I'm 33/Plus Size/Pansexual/ South Carolina This is a NSFW blog so. If you're not 18+ kick rocks. If asked to remove photo please do so and thank you! in advance! AND IF YOU FAIL ILL REPORT YOU! Now that is out the way! I post whatever the hell I like and want and things of that nature!
.˳˳✧.⋅ॱ fem!reader x electrician!simon “ghost” riley
18+ only. shy!pervy!simon. unprotected p in v. daddy kink. breeding kink. drooling. hair pulling.
.˳˳✧.⋅ॱ word count: 3k
౨ৎ
Electrician!Simon who’s onto his first appointment of the day. Never anything crazy, always a light switch or outlet that stops working, maybe a DIY gone wrong. Guess he shouldn’t complain since he doesn’t have to break a sweat over it.
Knows from just the look of your house that you’re one to decorate, if the set up on your porch is anything to go by. Knocks on your door with a rough hand, eyes the cute little welcome mat that knocks off clumps of dirt from his scuffed and worn work boots, decides too late to kick off a good chunk when you yank the door open.
You’re a pretty thing, gaze up at him like he’s gonna save the day, all smiles and a whiff of something sweet. “Hello, good morning! Thank you so much for coming-” you blabber and hold the door wide open for him.
Talk his ear off in the foyer as his eyes take in the sight of you and your house, for once feel the need to take off his shoes so he doesn’t leave a speck of dirt to taint the cute little space you’ve made for yourself.
All ears since you won’t let him get a word out, not that he minds since you really don’t catch how fixated he is on you. How his eyes skim over your face, your delicate throat, your shoulder and collarbone that peaks from underneath your too big t-shirt.
You don’t even notice he’s slipped off his shoes until you lead him over to the light switch that’s stopped working. Pause in the middle of your rant about how it could have been an easy fix but you decided to leave it to the professional, to gush about how you didn’t mind that he wore his shoes inside.
“Didn’t want to dirty yer place.” He says roughly. Voice gluing your lips shut and sending butterflies swirling in your stomach. Eyes tracking him and maybe a little of the movement of his shoulders when he kneels down to unscrew the light switch. Finds his own treat in taking quick peeks of your legs.
“Oh, well thank you for being so kind.” You blush, a little nervous about his size. All broad shoulders and muscles that make your insides do flips.
He mentions turning the electricity off to the outlet with a deep groan as he rises from his knees. Lead him to the breaker with goosebumps on your skin, groan replaying in your head, and you stutter something about being in the living room while he does his work. And Simon indulges himself by watching you walk away, nearly makes him trip over his own feet when he reaches for the breaker.
He finds you perched on the couch when he comes back for the light switch. Windows wide open for the dozens of plants around it, acts like a spotlight over you and it makes it hard for him to tear his eyes away. Lets them linger on your legs in those cute pajama shorts for a second too long that a nagging in his chest starts to grow.
Mostly focused on getting you straightened out but he’d be lying if he said you weren’t in the back of his mind.
Felt like a pervert when he wondered if you had a boyfriend. Shook the thought out of his head when he turned your lights back on, flickered the light switch for you when he feels your eyes at his back. Heard you stand from the couch and bound over to him with soft patters.
“Thank you so much! How much do I owe you?” You tilt your head to the side, waiting with your wallet fidgeting in your hands, all innocent like and it makes him suck in a deep breath. Might’ve been a mistake when the smell of you fills his nose, makes his chest burn.
“On the house.” He murmurs roughly, worrying with his work belt so your pretty little face isn’t engraved into his mind when he leaves. A little too late now since he can’t stop breathing in so deeply to chase the smell of you.
You shake your head quickly and frown, even wave your hands up at him. “No, please, let me pay you for your work.”
“Easy fix.”
“Still.”
Your eyes plead with him. Sight of you makes him hungry, but Simon shakes his head firmly, more so to knock the growing admiration from his brain. “Don’t worry about it.” He says stiffly, trudges over to your front door and slips on his shoes, hating how much he likes the sound of you rushing after him.
“W-Well thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
You listen good too. The idea makes him unsteady. And when he yanks open your door with a little too much force, about to leave and potentially never see you again, his eyes land on that mat. Wants his shoes to darken it with his frequent visits. The thought makes him whirl around, neck heating up when you jump slightly in surprise.
Clears his throat when that heat travels to his ears. Eyes darting around your face, mouth hungry and parting to ask for your number or if you have a boyfriend, but he just can’t bring himself to do it.
Looks like a gaping fish while you hold the door open, so uncertain and meek. Quiet now unlike before when you were talking his head off, curiosity in your eyes. And all Simon manages with a ball in his chest is a short, “Have a good day.”
