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pseudowho · 5 months ago

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"--and this is the staffroom," Gojo sing-songed, swinging open the door on your First Day Tour, with you a few steps behind him, "--ah! And that's Nanamin. Say hi, Nanamin!"

A tall, suited blond man looked up from his spot on the sofa as you peered in; at first, he simply nodded to you, disinterested. Then, Gojo spoke again while leading you out.

"--he's not very fun, don't worry-- no sense of humour."

Your final glimpse as the door closed, was of the blond man's irritated scowl.

It was true; Kento clearly didn't make people laugh, for he was either too mean or too subtle to be funny. This was the case, at least, until you. And you had no idea what your laughter did to him.

You had formed an alliance of respect, an easy bond that would have been camaraderie if not for Kento's standoffishness. You felt him hover nearby on joint missions, close enough to lunge to your rescue, but far enough that he could resist your magnetism.

Talking, and surveying the abandoned school, you spoke aloud as you walked down the stairs.

"So perhaps I'll take the East Wing, and you take the We--ergh!"

You reeled back, having walked headfirst into a buckled ceiling. Kento stepped to your aid, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, and lifting your chin to look at your forehead. He huffed, barely a puff of breath through his nose, wiping dust from your forehead before grumbling.

"You'll be alright. Not much in there, anyway."

You burst into laughter, and Kento electrified, absolutely rigid. You patted his chest, still giggling as you walked away, cooing back over your shoulder in a way that utterly melted him.

"So mean."

You soon learned that Nanami Kento was possibly the funniest man at Jujutsu High. Dry and unforgiving in a way that made your brittle colleagues crumble, you found yourself, instead, choking back laughter every time he crippled one with another savage put-down.

When Yuuji arrived late to a mission, Kento stepped over to him and, poe-faced, pulled up his shirtsleeve to show Yuuji his wrist.

"This," Kento hummed, flat, "is a watch. You can buy one at any good supermarket."

When a waiter slopped coffee over Kento's shoulder, Kento dabbed at it to the waiter's frantic, apologetic bowing. Kento raised a placating hand and insisted to the confused waiter.

"It's alright. I never liked this suit anyway."

When you stood at the staffroom window with him, watching a monsoon in companionable silence, Kento murmured over the rim of his mug.

"Lovely day."

He had timed it just-so, and barely concealed his lopsided smirk when you choked on your tea. Shoko walked in, drenched, looking at you and Kento in dismay. You coughed, opening your mouth to speak, but Kento got there first, firing shots.

"Is it raining?"

Shoko scoffed, sputtering, while you buckled against the windowsill.

Kento grabbed a hand towel and an umbrella, heading to the door. As Shoko reached for the towel, Kento pressed the umbrella into her hands instead, his expression flat, but his voice edged with a feral pleasure that made you come undone.

"You'll need this."

Kento's meanness was tempered only by his self-deprecation, and when you took as good as you gave, you felt his icey facade melt away completely, revealing such warmth.

It was no wonder you were drawn to each other, when the only reason neither of you laughed together, was because you were in a constant stand-off for who could remain poe-faced the longest. Kento always won.

Still, you felt the need to break him; you had cracked smiles, or the occasional chuckle out of him, but nothing more. You knew nothing more than the truest irony would do it.

The day came; you arrived, to your usual staffroom rendezvous, covered in blood. Kento paled, abandoning his book to rise immediately and reach you in three long strides.

"--you're hurt-- we'll go to Sho--"

"Kento. Stop. It's not my blood-- it's Gojo's."

Kento did a double-take, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, so you explained.

"Gojo invited himself to teach me about Curses that are 'above my paygrade', so he took me to one. I told him this Curse was clearly more powerful than it looked, and Gojo told me to step back so he could handle it. Said he'd even do it without his Infinity on. So I stepped back."

Kento's nose flared, barely perceptible.

"...and?"

You took a deep breath. "So, Gojo has a broken nose--"

Kento broke down with a wheeze, before bursting into a rich, deep rolling laughter that split the clouds with sun. His hands clasped the windowsill, his eyes crinkled, and his shoulders shook with wicked, throaty mirth.

You felt yourself becoming drunk off him, utterly intoxicated by his laughter. Kento couldn't stop himself, trembling with schadenfreude to the point of indecency.

Finally, sighing and straightening as if exhausted, Kento wiped his eyes with the side of his finger, and smiled at you with sweet adoration. Laughter still threatened to break through as he begged you.

"Would you-- would you like to go out for dinner? With me?"

You paused, your expression pained.

"Ah...no. No, thank you."

Kento froze, his face beginning to fall. You looked down at yourself, and announced, still deadpan.

