punkkture

[punkkture]

NSFW alphabet with John Price

Rating: R

Warnings: NSFW alphabet, 18+ only

A is for... aftercare

After the rough of the storm, John's all about grounding you, his hands gentle yet firm running over your skin as he murmurs praise in your ear. He always drags you closer to him, staying pressed to your side and making sure that you feel utterly safe and claimed before you drift off. There's no teasing, no subtle games, just heavy breathing and the faintest of touches from his fingers against your sensitive places.

B is for... body part

It goes as no surprise that John's most favourite part of you is your ass (you simply CANNOT convince me otherwise) along with your inner thighs. He worships them like sacred ground. His fingers always leave light bruises from where he's held you there.

C is for... cum

John's cum is hot, thick, and messy. He loves to fill you deep, feeling you clamp down around him as he unloads with slow, heavy thrusts. Sometimes (rarely) he'll pull out, dripping strings of cum over your lower stomach or over your tits, but he usually finishes in you.

D is for... dirty secret

He's secretly obsessed with watching you touch yourself when you think he's not looking. He loves to watch your hips grind against the sheets and your fingers desperately chasing the edges of your pleasure. He likes to imagine your breath hitching, cheeks flushed, and sometimes he interrupts you with his hands or mouth just so you can beg him to put you out of your misery. He makes you come in less than a minute.

E is for... experience

John is quite a few years older than you, so he's had his fair share before meeting you (not that he's a hoe or anything) but he definitely knows what he's doing. He knows exactly how to tease you and how to find your weak spots. He's confident and commanding, but he learns to understand your own rhythm very quickly.

F is for... favourite position

Missionary, purely because he wants to watch every inch of your face twist in pleasure and pain beneath him. He pins your wrists above your head with one hand and uses his weight to hold you captive. John grinds into you with slow, PUNISHING thrusts that leave you gasping his name over and over like a broken record. When he occasionally switches to doggy, his grip on your hips tightens as he fucks into you hard and fast.

G is for... goofy

In the bedroom, he's mostly serious, but when he's relaxed he'll let a small smirk through. He'll sometimes throw in a teasing joke here or there when you least expect it, which at often times breaks the tension, before dragging you back into his raw and almost brutal fucking.

H is for... hair

He keeps it trimmed but not bare, it's rough and masculine just like the rest of him. There's a thick trail leading down from his lower abs, and when your mouth is on him he watches your eyes flick down to it like you're starving. He loves when you press your nose into that trail as you take him deeply in your mouth, getting lost in him.

On you? He doesn't give a fuck if you shave or not, but if you leave it natural... he groans against your cunt like it drives hm feral. He'll spread your lips with his fingers and tongue you like he's been starved, all the while muttering how soft and messy you are. So perfect. Sometimes, he pulls back from between your thighs just to see how slick you are, and then proceeds to dive right back into what's his.

I is for... intimacy

He's rough and demanding but fiercely tender in stolen moments. His touch constantly lingers on your skin long after he's actually touched you. His eyes never leave yours, a darkly possessive hunger in his own that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world.

J is for... jack off

Quick, filthy, and usually done with you on his mind. John likes to imagine your soft moans, the way you arch into him. Sometimes he jerks off slow and deliberate, edging himself to the though of you, until he finally lets himself let go, your face being the last thing his mind sees before total ecstasy.

K is for... kink

Domination is foundation. Keep that in mind. Hair pulling, light choking, and lightly marking you as his own with subtle bruises that bloom like flowers. He loves to claim you, but he's a gentle guy at heart (really!) so he makes sure not to rough you up too hard. He does it lovingly, and you love it. He savours teasing you and making you absolutely helpless, forcing you to trust him as he pushes your limits just enough to make you beg for mercy.

L is for... location

Anywhere that feels a little dangerous. Car seats, kitchen counter, etc. He loves the thrill of possibly being caught, and it drives his unearthly need for you even higher. However, his most favourite place is and will always be your bed, where he can spread you out and take his time completely ruining you.

M is for... motivation

Your surrender. When you're breathless and begging him, thats the moment where his hunger turns absolutely feral. John loves the way your body reacts simply to his touch alone, how your voice breaks as he dominates you, and the feeling of possession he has when he's inside of you.

N is for... no

No sloppy, lazy, or distracted sex. It's a big turn off and a big no no for him. Every touch, kiss, and thrust needs to mean something to him. He hates when the mood is half-assed. John wants full attention when you're having sex, he wants the intensity and connection that comes with raw and unfiltered sex.

O is for... oral

He's a demanding lover, sure, but an expert giver. His tongue learns every sensitive part on your body, and he loves to tease your clit with a very slow precision. When it's the other way around, he loves when you take him deeply, watching your throat move as you swallow him whole (plus he rewards you with filthy praise when you do this, so there's a bonus).

P is for... pace

He starts slow, grinding and teasing you with a deliberate pressure as he loves to watch you squirm with need. Then, without any warning, he switches to fast, hard thrusts. He loves watching as you get driven to the very edge and back again with his punishing and unrelenting pace.

