a space that was so consumingly quiet before.
And when it came to sex, it was never anything short of passionate. It was a different kind of intimacy you had never experienced before him.
Your back is pressed against the sheets, Simon’s chest against yours, and his face is buried in your neck as he thrusts into you deep, and hard. His hips roll against yours, spreading your legs wider, stuffing your wet pussy full of his aching cock. Every single moan falling from your lips, every last babbled word you can get out as he fucks you dumb, he drinks it all in with his lips pressed to your throat to feel the vibrations flood through his body.
He is always particular about that, rightfully so, to the point where he’ll fuck you any way you want but he needs to feel you to cum. To feel your wet, warm walls wrapped tightly around him, clenching down on his length when his tip knocks against your cervix. To feel your cries of pleasure when he angles his hips just right to brush against your sweet spot.
Your fingers tangle in the hair at his nape, tugging slightly, earning a low groan rumbling out from the depths of his chest. Your nails rake down the rough skin of his back, leaving red, angry marks in your wake. Wrapping your legs around his waist, the new angle allows him to dig deeper, leaving you a moaning mess under him.
The skin of his abdomen glides on your clit, stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves when he thrusts in and grinds his cock on your cervix. Your nipples drag against his chest, hard and swollen, aching for his lips. You press soft kisses to his shoulder, biting ever so slightly and licking away the pain until it fades into pleasure again.
The veins and ridges of his cock slide through your walls, molding your pussy to him, stretching you, pleasuring you, all because of him. He fills you to the brim, leaving no space inside of you empty for long, before pulling back out and doing it over and over again. Stars burst behind your eyelids when he zeros in on your sweet spot, his precision maddening, his consistent thrusts enough to bring you impossibly close to your climax.
He can feel you getting closer, can feel the frantic vibrations, can feel the way your heart speeds up when you squirm your hips under him to find more of the friction you so desperately crave. Simon gives into your body every single time, thrusting harder, pounding deeper, slamming his hips against your faster the more eager he grows to feel you cum on his cock.
Each thrust knocks the breath out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for air, each exhale turning into sounds of pleasure. His skin is warm and sweaty on yours, one hand gripping the fat of your hip, the other caging your head in, keeping you steady while he pounds into you relentlessly. His face stays buried in your neck, his lips trail up and down as he sucks and bites against the one spot he knows you like, and when your walls clamp down around him, he hits your sweet spot one more time and you’re cumming for him.
Moans rip free from your throat as your body grows rigid and your muscles draw taut underneath him. Cum gushes from your pussy, leaking out around his cock, dripping from his skin and making a mess on the sheets below. He groans, deep and low, rolling into you to drag out your high for as long as possible before he brings himself to that same sweet release.
He lifts his face from your neck, wrapping his hand around it instead, still allowing himself to feel the vibrations but settling on placing his lips against yours. Your lips move with his, finding his rhythm, moving in tandem the closer he gets and you continue to moan which he swallows greedily.
Only when your body twitches with overstimulation, only when your nails dig into the skin of his back, only then does he drive himself to the hilt and spill his seed. Long, thick ropes of warm cum flood your pussy, spurting out in continuous streams from his swollen, sensitive tip, hitting your cervix and leaking out around him when nothing else will fit.
His kiss turns slower while his movements come to a stop, swiping his tongue against your soft lips before pulling away with a wet pop, breaking the strings of saliva connecting the two of you. The sight of you so blissful underneath makes him feel like this is the prettiest you have ever been.
Tears stain your cheeks, your eyes half-lidded and bloodshot. Your mouth hangs open ever so slightly, drool dripping from your chin, as whimpers and whines continue to fall the more you feel his cock twitch deep inside of you. You look so raw, so vulnerable, so his. His to please, his to love, his to cherish.
Your voice may belong to everyone else, but the vibrations of your body will always belong to him.