"It's just-- I'm covered in blood, you see--"

That sent Kento over the edge again.

You remained content throughout the years of your marriage, for Nanami Kento to be viewed by others as boring and humourless. You found yourself jealously greedy of his rare laughter, anyway.

After marriage, you viewed it as the highest badge of honour to make him laugh like that while he was buried inside you.

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bitterrfruit · 1 year ago

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Simon forgets how strong he is

18+ MDNI - cw: bruising - ~700 words

just some Simon Riley NSFW brainrot ♥︎ - part 2-ish, and part 3-ish here!!

Simon forgets how to be gentle.

When he's at war, fighting and shooting and killing day and night, all he knows is hardness. Brutality. Ruthlessness. His hands and heart grow calloused and rough in his months away from you. Using his unfathomable strength to survive is what he grows used to, it becomes second nature.

But it's your softness he remembers, to keep himself sane. It's all he thinks about. Dreams of.

The way the flesh of your hips, your ass, your breasts, your belly, pillows so deliciously between his fingers when he squeezes his handful - so warm, so supple. The way your vanilla-balmed lips graze his scarred skin so tenderly, however undeserved your sweetness is.

And when he finally returns home, after months of missing, craving you - when you stand in the door, honey thighs bare by virtue of the black panties you wore just to torture him, soft tummy peeking out from under your crop-top - he just can't restrain himself.

You greet him with your sugary smile, stretching up on your toes to curl your loving arms around his neck - your gentle voice, music; "Si, ah! I'm so glad you're okay…"

The moment your velvet skin touches his, his shackles crumble. Like a beast starved, he clutches you. Mammoth arms curl around you, constricting, gripping you eagerly like you might be a dream; liable to turn to a memory, to smoke.

His avaricious embrace lifts your feet from the ground, though he doesn't mean to - he burrows his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, lets the curls of your hair smother him and fill his chest with the faint scent of your fruity shampoo. Fights every urge to take a bite, like you're a ripe nectarine.

Growls into your skin, through his jaw; "I fuckin' missed you, love. Christ, you have no idea how much I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby…" you coo into his ear, even your breathing is tender - he can't take it.

So he ferries you immediately to the sitting room, scoops you up like you weigh nothing, lets you coil your buttery thighs around his waist as he sits you on his lap on the sofa.

His wide hands take their greedy handfuls of your body - of your waist, of your hips, of your thighs, of your ass. Finally indulging the impulses he had dreamed about for so long - the very image he had fucked his fist to more times than he could count while parted from you.

With his teeth on your shoulder, tongue laving your warm skin; "So fuckin' soft," he grumbles deeply, and urges, "pretty thing. So soft. Fuck, I missed you."

His cock is hasty to grow boulder-solid under his trousers, and he chastises himself - but you answer with a cloying giggle, grinding your mound against its rigidity as if to torment him.

"Mm, you did miss me," you tease, little brat.

Then in an instant, all he can think about is the softness of your syrupy pussy, the gumminess of the inside of your cunt as its walls caress and milk his cock like it was built just to fit him.

You make him fucking ravenous, so voraciously eager to have you that he doesn't even notice his hands turn to vices around your flesh - fingers burrowing so deeply into the cheek of your ass that he might break through the skin.

"Ah!" You yelp, "Ow - Simon - you're hurting me-"

Your squeak of pain is enough to immediately shatter him - so he rapidly lifts you off of him, protecting you from his impulse. Stands you on your feet so that you're no longer victim to his inability to control himself.

"Shit, I'm sorry-" he grunts under his breath, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's-" Your brows curl in worry, turning to look at where he had clawed you - and he sees the purple bruises where his hand had wrenched the flesh of your ass, the red lines where his fingernails had nearly punctured you. "Oh," you breathe at the sight, "…wow."

Drowning in visceral shame, he can barely bring himself to touch you again. But your soft hand caresses his hair, running through the sandy tresses - you, somehow, the one to comfort him.

"It's okay, baby, I know you didn't mean to," you purr fondly, and he leans forward to shamefully press as soft a kiss as he can into the bruise he gave you. Fucking monster.

"I'm sorry," he croaks into your skin, hoping his guilt will reverse his barbarity. "I just missed you."

"I know," you croon, turning to plant a loving kiss into his hair. "It's okay."

You guide him to lean back, mounting his lap again, letting your pelvis grind against the erection you were quick to reawaken.

His hands barely ghosting over your skin, he restrains himself, touches you carefully.

You whisper, into his stubbled cheek; "I'll show you how to be gentle again."