“You too!” You respond to his back and shut the door with a lingering gaze, will go about your day like normal all while Simon wonders when you’ll call for an appointment again after he may or may not have meddled with your breaker.
And maybe then he’ll have worked up enough courage to ask for your number.
Simon groans lowly, throws his head back and lets his eyes shut. Thinks back to the day he came back to your house, you opened your door all apologetic and embarrassed because you didn’t know what was up with your house and things messing up but Simon was there to help. Told you not to worry, that he’d fixed you right up.
Took him no more than a few seconds to undo what he mixed up, but you didn’t know lounged in your living room. Didn’t know the extra ten minutes he was back there “working” was him exploring the rooms of your house.
He didn’t look through your things, just wanted to see what you had. No harm no foul.
Told you it was on the house again and you begged so sweetly for him to let you pay or at least in a different way. Gave him the opportunity to ask for your number all while his neck warmed uncomfortably. Let you type it in his phone while his eyes drank in the blush across your face and how your throat bobbed when you swallowed thickly.
All shy when you handed his phone back and Simon took his time chatting you up before taking you out on a date. Found out you weren’t as innocent as he thought when your hands were all over him when he brought you home.
“Daddy why’d you stop?” You whimper, pussy fluttering around Simon’s cock when you peek around your shoulder to gaze at him.
Simon reopens his eyes, drinks in the sight of you bent over your dining table. Was too eager to wait until he got you in bed and how exactly was he supposed to say no when you lay yourself across the table and hike your dress up for his eyes to feast on your ass and that pretty thong you wore for him?
And Simon found that he quite liked the name you gave him, made his palms hungry to fill with your hips as he jerks forward, fills you to the hilt with his cock and he loves the way you cry out at the stretch.
“I’m here, baby. Daddy’ll take care of you.”
You moan at the hoarseness of his voice, goosebumps covering your skin at how deep you feel him. Can feel your body warm, sweat at your back as his hands skim along your hips and fall to squeeze your ass.
Simon finds you so precious with the straps of your dress fallen to your arms, tits smashed and red against the table when his hands got hungry for them. Thong wet and pooled around one of your ankles.
The next punch of his cock takes the breath from your lungs, hardly have enough time to catch it before he finds a rhythm that pulls ragged gasps and pants from your throat.
Let’s his hands slowly roam across your back and hips, loves the feel of how soft you are under his calloused palms, crooked grin forming on his lips when you shiver.
Squeezes and pulls at your hips, finds pleasure in filling his palms with your flesh. Eyes tracking how red your skin turns, makes him send a sharp thrust in your cunt that earns him a loud keen and ball of your fists.
“F-Faster, Daddy, please.” You whine, voice low and bouncing off the table to your ears, makes your face heat at how pathetic you sound.
“Since you asked Daddy so nicely, baby.” Simon coos and caresses your back with his palm. Knows he’ll give you exactly what you want and maybe a little more so a soft trail of kisses between your shoulder blades reassures him a little more than you.
Groans lowly in his chest at the smell of you, just what he was chasing after the first time he got a whiff of you. Simon settles his forehead down and sucks in a deep breath full of you, holds it until he becomes a little light headed, blows it out shakily and grins when he feels goosebumps rise on your skin.
Kisses up to your shoulder and combs your hair to the other side, leaves the span of your neck clear for his lips. You shudder, whimpering at how gentle his lips brush along your neck and Simon gives you the last bits of his soft side before planting a firm palm around the side of your hip and the other on your shoulder to brace himself.
Simon starts all of a sudden, slams his cock into your weeping cunt to hear you gasp and sputter at how hard his leaky cock head knocks too deep inside you that tingles race up your neck. Can feel you fluttering around him until he pummels his cock into you and the clamp of your cunt is a blur of feeling.
Only hears your whorish, pathetic and whiny cries that reveal to him long you’ve been waiting for a daddy that’ll fuck you silly, but you didn’t have to wait any longer because Simon was here to stay. Didn’t mind being your daddy, not at all when you sing so prettily as he batters his cock into your tight cunt.
Groans at the your helpless whimpers and moans, can feel you try to run from him but when he moves his fingers to thread through your hair, gathering it in a tight fist that pulls your neck back taunt, you really couldn’t get away from him if you tried all curled up and forced to take him.
You lurch back and forth, bouncing on his cock, mouth agape and spewing cries to the ceiling. Ache in your neck from the tight pull that Simon has on you, but the pleasure from his cock sends it to the back of your mind. Can only think of how deep he feels, how his cock paints your walls with his pre-cum.
“You’re taking me so well, baby, even when Daddys cock’s being a little mean to your poor pussy.” Simon purrs, body tense and flexing to fuck you just the way you wanted.