Q is for... quickie

Quickies are not such a big turn on for John. Sure, he's had his fair share and they've been great, but he always likes to spend more time ruining you. Just like he hates when the mood is half-assed, quickies don't give him enough time to become fully immersed in the sex, so he tends to stay away from them. Unless you're suuuper needy and give him those puppy eyes he can't resist, then that's a different story.

R is for... risk

He's a risk-taker in bed, always pushing your boundaries. Whether it's teasing you in public or trying new toys and positions in secret, the danger of it all seems to excite him, and his boldness is only fuelled by the trust that you give him.

S is for... stamina

Endless. He can go for hours if you let him, until you're both completely spent. John thrives on your exhaustion, it makes him feel as if he's done a good job, using every ounce of strength he has to claim you over and over and over again.

T is for... toys

Handcuffs, vibes, and floggers are all staples in his small collection. He uses toys on you when the mood strikes. Sometimes he lets you take control of them, watching you pleasure yourself, and we all know that he gets off on that, majorly.

U is for... unfair

He's merciless with his teasing, using slow and deliberate touches on your most sensitive spots that bring you to the edge without letting you fail. He knows exactly how to make you bed, and keeps you hanging on to an orgasm with every whisper and breath.

V is for... volume

He's definitely not quiet during sex, he likes you to know how good you make him feel. His voice is low and he moans at his peak. He loves talking you through it too, the sound of his voice making you even more eager for him.

W is for... wildcard

John secretly loves when you get on top of him, slightly taking control and riding him rather than him being in control ALL the time. It's a pleasant surprise and a little change for him makes him all the more happier. The role reversal makes his dick twitch and his mind blur, a delicious secret he could never admit.

X is for... x-ray

Thick and heavy, John has the type of cock that stretches you out and leaves you sore for days (in the best way). He's got a wide girth that your hand barely wraps around, with a fat blush tip that drags against your g-spot and pushes up to your cervix when he's buried deep inside you.

Y is for... yearning

His sex drive is relentless, and he's always hungry for you. He craves the way you taste, feel, and the way your body feels when you're pinned underneath him. When you're (regrettably) apart, his mind constantly drifts to dirty thoughts and fantasies of how he'll take you next.

Z is for... Zzz

John crashes hard after sex, dead asleep within minutes, unless he decides to light up his cigar or have a cigarette. However, he always makes sure you're perfectly goof before dosing off, arms wrapped around you, protective and warm. His breathing evens out as he holds you tight.

Tag list 𖠋: @punkkture @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @bittersweetfig @mlthree @cupidswan @siphon07 @decaffeinateddelusionbread

[punkkture]

hr simon riley. nuff said.

{ word count: 2070 }

.ೃ࿔*:· —  it was a new job. the first real big one. one that actually could lead somewhere and you wanted to do good at. it's only been three months, and you think you're starting to get comfortable with where you're at. the only thing looming above your head is the two visits to hr.

the job wasn't hard, at least it didnt feel like it. sitting at a desk in an office. the hardest part was how much the environment had shifted from your previous jobs. men were crawling all over now. the brooding kind, the ones that take everything so serious.

and they took it very serious when seeing how short that one houndstooth skirt was.

that was the first visit to his office. just an email sent in the middle of the day, nothing to draw attention from those around the office waiting with open ears. it was simple, and you thought that was the worst part. how professional it was to get yelled at like that.

" subject: Human Resources. I've received a couple complaints today that I would like to go over and address with you. 1:15pm - please do not be late. Simon Riley Head of Human Resources Room 113-A, Building C Ext: 1072 "

it was just long enough of a wait until 1:15 for you to sit and pretend to type up an email task. that nasty feeling in your chest of guilt, and the hot flush of shame from the idea of being in trouble.

you walked down the hallway and to the front of his door at 1:10.

fogged windows and a black panel with his name. no one really went down this hallway unless they were here to see him. which didn't help the feeling of shame all that much.

knocking on the wooden part of his door before hearing the, 'come in.' your heart was already in the pit of your stomach, fingers absentmindedly pulling down your skirt a little bit more. giving an apologetic smile before he even had the chance to say anything.

it was quick. he kept it short.

"you understand the dress code policy, yeah?" - "it's just going to be a verbal warning this time." - "i don't want to have to see you in here again for something like this."

you nodded the whole time, shifting in the worn-down chair, and pulling the skirt down more while you did it. of course it was embarrassing being in there.

you opted for linen suit pants the rest of the month.

then the second incident didn't even feel like as big of an issue as the first. it was the way he handled this that made it feel worse.

the email came through once again, it had been almost five weeks since that first visit. just as simple, just as professional. smoothing over your blouse when you got to that fogged glass pane and knocking after a couple moments.

his eyes lingered on you a little longer. glancing down at the loose top and his eyebrows even furrowed just for a split second when he noticed you had abandoned that skirt from the previous visit.

simon was just the slightest bit condescending.