#bet simon knows how to apologise to you #spoilers it involves his tongue #cod fic #cod smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x reader #call of duty smut

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symbiomancy · 12 days ago

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mirror —ghost

—summary: The summer heat has you slipping between sleep and reality. Something not-so corporeal helps you cool off.

—warnings: ghost x human, monsterfucking, piv sex, mirror sex (technically), creampie, dubcon/somnophilia.

—word count: 1,3k

—a/n: no thoughts just horny. also on AO3

The best thing about living alone, you’ve come to realize, is the privacy. You’re free to do whatever: take your time in the bathroom in the morning or whenever you want, spend an eternity soaking in the claw-footed tub this house came with, walk around your home in the skimpiest clothing imaginable (not only does it help to beat the summer heat, it also (technically) leaves you less laundry to do), splay out on your king-sized bed in a starfish position, limbs akimbo, drag the full-length mirror in your bedroom in front of your bed and stare at the way any dildos you own get swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

No point in wondering why the last owner was in such a rush to get rid of it; so much so that he accepted well below market price for a freshly renovated, fully-furnished house with a moderate backyard in a relatively safe neighborhood.

The longer this heatwave lasts, the skimpier your clothes get. There’s barely any fabric to cling to your constantly sweat-slick skin by this point, just a tiny skirt hiked so far up your bare skin touches the wooden chairs when you sit and a shirt that’s more spaghetti straps than torso. The huge, double-door fridge is a reprieve, cool air billowing out and caressing your heated skin. It almost feels like a genuine caress, like someone’s cool hands sliding down your body.

Seriously, you need to get out of the house and meet people instead of fantasizing about the cool touch of your fridge. But the outside is infinitely hotter than the inside.

You kick the bedsheet away from your body, grumbling at the lingering day heat. You’d stripped the sheet from the duvet the moment spring chill had plunged into summer heat and stuffed the latter into the closet until fall. Even then, you tend to wake up without the sheet in the morning, finding it crumbled on the floor. Yesterday was another sweltering day. It has left the air stuffy and the fans only push the warm, stale heat around without providing any relief. You unplug them in a fit of frustration and cringe at the feeling of moisture when you lay against your pillow again.

Sleep doesn’t completely evade you but you’re not fully asleep, either. You think so, at least. There are moments of brief blackouts, where you open your eyes and turn to look at the time only to find not even an hour has passed. Your eyelids feel heavy.

Then, there are the hands on your body. Caressing, petting, groping. They’ve been there for some time now, just touching, feeling. They’re not cold, just cool enough to feel pleasant against your heated skin and inject some relief into your sluggish thoughts of sun and heat. A sigh escapes your lips at the sensation. Fingertips trance the expanse of your skin, draw constellations between your moles and freckles. The other hand moves to rest on your breast. It kneads the soft flesh, gently pinches your nipple between its fingers, runs a thumb over it.

You inhale sharply, heart thrumming in your chest, pressing your thighs together. It does little to quell the desire for friction, or touch. The hand tracing its fingertips down your body reaches your hip, then skirts across your flesh to rest on the inside of your thigh. You blink languidly; the heat is stifling, your head feels thick.

Cool fingers dip between your legs, press against your clit like — like they’re what? Testing the waters. You stifle the half-baked moan in the back of your throat.

The hands leave you all at once and you croak out a sound that doesn’t even sound like you, desperate and needy. They’re back not even a moment later, though, heavy on your hips as if they’re trying to guide you. You reach for a pillow and prop it under yourself. It’s a nice dream, you don’t need it to end because it forces you into an uncomfortable position that drives home the realization that it’s a dream. Because then you’ll wake up, alone again.

Something thick and heavy rests on your pelvis. Maybe this makes you a bad sex partner in this brief dream but you don’t want to reach out and touch it, guide it. If it’s your dream, your partner should know the where and how. The cool hands planted firmly on your hips pull you forward just slightly and the weight from your pelvis disappears. It rests against your entrance, but doesn’t push forward just yet. One hand leaves you and the tip of its cock drags through your slick folds, bumps against your clit.

“Please,” you croak, staring at the ceiling. Your throat is dry.

The stranger’s cock angles itself against your entrance and pushes in carefully. You take a slow, deep breath in, try to relax around the pleasant intrusion. The hands — under your knees now, guiding your legs apart. A body presses against your thighs. Whoever it is, stops, pauses for a moment. You clench around the cock buried in your cunt. A cold, shuddering breath hits you. Goosebumps rise on your skin. The hands push your knees further apart until there’s an ache in your muscles, and then they depart, one finding a spot on your waist, the other your breast.