You keen, his words barely registering in your silly head but making your body hum all the same. Faintly register the creaks of the dining table from Simon brutal pace, but the overwhelming feel of his cock distracts you from anything else.
Throw your arm back to push at his hips, try and give yourself relief when stars burst behind your eyelids everytime his cock knocks at your cervix.
“S-Slower, Daddy. Too much.” You cry, eyes stinging at the burn of your ass when Simon’s hips slam into you. Can hear when your skin makes contact ring in the air, makes you jolt forward and choke on your gasps, but Simon loves the shake of your hips. Finds himself mesmerized when the color changes from that pretty flushed pink to an angry red, evidence of how how he bullys his cock into your cunt and Simon would feel a little sorry if it wasn’t what you asked of him and if you didn’t swallow his thick cock up so easily.
“I know, baby, I know. But you can take it. I know you can, Daddy’s brave girl.” Simon calms you and unravels his fingers from your hair, lets your head slump against the table in hopes it might give you room to breathe and become too cock drunk to want him to stop.
Your head grows fuzzy, drinking in the way your body buzzes with pleasure. Pussy stuffed full and throbbing, electricity traveling up your spine, nipples aching and tingly against the table enough to make drool slip past your lips and pool on the table.
Simon curls his empty hand around you waist, has to clench his jaw when he sees how big his hand are wrapped around you. Feeds into his ego because you really couldn’t go anywhere if you tried, too big and strong for your thrumming with pleasure muscles to try and pull away from.
Makes him really put his back into it, fueled by your loud moans and the creamy ring around the base of his cock formed by your sopping pussy. All shiny and glittering with arousal, he couldn’t understand why you kept trying to run away from him when your cunts crying for him so much. He didn’t even need to prep you, your pussy was weeping so bad for him. He slipped inside of you liked a dream, sucked him in all warm and tight, even now Simon strained to keep himself from cumming with sweat beading at his forehead and heat warming his neck
Simon leans into you, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, arms flexing and bulging muscles as he presses your hips into the table. Mind running wild with how easy it was to get ahold of you. “Fuck, baby. Yer so fucking tight, swallowing up my cock like a whore. Like ye were made fer Daddy’s cock.”
Your lips quiver, moans tearing up your throat, nipples raw and angry from chaffing against the table. Can feel your body humming so violently that you go a little lightheaded. Suck in ragged deep breaths just to keep your head above water.
“C-Can feel you in my t-tummy, Daddy.” You sputter, nails digging into the table. Eyes rolling when his cock hammers into your walls. Dewy sweat covering your body in a thin layer that makes your hair cling to you.
Simon’s hips stutter, lets his eyes shut and repeat your words over and over, curses to himself when his balls throb and his ears warm.
“Yeah? Ye like that, baby? Daddy can put something real special in yer tummy.”
You pussy sings, fluttering and gushing around his cock because you know what he means. And you love playing along with him.
Eyes half-lidded as you take in the silhouette of his body over you. Can see the bulges of his arm muscles as they strain on the table. You choke, hiccup on your words as they tumble past your gnawed and red lips, “Like what, Daddy?”
“Fuck.” Simon murmurs, nails finding purchase in your flesh as he eyes the creamy ring that leaves residue on your swollen pussy lips. “A baby, pretty girl. You want Daddy’s baby in yer tummy?”
You keen, clamp your insides tight around him and Simon groans because he already knows your answer, can feel it make his balls draw tight.
“Yeah,” you whine, orgasm weighing heavy in the jerk of your hips back into Simon. “Please give me a baby, Daddy.”
Simon teeth grind as he works his hips faster, amped up by your eagerness to take his cum. Lips pursed and drawn in a line as your moans ring louder, pussy speaking against his cock.
Simon’s nostrils flare, voice guttural when his thrusts turn sloppy. “Daddy’s gonna cum inside you, yeah? Have to hold it in real tight, okay? Or Daddy’s baby won’t stick.”
You clamp tightly around Simon’s cock, earn a choke from behind you that makes you hum in approval. “I’ll try my best, Daddy.” You whimper, orgasm probing at your walls and causing your hold to waver.
Simon’s fucks into you with messy thrusts, balls throbbing with the quiver of your walls around him and it only takes a few more knocks to your cervix for you to cum on his cock and pull him with you.
You squeal, hips raising and squirming, held down by Simon who curses, jaw quivering as he paints your insides with his cum and he prays with everything in him that it does stick. So you’re with him forever just like he planned.
You whimper, body warm and throbbing, tingles making you twitchy as Simon runs his hands soothing along your back. Tugs a wet, weak smile from you after drooling so much when your mind went a little silly while cumming. Don’t even remember to keep a tight hold as to not let his cum leak out, but Simon keeps you plugged, doesn’t plan on pulling his cock from you yet.