"do you understand what you're making the men here say?"

he said there were complaints about 'too much perfume.' which was reasonable. understandable. but he just made it feel dirty.

and it ended with another verbal warning. he said that three of those were a writeup, and he really didn't want to see you in here again.

now a couple weeks later, it was starting to feel less shameful to walk into work. putting your hair in those soft curls, a bow to pin back a pretty section of hair, only two sprays of the perfume behind your neck, buttoning the blouse all the way to the collar, and smoothing down the ivory suit pants.

this time you found yourself in front of his office, you could've cried before knocking. he hadn't sent an email this time, opting to call your extension, and get you in there now.

when you opened the door, your eyes couldn't meet his this time. you already knew what you were in there for.

fifteen minutes ago you had leaned over your desk to gather papers and loose sticky notes. the light toned fabric stretching over your ass and really leaving nothing to the imagination. only realizing too late what had just happened. it was like you could feel the eyes on you.

it felt so humiliating.

simon leaned back in his chair. the black button up stretching over his chest when he sighed. staring a hole into the center of your face, even if you refused to make eye contact. he spoke first.

"do you know how many complaints i've had about you?"

you couldn't say anything to that. what kind of answer were you supposed to give? maybe this job just was out of your understanding, it wasn't a good fit, no one wanted you here. that's what this felt like.

he let the words sink in and soak for a couple seconds. standing, walking around his desk and pointing to the chair in front of it. when you started to move, he walked towards the door and locked it.

only speaking once more when the weight of him was back in the chair across from you.

"skirt was too short . . . then it was the perfume . . and now the whole office can see what colors you prefer underneath? c'mon . ." he sounded disappointed.

the heat in your face traveled down your throat and into the center of your chest. it was just the worst. keeping your eyes down and a guilty apologetic look on your face. "it wasn't my intention." was what you said. keep it professional.

his finger tapped on the edge of desk, he was contemplating, but still staring you down.

"i'm starting to think you enjoy coming here. you were employed thirteen weeks ago. and you've been in here three times."

that made you look at him and swallow. if you really focused on the feeling, you could've thrown up.

"i apologize for what happened. there was n-" your voice is shallow before he cuts you off.

"you're not stupid." his tone was flat. "you know what tight pants do when you have red on underneath."

the air between the two of you felt so dense. it was one of those moments where you can't focus on anything besides what's currently happening. you couldn't say anything, even if you sat there thinking of a sentence for fifteen seconds.

and he let those seconds simmer. sat there and continued to let you think about what was going on. another sigh parted his lips before he leaned back again.

"stand up." it was so casual, there was instinct in the way you listened to higher ups. the sliding of the chair was the only sound as you rose in front of his desk.

"turn around."

his eyes were now hot on your backside. you were gnawing a new cut into the skin of your cheek. you weren't sure what to do with your hands. picking at your nails while you waited for him to say something else.

" . . . hides less than that little skirt did, if i'm being honest."

that was the final breaking moment in the professionalism of hr department head, simon riley. the atmosphere changed, and you could tell this was already so much different then the previous two times inside these walls. his chair squeaked and his shoes moved across the floor.

your heart skipped, and there was an unsettling lump in the back of your throat. it was more than nerves at this point.

his next sigh warmed the back of your neck. his hands rested on the side of your waist.

"why do you keep doing this, hm?" his voice sounded soft, but his fingers were kneading into your skin. his dark eyes looked down at you from an angle, still behind. the warm pads of his thumb rubbing into your bone gently.

"you are either desperate for attention . . . or far more naive than i give you credit for." simon's tone was so calm. it felt wrong for the way the tension was settling. like this was something he had thought about and contemplated on for too long.

your eyes stayed straight or looking at the ground below you. his fingers were so warm on the fabric covering your skin. it was bleeding into those parts of you you've been trying to avoid.

your lips parted to speak, only a faint attempt at words came out. he filled the empty gap for you.

"i have been patient. far too patient with you." his fingers moved to angle your hips. coaxing you to bend at the waist - and you did. his grip wasn't tight, there was full leverage to pull away if you wanted.

of course you didn't. not from a man like him. your body bent slightly, letting him press his hips back into your ass.

"this whole time you've been dressing like a promotion is just one tight blouse away." his voice stayed composed.

heavy fingers massaging into your muscle, you could feel his eyes just staring at your ass. the red lace even more noticeable with the pants stretched across it.

"you tell me to stop and i give you corporates hr number . . " he offered as an easy out. a second passed, then five more. nothing.

so he kept going. smoothed his left hand over your ass, one of his fingers dipping into the hem and hooking around it. tugging for fun. the right one around your waist came down in front to pull down the zipper of those ivory suit pants.

little whimpers started to leave your lips, being caught in the moment like this was not what you had expected this morning. but the idea of it being wrong, just made everything feel sooo good.

those pants came down just enough for him to lean back some and look at those pretty panties close up.

he laughed. just a short one.