Early morning rays filter through the sheer curtains, basking the bedroom in a warm glow of the sun. The mattress seems to swallow you whole, molding to your body, begging you to stay naked in the comfort of your sheets instead of waking up for the day. Simon sleeps behind you peacefully, finally back from a mission just in time for his holiday.
It's the third Sunday of June, Father's Day, and just before you are about to sneakily get out of bed to start the breakfast tradition, Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your back against his chest. Your body relaxes in his hold, the warmth of his skin spreads throughout yours, and his calloused fingers draw circles on your lower belly which leaves goosebumps in his wake.
"Mornin' lovie," he says, voice low and rough with sleep, his breath hitting the back of your neck before he buries his face in the crook between your shoulders.
"Happy Father's Day Si," you reply, placing your hand on top of his while snuggling closer.
His cock immediately rises against your ass, hard and ready to go even after just waking up, and you have no shame when you grind against him. He groans, pushing his length towards you, pulling you closer to feel more of your skin on his. Your legs open ever so slightly when his hand trails lower, and two of his fingers run through your folds, teasing you before bringing them up to your clit.
He rubs slow, tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, making your hips rock back and forth as you begin to crave the feeling of soft pleasure, all while drawing out quiet whimpers and moans from your lips. He kisses your nape, moving along your shoulder, up your neck, across your jaw until you turn your head to give him access to your mouth. His kiss is deep and claiming, raw and passionate, and he continues to grind against you.
"Let me put another one in you… haven't had you pregnant in years," he says in between kisses, his fingers working your clit faster the more your legs spread for him.
Your pussy clamps down on nothing from the promise in his words, slick leaking from your entrance as desire continues to build inside you, and you can't help but nod and agree to anything he has to say right now. He laughs softly, kissing you again and again, moving his hand from your clit just to better situate himself.
He wraps one hand under your body, pulling you closer by your waist, positioning it to where he can rub your clit while moving the other hand to lift your leg. He slides his cock against your folds, gathering your slick, coating his length in your arousal to make it easier to push inside. His tip leaks precum, the head red and swollen with need, and you move your soft hand down to smear it with your thumb before guiding him to your entrance.
"Goddamn," he curses, his tip slipping inside of your wet walls, your pussy instantly giving way to his familiar length when both of you let out a rough moan of approval.
Simon sinks in all the way, his cock nudging against your cervix, and he rests there, feeling the way your walls flutter around him while trying to adjust to his size like you have to every single time. Your fingers grip the sheets, trying to steady yourself from the feeling of being so full, and you bite your bottom lip to muffle the sounds of pleasure that threaten to rip free and wake up everyone in the house.
"Si, please," you beg, rolling your hips back against him, silently asking for him to move, for him to do anything he wants to you.
His hand moves from your clit, moving to press down on your lower belly, and the sensation leaves you feeling euphoric from how deep inside you he sits. He groans from feeling himself there too, his cock twitching in the depths of your pussy just from the thought alone. One finger traces the lines of your stretch marks, silently worshipping all your body has done to give him his children. You let him, giving him the time to be there with you, giving him the time to think back on everything that has happened to make him the father he is today.
"I wouldn't be anything without you," he whispers breathlessly, his fingers finding your clit again where he rubs tight, quick circles while he pulls out just to push back in again.
His cock bullies your insides in the best way. The veins and ridges of his length slide through your walls, molding to him, welcoming him in the rawest way possible. He angles his hips to hit your sweet spot, and you do everything you can not to cry out for the man behind you. He hits your cervix, knowing just how much pressure to apply to make it pleasurable for you. Simon doesn't go too fast or too slow, his pace is meant to build your orgasm steadily, to build the anticipation.
"You feel so good," he praises, rolling his hips against your ass over and over again, pinching your clit between his calloused fingers and rubbing at the same time.
You moan quietly, rocking back and forth against him to meet every thrust while spreading your legs even wider than the way he has you positioned, begging for more. Your fingers tangle in the sheets, your other hand cups your breasts, toying with your sensitive, hard nipples to relieve the ache in them. Your head digs into the soft pillow, drool dripping onto the fabric from where your mouth hangs open ever so slightly on silent moans, and your eyes shut tight as you give your body over to him.