He trails kisses along your back, nose picking up the thin layer of sweat that covers you. Inhaling the mix of your smells and Simon grins wolfishly at how well his plan came along.
┃nobody knows Nanami moves like an animal behind closed doors.
───────────────────────────────
"a-aah fuck, Nanami~"
you're tied up to the bedpost, flat on your stomach, taking your husbands dick greedily. It's dark outside, indicating he's been inside you for hours now. His big hands push your waist further into the mattress, keeping you in place.
"F-fuck, stay riiight there, honey." he groans into your ear, sending zaps to your clit.
You met Nanami at the office. You fell in love with how gentle he was. He was so patient with you, going at a pace you were comfortable with.
The first time you had sex with him, you told him how you have a very high sex drive, and that you understand if that's something he's uncomfortable with. But he simply said, "Okay."
You were confused at first, but he quickly proved keeping up with you in bed wouldn't be an issue.
Who would've thought the quiet coworker was an absolute animal in bed?
"w-wait Nanami, too much a-aah" you mewl.
"Use your safe word then, honey." he taunts.
his thumbs swipes on your clit, making your back arch off the bed, but he keeps you right in place, making sure you take all of him.
You knew your safe word. He made sure it was engraved in your mind, and you should use it right now, but he feels so good inside your cunt. Pumping in and out in a pace that made you roll your eyes back. He's stuffed you so full of cum, it's oozing out.
"You're wasting all of my cum, honey. Keep it inside for me, yeah?"
He falls on top of your back and grinds deeper inside. He's so heavy and big in every aspect.
"I-I'm sorry, I can't control i-it."
"It's okay, honey. Just gotta fill you up with more of me, right?"
His arm moves to your neck, putting you in a chokehold; your chin sits on his elbow. He squeezes slightly, making you squirt all over his cock.
The night was far from over. But you're right where you want to be.
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"you're doing so well, doll."
suguru's voice is low and warm behind the camera, the tripod catching every twitch of your body as you lie back on the sheets.
the vibrator hums against your clit, pressed tight, and your hips jerk up at the sudden intensity. your back arches, thighs spreading wider as the toy buzzes harder, sending sparks racing through your nerves.
he stands at the foot of the bed, one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking his length slow and steady while the lens records the way your pussy glistens.
"fuck, look at you," he mutters, voice thick with arousal. "so pretty when you moan for me. keep going, baby. show me how good it feels."
you whimper his name, pressing the vibrator down harder, the wet sounds of your cunt filling the room. your free hand grips the sheets, knuckles white, as your hips roll up to chase the pressure.
suguru's breathing grows heavier, his strokes matching the rhythm of your moans. "that's it, doll. just like that. you're perfect, sweetie—fuck, look at your pussy dripping, mm, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"
you whine, a small 'yes' escaping your lips as your back lifts completely off the mattress when the toy hits the right spot, thighs trembling as you messily grind against it.
suguru groans, pumping his cock faster, the head slick and flushed. "god, you're so fucking hot. don't stop—i wanna see you cum for me."
"mm...s-sugu!" you moan, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly against your swollen red clit. your walls clench around nothing, slick dripping down onto the sheets as you feel your orgasm approaching. suguru's voice starts wavering, lost in the pleasure of his own ministrations. "fuuckk, good girl. you're doing so well. cum for me, baby—let me film it all."
your body goes rigid as your lips fall in an open-mouthed scream when your orgasm finally crashes over you, back arching high and thighs shaking while the vibrator stays pressed tight to your swollen nub.
"hahhhh! fuck! mm, sugu..." your moans break into sobs of pleasure, pussy pulsing visibly as you soak the toy and the sheets beneath you.
suguru curses under his breath, stroking faster until he spills over his fist, thick ropes of cum landing on the bedspread and your thigh while the camera keeps rolling, capturing every second it.
he steps closer once you both catch your breath, lowering the camera with a satisfied smile. "best model i've ever had," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
the footage is already saved—and there's no doubt that he's gonna use it for later.
tags: 18+ [MDNI], zayne x reader, smut, p in v, dirty talk, dom! zayne, implied marathon sex, implied multiple orgasms
“Am I not satisfying you?”
You blinked.
You immediately stopped watching the movie on the television, and your head tilted to look at Zayne, whose arms were crossed, leaning on the doorway.
“Um, what?” Your brows knitted together as you watched his cold gaze lock on you. “Sorry, Zayne. I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Am I not satisfying you in sex?”
Your eyes widened slightly, feeling caught off guard by your husband’s question. “Of course you do, Zayne. Where is this coming from?”