"oh, you do like comin' in here to see me." his thumb sliding down the soaked slit between your thighs.

the whole time, he stayed completely composed. at least as best as he could with how hard the tent in his pants was straining. just a soft coo was the only break when he pushed them to the side and dipped his thumb in, just to tease.

your fingers found purchase on his forearm, it was across your tummy now. keeping you at that slightly bent angle for him. you were holding tight, putting all your energy into squeezing his arm instead of moaning.

even now however, you tried to defend yourself against the complaints. wanting to just say something to soothe that guilt still buried deep in your chest. "i wasn't trying to cause a problem with other people."

the voice was so soft. he knew you meant it. but he also knew you meant it when you apologized the last two times you were in that seat at his desk. so all it did was agitate him.

he pulled out, started messing with his belt.

"what did you think you were doing? you're not oblivious, and im not either. can see the way you wait for me to talk to you in the break room. know you're just aching for me to tell you goodnight when we clock out . ." his tone started to get more pointed. he got his pants down just enough to slip himself out. "could've filed a complaint myself."

the last sigh he let out was when he finally leaned you over a bit more and started to press the leaking tip of his cock into you. it wasn't sweet. it felt so wrong. you're staring directly at papers on his wall that talk about what a proper work place environment looks like.

there was no doubt that this would not be the last time he had you like this. that much was evident.

in the way he quietly groaned, the way his hips already stuttered, and his fingers dug around your waist more. you were already staining the black fabric of his chino pants.

"shoulda done this after that little skirt incident . . would've saved us a lot of bullshit."

ೃ࿔* tag list: @vanillarosekiss @simonskitty @cu456 @silverwoodlynx @mlthree @vint4geroses @ktmjoslin @darlingchanse @xangelbnnyx @jgissle12 @asherscove @bunty-girl @diorpar @sky-robin  @ldrtypeofgirl @mentalhorror @teranya @chawitea @all-by-myself98 @jinx53 @alfiestreacle @frazzledfawn @iamtoriasworld @annierosesposts @dude1634 @happysmappy @itgetsdarksometimes35 @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @slut-lmao @theyluvlaur @bruisedfig @pinkthxt @hobiebrownenthusiast @h0lydrag0ns @cashmereandcookies 

[punkkture]

guys omg. we've heard of boss simon riley. but what about hr simon riley ? im gonna have a field day, be back in an hour

update: here's the link to read it teehee ˋ°•*⁀➷ 🦢

[punkkture]

omg !!! you guys have been putting the coolest ideas in my request box lately !! i plan on getting them done. hardest part is with my new work schedule im here 55 hours a week !!!

they won’t let me bring my mac { boooo don’t know why } and i can’t write on my work computer lol !!

writing on my phone has never been a favorite, and when i try to change the hex codes for the words it looks on wonky on mobile { another booooo } but trust, punkkture is back !!!

[punkkture]

woof woof guys, woof woof

Preacher's Daughter | Southern Gothic AU

content warnings: none (again) that i know of!

word count: 0.8k

iii. THE DEVIL KNOWS YOUR NAME

You tried not to think about Simon after that, but the more you tried, the harder it became.

You saw him in your dreams at night, every night for a week. Every dream was different and it was like he had taken over your mind completely.

It was only when you saw him again – hands dirty, shirt clinging to his back in the sweltering heat – that you managed to rid of the nightly occurrences.

To you, it felt like fate was playing cruel games with names you weren’t supposed to know. Or maybe not fate, but something more malevolent.

You didn’t cross paths by accident. You’d gone looking, not that you’d ever admit it to anyone, especially not your father. He was waiting there, though he’d never say that either.

The church loomed behind you ominously, with its white steeple cracked and leaning. The graveyard was usually quite this time of day, and it lived up to the expectation that day. The only thing that dulled the quietness was the incessant churning of the cicadas, their chorus echoing through the tall grass.

You found him there, leant against a crumbling headstone, smoke curling from his lips as usual. He didn’t look surprised to see you.

“You come here often?” you asked, voice hushed like you were sinning.

He shrugged, eyes shaded beneath the brim of his cap.

“Quiet place.”

You moved closer to him, careful not to step on any of the names on the burial spots.

“You knew him, didn’t you?” No answer. Just a drag from the cigarette, bright red embers burning like a warning. That was now the second time you'd felt as if something was warning you within the span of a week or so.

“Were you in a war? I heard people saying that there are some really bad ones somewhere out East.”

Still nothing.

His eyes lingered though, watching you like he was trying to decipher a language unfamiliar to his own mother tongue.

“You ask too many questions,” he said, softly this time.

You blinked, ready to turn away in a heat of embarrassment and distaste. But then he said your name. Your full name. Voice lower, speaking clearly. He said it slow, like a psalm. It made something in your chest crumple in on itself.

You stood motionless there for a moment, the wind barely moving like it too was holding its breath.