It moves, then. The cock nestled deep within you sharply pulls back and thrusts in again. You scramble for anchor, to grab onto something but all you come up with is sheet that tugs loose. Their pace is dizzying, thighs slapping against yours, cock plunging into your wet cunt. The sound is so wet and lewd and goddamned loud in the still silence of your home. You go to stifle the half-moan half-groan in your throat but— wait, it’s your house, your dream, who gives a fuck about the neighbors? The cock in your cunt pulls nearly all the way out and thrusts in again and hits that spot, so good, dragging against your slick walls and you swear you feel every groove and dip, every goddamn vein. Your moan slips out involuntarily, and whoever it is here with you, seems invigorated.

The hand on your breast leaves, a forearm rests around your thigh, pulling it up and — fuck, their cock drives in so incredibly deep you nearly choke on your own spit. You scramble upwards, resting your weight on your elbows to look at your partner —

There’s no one there. Your bedroom is empty. But there’s a hand on your torso, cool fingers digging into your flesh and a forearm supporting your thigh and the shape of someone’s shoulder against your Achilles’ tendon. There’s a cock plunging into your cunt and you hear someone’s labored breathing.

The full-length mirror skids across the laminated floor and stops in front of your bed. Something invisible is thrusting into your pussy, gaping back at you in the reflection. Your face burns — your whole body burns. You can’t look away from the debauchery staring back at you. Whoever — whatever — it is, thrusts harshly, cold hands pulling you against their body. Your thighs are wet and sticky, slamming against theirs, your hole gaping back at you, being abused by something you can’t see. It sends you hurtling over the edge.

You come around the phantom cock with something reminiscent of a shriek and a moan and terror and pleasure all combined. Your cunt clenches around the thing your muscles sore and sweat beading on your skin. The cock plunges into you again and again and again and you blink back the tears and the fear and the overwhelming pleasure. The fingers on your body dig into your flesh and the cock nestled in you buries deep, thighs pressing against your own, and spills. It’s so warm, so pleasant. The mirror skids closer, right until it touches the edge of the bed.

Your cunt is forced wide open. Stuffed. The pearlescent cum coats your walls, oozes out from inside you, dribbles onto your bedsheets. The cock in you stays there but the body moves.

A small fogged patch, like warm breath, appears on the mirror, and then, letters.

Hi :)

Oh. So that's why this place was so cheap.

banners by @/cafekitsune

#gh0st kink #ghost kink #ghost x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #spectrophilia #phasmophilia #monster kink #monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monsterfucker #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia #ghost fucker

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somnambuletta · 6 days ago

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simon loves it when you get your nails done. it’s a simple thing, really— a frivolous indulgence in pinks and sparkles, something that might not mean much to anyone else; but to simon, it’s everything. the moment you step through that door, the world slows just for him, and his gaze snaps to your hands, a hunger in his eyes that doesn’t belong in a man like him. it’s the gleam in your nails that pulls him in, drawing him closer than anything else ever could. (moth to a flame, with the exception being, a flamingo inferno)

he’s kicked back in his chair, uncouth danger, and akimbo angles, looking like a man who’d crush you in his arms without a second thought. his build, thick and powerful, is like steel; unbending. but you? you walk in with the sweet glitter of freshly done nails, and in an instant, the walls around him crumble.

he rises from his chair—abruptly, like he can’t stay seated another second—and your smile catches in his chest. his large hands, usually so firm, so purposeful, tremble just a little when they reach for you. he holds your hand like it’s something sacred.

"let me see 'em," he grumbles, brogue deep and gravelly, more of a plea than a command. he wants to drink you in, to trace every inch of those nails, because he knows each tiny detail was chosen by you. he doesn’t say it, but he adores how they glint with the tiniest hint of rebellion— your rebellion, soft yet fierce, glittering beneath the surface. reminds him of all the times you'd sassed him, sweet-tone bent with a laughable stamp of attitude.

your nails are a galaxy of pink, gemstones catching the light, each shimmer a reason for him to love you more. but it’s that one, that one sweet "s" on your ring finger—pink and delicate, like it’s been kissed by the very breath of spring— that makes him lose his mind. he studies it like it's the most precious thing in the world, his brows furrowed, jaw tight, a low rumble rising in his chest as he presses a kiss to it, reverent.

"..that’s mine," he mutters under his breath, as though it’s the most sacred truth he’s ever spoken. there’s a possessiveness there, sure, but it’s tender, wrapped in a softness you never expected from a man like him. the world could burn around you both, but in this moment, simon riley only has eyes for the pink "s" that reminds him you’re his. completely, utterly his.

he brushes a thumb over your ring finger, over the little "s" that makes his heart beat faster, and his voice drops lower—softer now, filled with something that feels almost like reverence.

"you’re mine, yeah? no one else’s. just mine."

yeah. yeah, you're his.