“I am your husband and your primary physician, and I have your cycle memorized,” he firmly said. “Right now, you're ovulating. So how come you're not asking for sex?”
You immediately averted your gaze back to the television, unable to meet his darkened expression. “Um, it's not like that, Zayne. I can manage myself just f-fine.”
“Really? Because as far as I remember,” You heard his slow, heavy footsteps approaching closer. “Three, four, and the previous months prior, you would initiate having sex during your ovulation.”
You gulped. “I— I just learned how to handle it on my own.”
“Why?”
Your body trembled in nervousness, eyes staring at the television, trying to seek some comfort from the noise.
“Zayne, it's not really a big deal. I swear!”
Zayne picked up the remote control and pointed it towards the television, immediately shutting the screen off into pitch-black.
“That is not what I asked.” He sternly said, setting the remote control aside.
He stood in front of you with his arms crossed, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, feeling yourself shrinking in front of him.
“I– I just don't want to bother you with trivial matters, Zayne.” You nervously fidgeted your fingers. “Your work is already physically and mentally demanding. I just don't want to add to your exhaustion…”
Zayne’s cold gaze lingered on you for a while. “So you decided to endure and relieve it on your own?”
“Zayne, it's just ovulation—”
“It seems that you have reached conclusions on your own, and most of them are inaccurate.” Zayne interrupted.
You noticed Zayne's body shift a little, making you look up.
“I can confidently attest that your assessment of my physical condition is incorrect.”
Your eyes widened, seeing Zayne unbuckling his pants.
“Z-Zayne? What are you—”
“I’ll have to properly demonstrate it instead.” Zayne’s hand reached for his glasses, hastily taking it off and placing it on the coffee table. “Let's test whether your hypothesis is correct.”
“Z-Zayne— wait— Hngh!”
“Aren't you a big girl now? Then surely you can handle my cock just fine.”
Zayne has been ramming his thick cock into you for at least three hours now, like a rutting madman.
Your chest is pressed against the bed, and your face is buried against the pillow, your tears staining the white fabric. Your hips were limply raised, gripped by Zayne's strong, large hands to maintain support.
“Ngh— Zayne… more…”
Your walls were gushing wet, and you could not distinguish whether it was from the stimulation or your cum, but it did not matter. All you could hear was the wet, unrelenting thwop, thwop, thwop.
Zayne leaned closer until you felt his breath against your ear. “My love, you said you already relieved yourself enough. But look at you, still dripping wet.” His hands traveled to your breasts, gently squeezing them. “You wanted me to bury myself inside you so badly, didn't you?”
Zayne, being a physician, already knew the answer. But would he pass this opportunity to remind you that only his cock would satisfy your thirst during ovulation? Of course not.
“‘M sorry, Zayne… your— mhmp— feels too good…” Your tongue lolled, and your mind was in a haze, feeling Zayne’s thick length hit your deepest spots.
"Cum, my needy wife." Zayne pounded you harder, and with one strong thrust, you squirted juices once again even before your mind could process it.
Your legs trembled in pleasure, feeling Zayne halt for a brief moment. Then, you weakly tilted your head to the side, eager to see his face.
Just when you thought it was over, you felt his cock rubbing against your clit, still erect.
“Z-Zayne, we've been at it for hours, y-you just came back home from work earlier—”
“No, my love.” He kissed your temple, gently turning you around, making you lie on your back. “We haven't finished the assessment.”
You looked at him teary-eyed. “I— I believe you already.”
“I disagree. The mere fact that you continue to express your concern when we're in the middle of the assessment clearly implies that I have not demonstrated enough.” He gently brushed his finger against your chin.
shut up my show is on (show is me thinking….) anyway ex army! reader who is also simon’s sweet wife …
thinking about how silent simon riley is on base, how he barely talks about his life back at home. he’s so menacing, cruel, he trains recruits like there’s no tomorrow. he’s changed since “roach” was decommissioned, since the 141 became more prolific.
the new recruits tentatively speak about him and roach, speak about how they were inseparable.
“you really think the ghost could like someone?” a recruit asks, in the mess hall, eating his rice pudding.
“think he could have loved them.” the other recruit says, “heard when roach died his heart was broken.”
and that’s that. he was a cruel man that’d lost too much. his own family, his partner. and now he was cruel and icy to everyone else.
that is until one day someone comes to the base’s reception, with a lunchbox in her hands. you’re standing there, your hair, that barely reaches your shoulders. you’ve got a large lunchbox in your hands, and you give a small smile to the receptionist as you give your ID card to be scanned.
you’re sweet, wearing a cutesy summer top and a pair of cargo trousers, a right fit for the summer.
you walk down the halls, with ease, mouthing 174 over and over again until you find simon’s office, and it’s fucking empty. he’s working again, through lunchtime, and obviously won’t eat until he comes back home to you for dinner.
he’s sparring with the newbies in the gym, and you knock on the door. you swear you hear the recruits thinking he’s shout at you, but he drops everything he’s doing to rush to you.