He didn’t look at you when he said it, no. Just stared past you, maybe even through you, like your name was carved on another gravestone that he was just reading aloud.

“How do you know my name?” you asked, and the words felt too fragile. Too late to fix that now.

Simon turned slightly and looked at you properly.

“He used to talk about you,” he said. “Your father, a long time ago.”

He thought that the answer was enough. Not to you it wasn’t.

You stepped a little closer, eyes narrowing, searching his face for secrets he wasn’t letting on to. “Why were you at the wake?”

A pause. Long and silent.

“To pay respects. Isn’t that what most people go to wakes for?” He said it more as a statement rather than a question.

“You’re lying.”

His jaw tensed at your response, like he had somewhat lost the game of being the "mysterious outsider".

“You shouldn’t be here,” he replied, quietly.

“Neither should you.”

The cigarette burned to the filter between his fingers, and he let it fall, just to be crushed beneath his boot.

You could hear your heart beating louder than before, louder than the church bells that had just started to chime, louder than God himself.

“Why are you really here?" you almost whispered.

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing among the dead, your name still lingering in the air like a ghost.

-

It had surprisingly rained for three night straight. This was certainly somewhat peculiar to the town, although short-lived, but was appreciated deeply by the people. Although being a blessing the crops and fertile soil, it was the kind of rain that crawled under doors and dragged mud through the creaky church pews.

You hadn't seen Simon at all since that day in the cemetery. It seemed to be a recurring theme; you would interact for a mere few minutes, and he'd disappear for days.

Despite this, you could still feel him. A presence like no other, and it was clear. The kind of feeling that made the back of your neck prickle and gave you telling goosebumps on your bare arms, hairs standing up straight. You surely weren't imagining it.

Mrs Harrows, your dear neighbour, said she saw a man walking out past the old schoolhouse, long after dark. Said he had a slight limp, and that he didn't answer when she called out to him. He just kept on walking, coat slick and heavy with rain.

You didn't even need to ask her to describe him.

Tag list 𖠋: @punkkture @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnii777 @bruisedfig @mlthree @cupidswan @siphon07 @decaffeinateddelusionbread @kiss4tell @kylies-love-letter @catssmirkingrevenge

ohhh guys we are SO back with this series!!! you don't even know.

[punkkture]

HIIII HOW ARE UUU my most favourite moot everrr??!!

why have we both lowk gone inactive at the same time,,, i really need to start writing again grrr

anyways, i miss u lots and LOVE U LOTSSSS and i hope ur doing well! lots of kisses👼

AHHHHHHHH MY POOKI OMGGG

🤍🤍🤍🤍

missed u and happy u back wahhhh omg i love u

[punkkture]

omg if this is annoying feel free to like ignore this i completely get it but i almost wanna get to know u better now that we're moots?? is that bad??

like what's ur go-to drink order if you had to go out somewhere? what are your favorite sleeves on a top/blouse? corsets yay or nay? fruits or nuts in ice cream??

eeeek omg so sorry I haven't been online much because work has consumed me and I can't wait to not work anymore. ily moot ily mocalocha

everyday I wake up up and think 'is today a match day or a chai day ?'

but if im at home and want to try and not spend money my fav drink of all time is the yogi positive energy sweet tangerine tea. I love it so much it's so good.

I work a full on 9-5 and the only blouse I own is frilly and very flowy. im very picky about blouses. so its got like a frilled collar all the way down to my tummy in the center and its so cute. I wore it for my first day in 95 degree weather.

and here's a fruit / dessert hack I love and eat up every time. get like two-three oranges and get them all peeled and in a bowl. then some frozen chocolate bars crushed up into small bits, caramel, and whip cream. plsplspslpls omg its so good. I love oranges if you can't tell.

how about you ?

[punkkture]

i just realized im moots with my fav author ever??? what????

bye i'm gonna go scream in my pillow omg HI I LOVE U AND UR WORK SM <333

WAHHHH TYSM !!!! i love my moots sm, i 🤍 u

[punkkture]

not a request but in love ur fics :p right up my alley !and its so so hard to find an author who writes the kind of stuff im into WITH the characters i’m into 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

wahhh thank u sweet hunnie pie :') im happy youre here

[punkkture]

69 w simon 69 w simon

{ word count: 668 }

.ೃ࿔*:· —  you were both a little drunk. he's never sloppy drunk, but sleazy drunk? simon was definitely that. dick always half-hard even when he doesn't mean to be. always when he starts to drink too much.

now partially naked in bed, it starts with a dare. your soft voice only barely carrying a sense of seriousness. it was soft, almost slurred, a joke.

"i think you cum quicker than i do." it was said while laying against his chest, feeling the curve of his collarbone under your fingertips. not outright a tease, but more of a challenge.

you had been testing him all night. ever since that second glass of wine. touching him too much for it to feel normal. putting on that pretty babydoll slip for bed. kissing his jaw and cheek with sloppy stumbles.