"Oh f-fuck Si," you whimper, shivers racking through your body as heat begins to pool in your lower belly,
He pounds against your sweet spot, his fingers dig into the soft fat of the inside of your thigh, his fingers work your clit with efficiency just the way you like it. You push back against him, letting him reach even deeper inside of you, and you grind against his fingers, but your body is confused on where to focus when everything feels too good. You pull, pinch, twist your nipples, searching for more stimulation while your orgasm builds and builds.
"Yeah? That feel good," he asks, growling out the words to bite back his groans.
You nod your head, it's the only thing you can do as he fucks you dumb and clouds your mind, inhibiting you from being able to form any coherent words or important thoughts. He fucks you faster, deeper, harder, thrusting inside of you with little control as his mind and body beg him to make you cum. His balls slap against your ass, squelching from the contact from how wet you are for him,
Your climax sits in your lower belly, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap, and your body begins to shake with pleasure as he continues to drill into you. He knows you're so close, he can taste the goosebumps on your skin when he kisses your shoulder, see the shivers racking through your body while you writhe, feel the way your pussy clamps down as if it never wants him to pull back out.
"Cum on my dick baby… I know you can do it," he says, encouraging you while placing his mouth on your neck, sucking the soft skin until purple bruises bloom underneath.
You squirm in his grasp, desperate to feel the pleasure he speaks of, and when your body becomes rigid and your muscles draw taut, you give yourself over to it. Cum gushes from your pussy, leaking out around his length, coating his shaft in rings of white cream. Your body trembles against his, your moans ring out in his ear even while trying to be as quiet as possible, and when you start to twitch from overstimulation he eases up on your clit.
"That's it. You're such a good girl for me."
Simon pounds into you harder, focusing on his own climax now. His hand moves from your leg, letting it hang in the air while he spreads your ass to get a better view of your soaked pussy sucking him in. Groans fall from his lips, grunts fill the air with each thrust of his hips, and the sight of you taking his impossibly large dick has him cumming instantly.
"F-fuck, goddamit… feels so good," he says, thrusting a few more times before burying himself to the hilt and releasing his seed deep inside of you.
A guttural groan rips from his throat, far too loud, but neither of you care. Long, thick ropes of warm cum flood your pussy, spurting out with every pulse of his length, hitting your cervix and leaking out when there isn't room for anymore. Your pussy flutters around him, milking him of every last drop of it until there is nothing left and his cock stills inside of you. It creates a mess between your thighs, one that he will happily clean up.
His body slumps against the mattress, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he tries to catch his breath, and you pull his cock out just to flip over and face him instead. Simon pulls you closer, basking in the scent of you, in the warmth your body gives off. His eyes roam your face, taking note of your afterglow, of your half-lidded eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, of your swollen lips and drool stains.
He kisses you hard, but slow, savoring the taste of you, his fingers gripping your skin as if he can't seem to get you close enough. You place your hands on his chest and push him flat against the mattress before straddling his hips. His hands find your ass, kneading the plush fat, softly grinding you against his semi-hard length before you playfully slap him.
"No more… and you better pretend to still be asleep when I bring the kids in here with breakfast," you say, scolding him for distracting you from the Father's Day activities you have planned.
"Yes ma'am," he replies, laughing softly, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you back in for one more kiss before letting you leave. "Do I get dessert after?"
His hand falls between your legs, slipping two fingers into your pussy, curling them until he hits your sweet spot and your back arches ever so slightly before pulling them back out again. He brings them to your mouth, rubbing cum against your lips, silently asking you to open for him and when you do, you clean them off while nodding your head yes and gazing down at him. He groans, and sets you down on the floor, trying to hide his hard, aching cock with the sheets and telling himself to let you go before he fucks you in bed all day.