“love,” he says, “you alright?” his hands pat your head and back down, and you shake your head. but still he insists, “you sure?”
“i’m sure sweetheart.” you shake your head, and then hand him the lunchbox. “please eat your greens lieutenant.” you blush, before putting the box in his hands.
he waves the recruits off, “take lunch off, we’ll be back in the afternoon.” and you just shake your head.
“i swear she looks familiar.” a recruit says, “like i’ve seen photos of her around.”
simon isn’t so stupid to carry photos of you in his office. but there is a photo of his squadron in the early days. he’s near the back of the photo, tall and menacing, and two rows down you’re there too, grinning with your sparkling eyes.
roach didn’t die, they were just decommissioned, shrapnel to the leg and gut. barely any chance of survival. he’d married you in the hospital chapel.
john price who uses his size difference to keep you right where you need to be, pressing his body weight on top of you as he fucks you into oblivion.
he's so much bigger, and heavier. you can't even shift a centimeter without having to move him as well, the only reason you're not suffocating is the fact that he's refraining himself from crushing you whole, but definitely not the same for your poor hole.
at this point, you feel so full. so sensitive.
you've pretty much run out of energy, only able to beg for more as he continues relentlessly thrusting into you— reminding you of the immense stamina he's built up over years in the military.
"you can take it right?" he huffs, hand wrapped around your torso tightly, holding you against him. "you're doing so good, darling."
you grit your teeth, whimpering a soft "yes, sir".
that's just the thing he needs to quicken his pace, making your eyes roll back even further than they already were. it barely takes a few minutes before he releases his seed into you, hole clenching around him as you milk him dry.
without warning, he presses his finger right onto your folds, being the trigger for your orgasm. you cum all over his cock, making a mess as it coalesces with the loads that's already dried on the bed.
cw: afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of sex 18+ MDNI
Simon loved to shower with you, but he loved watching you shower even more.
There was a certain intimacy and sensuality to showering with you. Watching the water sluice down body over the hardened peaks of your breasts, down the curve of your back and ass. Your hair darkened by the water, sticking to your face and neck.
But there was something different in seeing you naked normally and in the shower. Simon can't explain it. It was hypnotic. Addictive.
When Simon would come home after a long op he'd drop his bags and toe off his boots already calling out your name. Then he hears the shower running. He doesn't even bother with knocking anymore just opens the bathroom door, the sound muffled by the pattering of water against your body and bathroom tiles and just take in the view of you.
The glass is a vignette of steam as you're lathering clouds of perfumed suds all over your body completely unaware your boyfriend is watching you like some pervert. Any other normal boyfriend would just make his presence known and probably join you in the shower. Not Simon. He would be content to watch with a half lidded gaze and half hard cock as you massage all those nice smelling shampoos, conditioners and shower gels in. He should get in the shower with you. God knows he probably smells like sweat and someone else's blood all metallic and musky, coppery and earthy.
"Jesus Christ-!" You shriek as you finally lift your gaze up and see Simon leaning against the door watching you. "Simon why don't you fucking knock?"
"Nice to see you too, love." The corner of his lips tug upwards, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Don't stop on my account. You didn't do yer conditioner." Simon jerks his chin towards the shower shelf with your array of products.
You can't help but roll your eyes as you reluctantly grab the conditioner. "Fuckin' weirdo." You mutter under your breathe as you squeeze a dollop into your hand, glaring at Simon while doing it. "Did you even call me? Thought you were getting home later."
Simon shrugs as he steps forward and leans against the shower door. "Wanted to surprise you." Those soft brown eyes of his are locked onto the way the water cascades down your sternum, how it drips off your pebbled nipples. Your drenched hair sticking to the back of your neck, forehead and temples framing your face into an image Simon wishes he could sear into his brain. The water glistens and highlights every delicious dip and curve of your body. He could take a photo. Then add it to his ever growing collection of lewd photos of you in his phone.
"Are you gonna shower too, Si?" You finger comb the conditioner through your hair as you turn to him, his eyes are still taking you in like you're a marble statue in a museum. All soft and perfectly shaped. He could drag you out of the shower and into the bedroom and stuff his aching cock into that cunt he missed so much. Or he could strip off his clothes right now, step into the shower and press you up against the cold tiles as he'd stuff you full of his thick fingers until your thighs started to shake. Tempting offers all of them, but he had to wait at least two minutes until you can rinse out your conditioner.