"yeah? you think?" he mumbles, an idea of a smile on his face.

it's how it starts. the essence of a dare against a man too cocky about his own dick and power over his pretty baby. but the words had slipped out before you could understand what you just started.

his hand already pushing up the soft slip while he settles the view of your bare cunt over his face, bending his own legs a little just to give himself more leverage. his other hand was pulling down his sweats, letting you do the rest.

the second your lips started giving soft kisses to his tip, it was game on. you started gentle - licking at his shaft and making sure all your spit was drooling right down onto him. a sticky string of it mixed with his precum, connecting to your lips after the last kiss.

he didn't waste any time. pulling you down onto his face and spreading your thighs. wet and sloppy with his tongue already fucking into you.

it gets you to gag on him, kicking your calf a little bit while the feeling of it made your body twitch.

you spit onto your hand, wrapping it around him and squeezing while shoving the rest deep into your throat. barely getting all of him in there half the time, this makes his hips stutter, push up just a little more. finally thinking you're winning a little bit.

but he spits onto the already soppy cunt he's making out with and gives a harsh kiss right on your clit, groaning against it and then laying his tongue flat against you.

your hips try to pull away and your mouth lets go of him, just to gasp and whimper. his cock is so heavy and already leaking over your fingers. you just knew he had to be close. he always cums fast when he's drunk.

but you do too. there's a drunk competitive edge to it all.

you reach your hand back, grab his hair and just shoves him closer, grinding against his mouth. simon nearly whimpers, his one leg twitches.

"fuckin' cheater." he groans against you, hearing the strain in his voice.

if there was one thing he loved more than the feeling of getting his dick sucked all sloppy, it was the thought of knowing you were feeling good because of him.

so you lean into it. high pitched sweet moans and soft gasps of his name followed by the word 'please'. your hand coming back down to squeeze at the base of his cock, letting the tip leak against your tongue.

his hands tighten, his hips buck, and then he pulls you down right onto his face. wet and sloppy. like he's panting against your pussy and is desperate to get you to finish.

but your moans were just too angelic to deny.

he cums everywhere. more than he normally does. against your tongue, a hot string of it getting on your lips while the rest dripped down onto his stomach.

"fuckfuckfuck." he whines while rutting up into your hand a few times.

the idea of you cumming, making him cum, and far quicker than normal.

ೃ࿔* tag list: @vanillarosekiss @simonskitty @cu456 @silverwoodlynx @mlthree @vint4geroses @ktmjoslin @darlingchanse @xangelbnnyx @jgissle12 @asherscove @bunty-girl @diorpar @sky-robin  @ldrtypeofgirl @mentalhorror @teranya @chawitea @all-by-myself98 @jinx53 @alfiestreacle @frazzledfawn @iamtoriasworld @annierosesposts @dude1634 @happysmappy @itgetsdarksometimes35 @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @slut-lmao @theyluvlaur @bruisedfig @pinkthxt @hobiebrownenthusiast @h0lydrag0ns @cashmereandcookies @effyzgirl @avgdestitute

[punkkture]

eat this up like it deserves to be eaten tf up

simon riley x teacher!reader

lowk kinda shit but enjoy after 2 months of no posts (which btw i've gone thru a tragic failed talking stage recently that's been making crash out, so i'm thinking writing hella smut may fix that..? we'll see).

content warnings: vanilla (sort of but not really), fingering, praise kink, sliiiight degredation, mean simon but only playful, time skip cuz i'm lazy like that!

word count: 1.4k

Often, parent-teacher conferences were the bane of your life. Excruciatingly painful hours spent (after an already long day) talking to the children's parents, some of whom were particularly difficult in nature. Still, it had to be done, and it was just another part of your job that needed doing.

However, you did enjoy seeing the parent's faces lighting up when you spoke well of their child, pride becoming one of the most common recurrences in your classroom as most of the kids were perfect. One little girl in particular had a (secret) special place in your heart. The girl in question, Emma Riley, had been an absolute delight to have in class.

She shared her crayons. She said "please" and "thank you". She hugged everyone good morning. That kind of kid made teaching feel like bliss. So naturally, even when you were slightly apprehensive on the night of parent-teacher conference, you were excited almost to meet who had raised such a polite little girl. You expected someone gentle. Maybe a bit shy. Probably the kind of man who read bedtime stories to her every night.

What you weren't expecting was him.

He walked into the tiny classroom with heavy boots and a quiet kind of weight. Broad, muscular shoulders stood out the most on him, and the black hoodie that was layered under his jacket made him seem even bigger. The skull print balaclava peeking out from his pocket wads enough to make you blink twice. Interesting.

"You must be Mr. Riley," you said, standing quickly and offering a smile. "Thank you so much for coming."

His gaze flicked over the cheerful posters on the wall, all hand-made and coloured by the children, before it landed on you. Soft lavender knit sweater, pastel yellow painted nails, and a small dainty necklace resting on your chest. You looked like you belonged in a picture book.