#creative writing #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #amwriting #writing community #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare #original writing #my writing #cod modern warfare #call of duty

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killerplink · 20 days ago

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HAZE

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Plot: Slow hands, sleepy kisses, and the kind of sex that feels more like staying in bed wrapped in each other than anything else.

Words: 4,5k

CW: established relationship, 18+, smut, lazy sex, praise, creampie, cockwarming

You wake up to warmth—solid, heavy warmth pressed all along your back, Jason's big body curled around yours, his arm slung lazily over your waist. His breath is hot against the nape of your neck, slow and steady as he sleeps.

His boxers are low on his hips, and the only thing on you is his old, soft t-shirt, barely covering the curve of your ass. That's all he managed to get on you last night before you face planted into bed after he fucked you stupid. And right now, the hem's bunched up so high, it's doing fuck all to hide anything.

You stretch, a soft sigh slipping from your lips, only to freeze when you feel it—his dick, hard and hot, pressed snug against your bare ass. A slow, lazy pulse of heat rolls through you, your body already knowing exactly what it wants, aching for him again, like you always do.

The heat of him radiates through the thin fabric of his boxers, and it makes your whole body pulse with a fresh wave of need, because your cunt is already sensitive from last night, and now you're greedy for more.

Jason grumbles behind you, shifting closer, arm flexing as he pulls you in tighter. His nose nuzzles into your soft hair, a deep, sleepy sigh leaving him, and that big, warm palm of his sprawls across your stomach, fingers splaying wide over soft skin, possessive even in his sleep.

"Mmm," you hum, voice sweet and soft as you press back against him, rolling your hips just enough to drag your bare ass against his cock. The friction is slow, teasing, and you feel him twitch against you, feel him wake up properly. "Jay."

A low groan vibrates against your skin, lips brushing over your neck. "Baby," he grunts, voice wrecked, the kind of raspy that makes you throb between your thighs. "S'early."

But you don't stop. You rock your hips again, grinding against him slow and dirty, letting the curve of your ass drag along the length of him through his boxers, every roll of your hips making you slicker, your cunt clenching on nothing.

Jason grunts, fingers digging into your waist, his palm sliding down until his fingertips brush the top of your thigh. "Fuck, baby—"

"Please," you whisper, turning just enough to look at him over your shoulder, lips parted, eyes hazy and heavy with sleep and lust. "Need you."

He exhales a deep, shuddering breath, his forehead pressing to the back of your head, and you can feel his resolve crumbling. You feel the way his body melts into yours, craving you right back, feel the shudder that rolls through him, feel the exact second he gives in.

"Jesus," he mutters, voice warm and fond, tinged with helpless, lovesick hunger, that fucked-out affection he only ever has for you.

His hand drifts lower, fingers curling over your bare thigh, and then his fingertips slide up between your legs, brushing the soft, puffy lips of your cunt. You're soaked, messy with fresh arousal, and you feel him smirk against your neck as he finds you already dripping.

"Shit, doll," he groans, dick twitching against your ass as his fingers stroke up and down your slit, spreading your wetness. His boxers are damp where you're grinding against him, smearing your slick all over the front, but neither of you care. "You're so wet already."

You whimper, rocking against his fingers, needy, aching, every slick glide making you shudder. "Want you," you breathe, voice soft and sweet, already a little wrecked from just the teasing.

Jason doesn't make you wait, but he sure as hell drags it out just to see you squirm. He shifts behind you, tugging his boxers down just enough to free his cock, and the heavy weight of it settles right between your thighs, hot and thick, sliding through the mess between your legs. His tip catches against your swollen clit with every slow grind, smearing precum along your folds until you're soaked from both of you, skin flushed, body shivering under his touch.

You press back into him, ass snug against his hips, and the pressure makes his cock slide deeper between your slick folds, grinding against your clit at the perfect angle. You moan, soft and desperate, the sound making Jason groan right into your hair, his breath hot and ragged against the side of your neck.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, rolling his hips again, just enough to tease, to feel you squirm.

Your nipples pebble under his t-shirt, the thin fabric rubbing over them as your back arches slightly, heat rolling up your spine.

"Jay—" you whine, hips wriggling, desperate for more, and that's all it takes for him to lose the last bit of control he had.

"Shhh," he murmurs, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your neck, teeth scraping lightly before his tongue soothes over the spot. "I've got you, pretty girl."

He slides a hand down, fingers curling under your thigh to angle you just right, and then he's guiding the thick, blunt head of his cock to your entrance. He pushes in slow, just the tip, stretching you with that sweet, obscene little pop that makes your breath catch and your pussy flutter around him.