"Take your time, love. I've got all night." Simon's length was starting to strain at his jeans now, but you know what they say. Good things come to those who wait, right?
Trying to walk squeeze by Simon when he’s standing is hard enough, but when he’s sitting? It’s like a Herculean task. He manages to take up just as much room as he always does, if not more—legs spread wide, feet kicked out in front of him. He's like a human-sized boulder, and it's impossible to get to where you need to go if he's in your path.
"Christ—" you kicked at his foot, "Close your fucking legs, LT."
He grumbled something unintelligible, glaring blankly into the middle distance and making no effort to ease up in his seat or grant you the space you needed to pass.
"I’m serious," you huffed, "There’s no way your balls are so big that you can’t spare a few inches of legroom for me."
It sort of just slipped out; a low-effort joke you hoped might get him to empathize with your struggle—or maybe embarrass him into closing his fucking legs.
"Might be."
Simon didn’t bother looking up at you when he spoke. He remained statuesque, thick arms crossed over his wide chest.
"What?"
"Balls might be ‘at fuckin big," now he looked up, that deep glare finding your face. "Try findin' time for a wank in 'is line o’work."
"I find plenty of time," you shot back quickly, trying to keep up with his odd brand of humor—was it humor? "What? Shower's too good for you? Can’t jerk off in bed like a normal person?"
"Tired." He shrugged.
His eyes were half-lidded, frustrated, but not angry, and when he tilted his head to the side, an almost imperceptible gesture, you thought the conversation was done. You thought you might be able to kick your way past his legs; be able to storm off, knowing you had lost this battle, and allow yourself the time to stew over it.
But then he dropped his forearms to his thighs with a quiet huff—whether it was one of amusement or not, you could never tell with him.
"'Nd the mess ain't worth it."
You swallowed, almost taking a step back out of sheer surprise that he was being so direct. Granted, Simon's only method of communication was to speak candidly, or not at all.
“Maybe you just need someone to…help you out,” there was no hesitancy to your words, though you couldn't hide the slight waver in your voice. “Somewhere pretty to…for—for easy clean up...”
And that’s how you wound up face down on Simon's bed, bent over yourself on shaky hands and trembling knees. A calloused palm pressed against your back, forcing you to arch, squirming while he fucked his previous load back into you.
"Pretty li’l cumslut," his voice was almost jovial, despite the gravelly baritone he maintained, as he watched the messy combination of slick and cum drip down the backs of your thighs. "S'at what you are, sweetheart?"
"I—mmh…Ye-es—"
Groaning at your easy submission, the quiver in your voice as you confirmed his query, he slid his hand down from your upper back, maneuvering between your shoulder blades and pressing down on the side of your head in a gentle but apparent show of control. You arched further, unable to stop yourself from chasing that perfect angle—the one that let you feel him between your ribs, that pushed the air from your lungs while he pulled another orgasm from you.
"Yeah, s’right," his free hand came down to rest on the curve of your ass, spreading you further—wider—for his own enjoyment. "’Nd whose fuckin’ cum dumpster are ya?"
"Please—Simon!"
Your cry of his name inadvertently answered his question, and he growled in recognition, bringing his hand down hard over the flesh of your ass before squeezing.
"Yeah, s’fuckin’ right—" another squeeze, "Mine."
His grip on your ass faltered slightly, just enough to let his palm sweep inwards, his thumb brushing against the tight rim of your asshole while you gasped beneath him.
"Think when I’ve pumped your pretty cunt full, you’ll let me fill ya ‘ere?" He pressed lightly, watching your eyelids flutter as you drooled onto his bedspread.
You moaned wantonly, keening at his words; his filthy promises and desperate touches. The lazy arch of your back against the pressure of his thumb and silent mouthing of his name—that was answer enough for him.
"Yeah—fuck, gonna give it to ya, sweetheart," he practically crooned it, determined to provide what you both wanted again, and again, and again. "Give ya every fuckin’ drop..."
It was so much easier for him to avoid getting cum on his sheets like this, with you so desperate to take everything he mercilessly fucked into you.
you fumble with the length of the cloth, tossing the lose cotton dress over your head. arms popping out the short sleeves as the rest of the night dress drapes down your body.
airy violet fabric printed with small flowers was definitely not what simon riley intended to see. he stops, large shoulders slumping as he understands.
no chance he was getting a lay... but may as well give it a shot. fuck it.
"..luv, wots wi' the granny jammies?"