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Simon with a weird ass wife. Like think about it. You’re always doing or saying something strange as hell and Si is right there beside you, giving the stink eye to anyone who dares look at you like you’re weird because you’re not (you totally are).
Someone is judging you because you said that you can’t get rid of a dead cactus that’s been sitting in the window for six years because that would hurt it’s feelings? Fuck them for judging you because it absolutely would hurt it’s feelings and he’s on his way to smack some sense into them right now.
Oh, you absolutely stared down a high ranking officer when you came to bring Simon his lunch? No one better say anything. You were just distracted by his offensively chartreuse shirt and had to say something. He should have worn a better color because it is in fact horrendous. That’s not your fault.
ANYTHING WITH GAZ PLSPLSPLSPLSPPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPS
Knight Gaz
Tags: Fluff, forbidden love, royal au
WC: 274
Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader
A/N: Anon how did you know I was desperate to write for Gaz? He’s so cutie pie I love him. Anywayyy here’s some Knight!Gaz!!!!!!!!
Knight!Gaz who is your sworn protector. By law he must do as you say and die honorably for you, which for him is a dream come true. Ever since he lay eyes on you, he was smitten. You want to walk in the garden? He’s there with you, listening to your soft melodic humming as you enjoy the freshly blooming flowers.
Knight!Gaz who knows his love for you is wrong. As a knight, he is sworn to never take a wife, never have children. But when he’s with you, he can’t help himself but imagine it. Small babes with your eyes, his smile. The thought distracts him greatly.
Knight!Gaz who entrenches himself in training, trying desperately to keep you out of his mind. It does little, of course. But he won’t allow himself to abandon his sword for the day, knowing that if he did, he may abandon this life all together just to be with you.
Knight!Gaz who is filled with pure disgust when your potential suitors come to see you. He deems them pathetic, not nearly of the necessary quality to be anywhere near you, let alone a husband. He hates them all severely, wishing that he could do as he pleased and pitch them right off the nearest cliff.
Knight!Gaz who sits with you in your chambers at night, listening to you complain about the men who came to see you. He can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his lips. He can’t tell you, he never can, but to know that in some universe, he could be yours and you his, he is happy.
Months John had been gone. This most recent deployment had been hell. He didn’t often think he wouldn’t make it home, but the feeling kept threatening to eat him alive.
John Price hated fear. It made him feel weak, like control was not his to own. If John Price ever needed anything, it was control.
Or you. Coming home to you and your daughters always soothed his soul. Home was the one place he felt like he could relax. He was never on guard here, never waiting for the next threat. Here he wasn’t a captain, he wasn’t in charge of keeping his team alive or saving lives. He was just John, just daddy.
Your girls were the first to hear the back door open. Their little heads snapping to the sound, erupting into screams of excitement. The little pool left abandoned as they dash towards him. “Daddy! Daddy home!”
Your smallest moves as quickly as possible, trailing behind her big sister. John scoops them up the second they get to him. “Well hello my little loves. Were you good for your mummy?”
“No! We were bad!” Your oldest giggles in delight, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck in a tight hug.
John laughs, deep and tired, but filled with relief. “Mmm sounds about right. Just like your old daddy, huh?”
You approach, hose still in your hand. “Little monsters they were.” Your smile is wide as you watch your husband and children. There were days you dreamed of this and here it was in front of you.
Your youngest babbles happily, not even two years old yet. She pulls at his beard, smiling and giggling in delight. She had always been a daddy’s girl, following him around and mimicking everything he did.
John kisses their cheeks, brushing wet hair from their cheeks, still chubby with baby fat. “You girls swimmin’?”
Your oldest nods enthusiastically, pointing to the small pool. “Yeah! Mummy say we swim good!” Her smile is bright and a smear of her favorite strawberry jam lingers on her chin.
“Oh I bet you do,” John replies, ruffling the three years olds hair affectionately. Nothing in the world compared to the joy they brought him.