"Jesus Christ," Jason grits out, forehead resting against the back of your head, breath hot and heavy against your skin. "So fuckin' tight, baby."

You whimper again, fingers clutching the sheets, your whole body trembling as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, your pussy clinging to him, sucking him in, soft and slick and perfect. Every stretch burns sweet before melting into aching pleasure, your body made to take him, made to be filled like this.

"Jay," you moan, breath hitching when he shifts just right, the swollen head of his cock catching that sweet spot inside you on the slow drag out. "Fuck—"

"I know, baby," he groans, his voice low and rough, thick with sleep and lust. His arm tightens around your waist, holding you snug against his chest, keeping you right where he wants you. "I know."

Then he starts moving, slow and deep, every inch dragging through your slick heat, lazy and wet, filling you all the way up before pulling back, only to press right back in, sweet and torturous.

You melt into him, body boneless and soft, every muscle slack and pliant under his touch. The deep drag of his dick steals the air from your lungs, pleasure rolling through you in thick, syrupy waves that make you shudder against his chest.

"Oh my God," you whimper, voice wrecked already, your cunt fluttering around him every time he sinks back in. "Feels so good—"

He grunts against your shoulder, his mouth finding your skin, teeth scraping lightly before his tongue soothes the sting. His hips roll into you again, that same slow, deep rhythm, every stroke a tease, every inch dragging slick and hot inside you. His breath comes heavier, rough and uneven, like you've already got him chasing that edge even though you both know he's got the stamina to drag this out until you're begging.

"Fuck, baby," he murmurs, his voice rasping right into your ear. "You're squeezin' me so tight. Sweet little pussy, milkin' my dick already."

"Can't help it," you whine, face pressing into the pillow, your hips rolling back to meet him, greedy for more. "You're so big—fuck, Jay—"

Jason groans, deep and low, the sound vibrating through your skin, and his hand grips your thigh tight enough to leave finger-shaped dents in your soft flesh. He pulls your leg up slightly, opening you wider for him, letting him sink even deeper, until you swear you can feel him in your belly.

"That's my girl," he praises, his mouth dragging over your shoulder, teeth catching the thin fabric of his own t-shirt before he nudges it down, exposing more skin for him to taste. "Always take me so good, baby. Tight little pussy made for me, huh?"

You whimper, nodding into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut when he bites just under your ear, sharp enough to make you gasp. Your pussy clamps down around him, hot and greedy, and Jason curses under his breath, hips snapping just a little rougher for a few thrusts, his dick grinding deep inside you, hitting that sweet spot again and again until your legs tremble from the overstimulation.

"You love it," he murmurs, his free hand sliding beneath you and up under your shirt, rough fingers finding your breast, squeezing just enough to make you squirm. "Love wakin' up to my dick in this perfect little pussy."

"Yes," you gasp, thighs quivering, your slick soaking both of you, dripping down your inner thighs and onto the sheets. "Love it so much—"

Jason groans, teeth scraping over the sensitive spot just below your ear, his hand kneading your breast roughly, his thumb swiping over your nipple until it's tight and aching under his touch. Every thrust is slow and deep, no rush, just the filthy, decadent drag of his cock working you open, fucking you loose and messy until you're soaked and squirming.

"Fuck, baby, feel that?" he rasps, his hand sliding up to your hip, fingers digging in for leverage as he rolls his hips deeper, his cock grinding against your cervix, making you keen into the pillow. "Feel how deep I am? That's all you, baby—takin' me so fuckin' deep, stretchin' so good around me."

"God—Jay," you sob, every nerve lit up, body shaking, pleasure crackling just under your skin like a live wire. "S-so deep—feels so good, baby—"

He hums against your neck, all smug satisfaction, licking the sweat from your skin like he can't get enough of you. "Always feel so fuckin' good, doll," he mutters, lips dragging lower, teeth scraping the delicate skin over your shoulder blade. "Tight little pussy, so wet for me. So fuckin' perfect."

You whimper again, louder this time, your body arching into his touch like you can't get close enough. Every slow, deep thrust drags over every sensitive spot inside you, his cock stretching you wide, so thick and hot you swear you can feel every vein, every ridge, every pulse throbbing right against your walls.

Jason grunts, voice low and wrecked, and he's still so fucking deep, his cock grinding against your cervix with every roll of his hips, his thick thigh snug between yours, keeping you wide open for him.

"Could fuck you like this all day, baby," he mutters, licking a hot stripe up the side of your neck. "Just keep you here, all soft and wet and messy for me, lettin' me stretch this perfect little pussy over and over—"

"Please," you gasp, fingers curling into the sheets, your body trembling with need. "Please, Jay—"

He hums, dragging his teeth over your shoulder again, fingers tightening on your hip. "Please what, baby?" he teases, his hips slowing to a torturous grind, dragging out every slick inch until you're a whining mess in his arms.