"I try not to make a habit out of it," he said dryly shaking your hand, "But Emma insisted."

That made you laugh. "Well, she's very persuasive. And, honestly? A complete angel. One of the sweetest kids I've ever had."

Simon raised a mock brow. "Emma Riley? My kid?"

You pulled out a folder of drawings. "She helps everyone, always cleans up after herself, she even wrote the cutest story about a unicorn who makes sure everyone is included at lunch. Would you like to see it?"

He stared at the glitter-covered paper you gave him, silent.

"She's such a sweetheart to have in class, really. You must be doing a wonderful job with her. And her mum too, of course. I'd love to meet her one day..?"

A tightness set in around his mouth, something that shifted his expression. "I do my best," he muttered. "Emma's mother hasn't been in the picture since she was a couple years old, so you won't be meeting her."

You paused, unsure how to respond, fingers still brushing over the glittered corner of the drawing you had taken to put back into the folder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume- "

He shook his head gently, the edge of his mouth lifting. "No s'alright. Just... not something I talk about much."

For a moment there was quiet, the kind that lingered. Then his eyes found yours again. A little softer, less guarded.

"She talks a lot about you, y'know. My kid. You've certainly made an impression."

That made you smile, a warmth blooming inside your soft cage of bone. "She's a special one. Honestly, I feel lucky."

There was a brief look he gave you, unreadable, before his mouth twitched into qa small smirk.

"You really are sweet, aren't ya?" His tone dipped. "Almost too sweet."

You blinked at him, like a deer caught in headlights, caught off guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Simon leaned in slightly, teasing and curious. "Just noticing. Makes me wonder if you're like that all the time... or just in a classroom full of six-year-olds."

You felt your face go warm, heart skipping a beat, as a warmth spread past your core and downwards to somewhere much more private.

"I- well-"

His eyes dropped to your mouth for a second too long. "Mm. That's what i thought."

The last thing you had ever expected from the conference was to end up back at Simon's house later that evening, tucked underneath him on his sofa as his daughter slept soundly upstairs.

Arching into every touch, gasping at his hands on your skin. You were so utterly sweet about it. No attitude at all, just soft whimpers and wide doe-eyes like this was the first time someone had ever really handled you.

"Let me walk you back in here like a little lamb, didn't you?" he murmurs. "Didn't even ask what I'd do to to you. Just nodded and followed."

"I trust you," you whisper out into the room.

He chuckled softly. "That's the stupidest part, sweeth'art."

"You're clearly so vanilla, it hurts. S'pathetic how turned on you get just from my voice," he says, hand dipping into your panties, disregard to the skirt that he'd slipped off of you earlier (that was now crumpled up on the floor). "You wanna be used a little, don't ya?"

You moaned, nodding helplessly.

"Course you do. You're too soft to ask for it. You want someone to make you dirty instead."

He was kissing you all over, drawn to your lips over everything, hands moving effortlessly atop your pearl making you gasp in an unexpected pleasure.

"You walk around all day giving stickers out and singing songs, actin' like you've got a single thought in that head of yours that isn't being touched like this."

He was being mean in a playful way, and you knew it.

'Si-" you whimpered out, eyes closed and breathless.

He grabbed your jaw with his free hand, gently but firm, tilting your head to make you look him in the eyes.

"No." he said. "Don't get shy on me now. You're the one who let me bring you back home with me. You're the one who begged me with those pretty eyes."

Your lips trembled slightly in the feeling.

"You knew exactly what you were doing. All soft and innocent like some little doll. And now look at ya. Letting me pull you apart string by string like it's the first time anyone's made you feel good."

You let out the tiniest noise as your thighs clenched together with his hand almost trapped in between. You felt another gush leak from your slit, a wave of embarrassment hitting your cheeks in a pinkish blush.

"Fuckin' hell sweeth'art. You're soaked" he teased, curling his fingers back into something reverent.

You were so utterly embarrassed. Laying on the sofa you even resorting to panting now you were that desperate. But he didn't rush. He didn't stop, either.

"God, you're so fuckin' soft. You don't even fight it do ya? Y'just give in." Simon leaned in closer, his free hand now stroking your side, grounding you as he kept you on edge.

"Don't you dare close your eyes."

You looked at him, barely, tears brimming out of pleasure with your pupils expanded wider than ever.

"Good girl," he whispered, breath hot against your lips. "There she is."

He sped his movements up, not much, but enough to just tip you over the edge with enough pressure to make you gasp and try to twist away from him. But his grip held you firm.

'Ya gonna come for me pretty girl, hm?" he asked tauntingly.

"I- I can't-!" you gasped, hips jerking upwards.

"Yes you can," you said, voice firm and reassuring. "You're doing so good, love. So fuckin' good, just let go. I've got ya."

And just then, like his words were the key to your soul, you broke.

Your whole body arched as you called out his name, softly but with an intensity only Simon could cause. You clutched at him blindly, pulling him in as waves of pleasure rolled over your body.