"its called a night gown si'," you step out from the closet. waltzing past him in search of your silk eye mask. "and its obviously for sleeping."
simons frowns, eyes shifting into that large puppy look he insists he doesnt have. alas, you ignore him. puffy slippers gliding over wood whilst you leave your man high and dry. his pants already tight just from anticipation alone, figuring the night was dedicated to mingling bodies and messy hair. expecting ruined sheets and a glowing girl the following morning.
i mean, your night routine makes you glow too. but simons heads were screaming for something, hazing his vision with swimming lust.
hes quickly beside you before youre even able to fix your pillows to your liking. "no. not tonight," youre quicker to shut him down.
"didn' even get t'say anythin'."
"it's obvious." you raise a brow at his peeking boner. a thick blush creeps over his neck, eyes crinkling with amuesment. immediately are you swatting away large hands that try to pry at the sleeves of your gown. "simon! quit acting like a teenager,"
"lovie please, jus' ah quickie?" he nearly whines. thick voice tinged at its edges. simon hated quickies. always left him more pent up than if he had nothing at all.
"you know the drill. night gown means no pound town." you dismiss him with another wave. "go jerk off in the shower or something."
ghost fucking your throat viscously, tears well up in your innocent bambi eyes as the room floods with filthy wet moans. he pats the back of your head, encouraging you like the good little doll you are to take him whole
until your eyes are rolling back, fluttering shut due to the intense burn, drool dribbling down onto the floor creating a small puddle. his cock forming a bulge down your neck as you struggle to breath, gagging from his massive size as he continues thrusting relentlessly
"ey, easy love, don't be blackin' out on me" he taps your cheeks with his gloved fingers, wiping your smudged mascara as he pulls out of your mouth. you wrap your arms around his calf clinging to him, as you bury your face against his thigh letting out little whimpers, pain and pleasure electrifying your body, looking up at him with hazed eyes too fucked to think straight
he tilts his head to the side slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth beneath the mask. his fingers move slowly through your hair, waiting for your breathing to settle. the second he decides you are calm enough, he jolts your chin sharply, forcing you upwards and back to where you belong
right in front of his dick, with his cock resting on your tongue, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes waiting for him to stuff you again, his perfect little doll
this is a repost from my side blog (@/luvrdollz) trying to put all my writing in one area
★—ryomen sukuna who falls for the pretty girl he spots for at the gym—★
you had always had the ability to make heads turn.
from your pretty face, to your strong but feminine body, long legs and the faint smell of vanilla that accompanied your presence, it was more often than not that men lined up for your number.
but ryomen sukuna refused to be like other men . not that he was immune to your charms , but because you seemed so....comfortable around him.
that day in the gym, almost a year ago, you had approached him after noticing his indifference to you, to spot for you.
sukuna thought it was that you trusted him to not be like the other men who just wanted to get into your pants. and it killed him every day because at the end of your gym sessions, when you would smile at him and thank him, his heart would treacherously speed up.
he would always look around for you , first thing after entering the gym. somehow his daily dose of happiness had become interlinked with you.
his misty mornings had come to become associated with your home made protein cookies and the smell of cocoa and vanilla.
he would eagerly look forward to hearing your laugh after his sarcastic remark about wrongly using one of the equipments or watching your face light up with a satisfied smile after breaking a new record or increasing your load.
even worse were the nights where he would wake up with a boner, pants strained and cock rock hard and aching. and he would jerk off to the memory of your ass as you did your weighted bulgarian squats. your name spilling from his lips as he imagined how tight your cunt would feel around his girth. how your skin would feel under his fingers. if his sheets would smell like vanilla the next morning. if you would taste like the cookies yo—
gods help him. he was a goner.
he couldn't even meet your gaze on the days following after those nights. but then you would give him that smile and say a stupid joke to make him laugh, mistaking his silences for a shit day and he would fall for you all over again.
so he did the things he could. things which he kinda had control over.
linger a little longer after the sessions.
lean down a little lower when you spoke to him.
smile a little longer at your jokes.
eat your cookies a little slower to savour the taste.
walk you to your car in an attempt to bask a little longer in your presence.
yet he had never been able to ask you for your number. you trusted him to respect you and your boundaries. and he would rather die than break that.
so that was how a lonely Sunday night found him—sitting at his kitchen counter and staring morosely at the protein cookie of the day.
you were going to be gone on a family vacation. which meant an entire week without you. your smiles. your laughs. your jokes.
your fucking protein biscuits which he had come to love so much.
he brought over his knife to divide it into seven pieces. yes, it was pathetic and sad and depressing and a few other adjectives. but that was exactly how sukuna was feeling.
but then a note slipped out from inside it . and sukuna's heart stopped.
'' xx xxx xxx xxxx ~ i made a few more flavours and slipped them into your gym bag. lmk if they taste alright :) ''
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