"More," you beg, voice cracking, and Jason groans like you just said the filthiest thing in the world.

"That's my girl," he praises, rolling his hips harder, fucking you slow and deep until you're trembling in his arms, every thrust sending messy little squelches into the air, his cock slick with your wetness. "Always so greedy for me, baby."

Your pussy clamps down around him, hot and tight, and Jason's breath shudders against your neck, his teeth scraping your skin again before he soothes the bite with his tongue. "That's it," he murmurs, voice low and filthy. "Squeeze me just like that, baby. Let me feel how bad you want it."

You moan, your body trembling in his arms, and he just keeps fucking you slow and deep, dragging it out until you're soaked and shaking, teetering right on the edge.

"Fuck, Jay," you moan, your whole body trembling in his grip, thighs quaking, toes curling into the sheets. "Gonna cum—"

"Yeah?" His voice comes rough, breathless, cracking with hunger. "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it. Want you to soak me, pretty girl, c'mon."

The way he says it, low and filthy right into your ear, paired with that relentless drag of his cock deep inside you, has you snapping. Your body locks up, spine bowing, and then you break, pussy clenching tight around his thick cock, the first rush of your orgasm slamming into you so hard it steals the air from your lungs.

Your cunt pulses, clamping down hard, hot and greedy, trying to milk every inch of him, slick gushing out around him in messy spurts, soaking his dick, his thighs, the sheets below. You gasp into the pillow, body shuddering uncontrollably, fingers scrambling for purchase in the sheets as pleasure overwhelms you, rolling through your body in thick, wet waves that leave you shaking and wrecked.

"Fuck, that's it," Jason groans, voice wrecked, his fingers digging into your thigh, bruising-tight as he feels your cunt ripple and squeeze around him, that perfect pussy gripping him like a vice. "Jesus, baby—fuckin' soak me, just like that."

But he doesn't stop, doesn't slow down, doesn't give you a second to breathe. He just keeps fucking you through it, cock dragging through your clenching, spasming heat, spreading your wetness all over his length, his thighs, the curve of your ass where his hips slam into you over and over.

"Messy little thing," he rasps, his voice dark and low, a filthy kind of pride threaded through every word. "So fuckin' wet. Drippin' all over me. Look at you, baby, makin' a goddamn mess of my dick."

You can't even answer, too wrecked to do anything but sob his name, legs trembling, cunt still pulsing helplessly around him with aftershocks that won't stop, every thick, deep thrust dragging you right back to the edge.

Jason groans again, rolling his hips harder, fucking you faster, deeper, his cock grinding right up against your cervix, sweet pain mixing with the pleasure until you're shaking so hard you almost crawl away, but he won't let you. His arm bands tighter around your waist, pinning you back against his chest, locking you in place while he fucks you just the way he wants.

"Nowhere to run, baby," he grits out, voice half-growl, half-groan. "This pussy's mine, understand?"

"Y-yes," you gasp, the only word you can manage.

Your mind melts under the pace he sets—hard and deep, hips slamming against your ass, the sound of skin slapping loud and filthy in the quiet room, the bed frame creaking under the force of it.

"Good girl," Jason breathes. "Always my good girl, lettin' me stretch this pretty pussy, lettin' me use you however I want—"

"Please," you whimper, breath coming in ragged, desperate pants. "More, Jay—need more—"

"Greedy little thing," he growls, but his hips snap faster, rougher, dick pounding into you hard enough to make the bed rock beneath you.

His balls slap against you every time he bottoms out, the perfect rhythm leaving you soaked and shaking, pleasure coiling so tight in your belly it hurts. You're dripping down onto the sheets, slick pooling beneath you, his cock so wet and messy every thrust sounds obscene, every inch of him glistening with your arousal. His fingers slide back down your stomach, slicked in your own wetness as they find your clit, rubbing it in tight, messy circles, just how you like.

"C'mon, baby," he pants, his mouth dragging over your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. "Cum again for me—wanna feel this pretty pussy squeeze me one more time before I fill you up."

You sob his name, tears stinging your eyes, the overstimulation toeing the line between pleasure and pain, every thrust, every rub, every filthy word dragging you closer, closer, until—

It crashes over you again, sudden and sharp, ripping through every nerve like a live wire. Your whole body locks up in his arms, legs trembling, fingers curling into the sheets as your pussy clenches hard around his cock. The squeeze is desperate, pulsing, like you're trying to keep him buried deep even as the pleasure wrings you out.