Simon held you through it, murmuring soft filth against your temple.

"That's it lovie."

"Fuckin' perfect."

"Look how pretty you are when you come for me hm?"

As you collapsed back against the sofa, heart racing and legs trembling, Simon kissed your temple again.

"Did so fuckin' well f'me," he murmured. "Messy little thing. Bet you'll be thinking about this next time you're handing out stickers in that classroom."

You let out a breathless laugh, burying your face in his neck.

"Shut up."

"Mm," he hummed, smug. "Didn't seem to mind me runnin' my mouth five minutes ago, love."

Tag list 𖠋: @punkkture @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnii777 @bruisedfig @mlthree @cupidswan @siphon07 @decaffeinateddelusionbread @kiss4tell @kylies-love-letter @catssmirkingrevenge

[punkkture]

I don't want to seem like a pest (I think this is my 3rd time asking) but, how's puppy girl pt. 3 going??

omfg girl u right im not gonna lie i forgot MY BAD TWIN ILL GET ON THAT 😭

[punkkture]

just thought of a hybrid simon x hybrid reader au. it’s fantasy like almost . . but full of a humiliation kink. which hybrid type do you think the reader should be. , let me know !

[punkkture]

simon who's talking to a girl that just wants to feel like she's in love.

he finds it endearing and almost too sweet. things as empathy and sympathy have been closed off from him for a long time, sometimes he can't remember how to turn on that part of his brain and heart.

there's something so subtle about the way she does it.

the look in her eyes when he notices that she really sees him. or is at least trying to. wants him to know that she can understand whatever he needs her to, just to be apart of something with him.

there isn't anything malicious about it. ever. she comes from a place of kindness that he can only recall growing in the flower patch at his childhood home.

he notices that when she thinks to herself she hides away from mirrors. she wants to see him, but hasn't accepted the act of being seen herself. and honestly he doesn't think its something hes ready to handle.

simon never wants to hurt a sweet girls feelings like that. he just . . doesn't fully get it.

the way she wants to be loved and heard and cared for. he doesn't want to be alone anymore like the way he is, but he knows it wont work. that feeling of learning to be content on your own wasn't a hard thing to grasp, its just harder to let go of that trait now that its harbored inside.

he hopes one day it can work out. but he knows he wont text or call back.

and on occasion, when his nights are restless, or the mornings are starting far too late, he'll go and read through old messages or listen to old songs she would send. but hes always careful to not press any buttons, not allowing himself of getting back into that.

shes a sweet girl. he likes thinking of her, likes to see small things in life that bring her back to him. even if he had lost the number in his phone months ago.

[punkkture]

just got robbed and they took my phone 4/10 experience

[punkkture]

⋆✴︎˚。

-simon isn't a comforting man. not genuinely. not honestly.

his hands warm the skin on your flushed cheeks, just kissing the tears so gently. the touch he gives settles deep into your chest, feeling it claw up into the back of your throat. its suffocating, threatening to make you gag at the mere idea of focusing on it.

the look in his eyes provides a false sense of comfort. emotions that are all too strong, or completely empty. but even a false sense of comfort is better than nothing.

his thumb pushes away a lingering tear that couldnt help but fall once you blinked. maybe just closing your eyes for a moment of rest from what was happening.

your heart is an aching tree, giving life and providing a solace only pure intentions can give. and it wasn't that you intended to hand over your soul to a man that would inevitably cut you down, but rather hopeful he would turn you into something new again.

haunted by these choices you made and watching it eat away at you. but just for a moment, its genuine. his eyes are soft and his voice reminds you of home.

for just a moment, he is the breeze trailing through your fragile leaves, his words are that hot ray of sun shining down on you and telling you that today would be a day worth living.

the melody behind his actions inviting - assuring that days like this will always be here.

its hopeful. yearning. and just desperate for a sense of belonging. everything has purpose, it is your divine right as a soul, a being. but when youre stripped from your soul what do you become? where do you belong?

when a man like him holds your entire sense of self in the palm of his hand, who's heart and soul really is it?

with a head resting on his lap, no words spoken, a gun calloused hand running through your hair and down your face - things are okay. looking up at him with eyes that only seem lost. your eyebrows are curved pathetically, but you dont mean them to be. even with the countless nights the two of you have shared in bed, this might be the only time he will ever see you raw like this. bared completely vulnerable for him.

the shadow of his hulking frame is a comforting sheet over your conscience. a heavy wave of water that you can only hold your breath under for so long.

but you can see the hollow look on his face. like he knows it wont last. two flames next to one another only burn quicker once they become one. even if your flame had burned brighter in the beginning.

he is a man that harbors enough issues of his own. your heart wants him to know that its okay. its more than enough to even show some attention to a girl like you. its hard, but its not forever.

he is not a man that uses the word forever.

[punkkture]

promise i’m not dead, i’ve been too busy sleeping all day, hip hurting so bad but i promise ill be back soon !!!!!!!!

restarting red dead for the 6183829 time so excited