You wouldn’t really call what they did “swimming” let alone well. The tiny round pool was getting too small to fit them both and much too shallow to do much more than splash. They adored it though. It had been a gift from John last year. He didn’t trust public pools. He always called them bacteria filled cesspools. So he got the pool and they loved it.
John stands and pulls you close, giving you a kiss as the girls pull on your skirt. “Mummy! Swim! Swim!”
Simon’s little girl is unexpected to say the least. No one but the two of you knew about her, besides her pediatrician and even then Simon did not enjoy having another person know of his child.
He was terrified really. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t petrified of the wrong people knowing about her. He had seen too much to foolishly believe that the world would be safe for her. The world would be cruel enough to her already. Being his child came with a risk that wasn’t even her fault.
So when you show up on base with the little baby in her stroller, dressed in a little bonnet, yellow summer dress and the smallest shoes the men had ever seen, it was quite a shock. He had told them about you. Bits and pieces here and there. Never anything concrete. Certainly nothing about your baby girl.
She babbled nonsense as she was lifted out of her floral stroller, the one you insisted upon getting. “Ahhh bahhh bah!” She shrieked as she kicks her tiny legs, recognizing her father immediately, tiny hands clapping together.
He takes her into his arms. It looks ridiculous. Such a small thing compared to the towering behemoth of a man. “Hi, Lovie girl,” he whispers, kissing the top of her head. “You a good girl for mummy?”
You smile at your husband. You loved to see them together. It’s like Simon really became himself when she was in his arms. “The best.”
The team stares, confusion written all over their faces. Johnny looks almost offended at being kept in the dark. “Tha’ thing is yours?” He asks as he pressed a scandalized hand against his chest.
Simon merely grunts in response, adjusting the baby and grabbing her stuffed bunny from your bag.
“Don’t seem like the dad type,” Kyle mutters, though it’s void of judgment.
Simon ignores him. He knew it was true. It had been on his mind since the day you told him you were pregnant. Even now he couldn’t always shake the feeling that he wasn’t cut out for this.
Your girls babbling snaps him out of his thoughts. “Mmmaa buh.” She says with complete conviction, nodding her little head and reaching up to pull on the balaclava covering his face.
Johnny looks nothing short of delighted. He smiles at the baby and tickles her, making her scream in pure anger and try to bite him with her tiny teeth. Your girl hated nothing more than being tickled. “I’m the uncle, right?” Johnny grins as he squishes her cheeks, earning another attempted bite.
18+, simon ghost riley filthy thoughts because i can
simon's obsession with your cunt is the filthiest secret he keeps, the one that makes his hands shake when he thinks about it in the middle of briefings.
he can't fucking help it. ever since that first time - your naked body spread out on his bed, begging for his touch - has been completely, utterly hooked. addicted. he can't get enough of the way your pussy feels clenching around his fingers, his cock. the way you taste when he buries his face between your thighs, the sweet musky smell that drives him insane. especially how you look when you're turned on, swollen and glistening for him.
it's gotten bad. really fucking bad. he'll spend hours just playing with you, watching your face as he works you up, sees the pleasure build until you're writhing and moaning his name. loves feeling your slick coating his fingers, how fucking wet you get for him. and god, when you squirt - when you soak his face and hand because he finally pushed you over the edge - that's his favorite part. that's when he feels like he's won something.
he's even started recording it. little videos of you coming apart on his fingers, your pretty pussy spasming as you cry out his name. watches them when he's away on missions, craving you like the worst kind of addiction. it's the only thing that gets him through those long, lonely nights, knowing he'll be home soon to bury his face between your legs again.
on longer ops, he's gotten even more depraved. he steals your panties before he leaves. tucks them into his pocket, pressing them to his nose when he strokes himself. loves that faint scent of you, a desperate reminder of home, of your body waiting for him.
johnny and gaz have no fucking clue. none of the task force knows that their stoic, professional lieutenant is completely pussy-whipped. they'd never believe it if they found out. but simon doesn't care. as long as he gets to keep indulging in his favorite pastime, he'll keep his shameful little secret to himself.