Another flood of slick gushes out, drenching him, your thighs, the sheets—soaking everything beneath you, the wet sound of it obscene in the thick, sweat-slicked heat between you. He groans low, the sound rough and strained, hips flexing just enough to make it worse, to drag you through the aftershocks, making sure you feel every inch of him throbbing inside you.

You cry out, voice wrecked and broken, body shaking so hard it's almost too much. But Jason doesn't stop, fucking you through it, cock grinding deep into your clenching heat, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of you.

"That's it, baby," he grits out, voice strained, every muscle in his body going taut. "Fuck, you're so tight—so fuckin' perfect, baby—"

He's close, you can feel it, his hips stuttering, cock swelling, every thrust rougher, faster, sloppier. "Gonna fill you up," he growls, "fuck this sweet little pussy full of my cum, baby—take it, baby, take it all—"

"Please," you beg, voice broken, your body shaking. "Want it so bad—"

Jason snaps, burying himself deep, his grip tightening like he's holding on for dear life. His dick throbs, thick and aching, and then he spills—hot, heavy, messy. The first pulse hits deep, a flood of warmth spilling into you, and then another, and another, his hips jerking with every wave of pleasure that wracks through him.

He groans loud and filthy into your ear, the sound raw, almost desperate, breath ragged as he loses himself in it. His whole body shakes against you, muscles tense, fingers digging in, like he can't get close enough. He fills you to the brim, so full you swear you feel it dripping out around him already, hot and slick between your thighs, proof of just how wrecked he is for you.

But he doesn't stop, just keeps fucking you slow and deep, grinding his cock into you, fucking his cum deeper, making sure not a drop goes to waste. Every thrust pushes more of it out, slick and sticky, painting your thighs, dripping down to the sheets, making a filthy, wet mess between your legs.

"Look at that," Jason mutters, voice thick with satisfaction, fingers sliding down to spread your swollen lips apart, feeling his cum leak out around his dick. "So fuckin' full, baby. Perfect little pussy, just soakin' me in all this cum."

You whimper, body shuddering again, every nerve lit up, sensitive and raw, still clenching around him in weak little aftershocks, like your pussy can't bear to let him go. Jason groans low and rough, his cock giving one last lazy throb inside you, twitching where he's still buried deep.

"Fuck, doll," he mutters, voice wrecked, his forehead pressing to the back of your head. "Made such a mess of this pretty pussy. So full, baby—feel that? My cum drippin' out of you, fuckin' perfect."

His fingers are still between your legs, spreading your swollen folds wider, his thumb lazily rubbing through the slick mess between your thighs, spreading cum and arousal all over your puffy clit. You whine, hips twitching, too sensitive but still needy, your cunt fluttering weakly around him.

"Still want more?" he teases, voice low and syrupy. "Greedy little thing—can't get enough of me, huh?"

You can't even answer, too fucked-out and trembling, body limp in his arms, legs spread open for him, skin flushed and dewy with sweat. Jason chuckles softly, pressing a messy kiss to your shoulder, his cock still buried deep, still twitching now and then inside you.

"That's my girl," he murmurs. "Always take me so good, baby—every inch, every drop, all mine."

He wraps his arm tighter around your waist, pulling you closer, keeping himself plugged deep in your soaked, overstimulated pussy like he doesn't want to leave your heat for a second. And honestly? You don't want him to either.

You sigh, melting into his warmth, feeling full, sated, perfect—still stretched, still leaking, still so filthy and used in the best fucking way.

"Morning sex is the best sex," you mumble sleepily, voice soft and dreamy, thick with satisfaction.

Jason chuckles against your skin, the sound low and warm, vibrating against your shoulder before he presses a lazy, open-mouthed kiss there. "Hell yeah it is," he mutters, his lips curling into a grin against your sweat-damp skin.

You whimper softly, barely awake, shifting against him, and Jason just grins, gathering more slick with his fingers, smearing it back against your clit, slow and teasing. Your hips twitch weakly, too sensitive to handle much more, but you don't stop him either.

"Can't help myself," he murmurs, nuzzling into your hair. "You're too fuckin' sweet like this, baby. All soft and wrecked, still squeezin' me like you don't wanna let me go."

His fingers work you gently at first, slow little circles, spreading the mess he left inside you, slicking you up until every glide over your clit is a wet, sinful drag that makes you shudder. You whine his name, voice thin and breathless—"Jay... too much..."—but he just hums, pressing his lips against the back of your neck, cock still buried deep, thick and hot, twitching inside you every time you clench around him.

"Gimme one more, baby," he coaxes, voice rough, lazy with satisfaction. "You feel so fuckin' good. Just one, yeah?"

You nod, barely, gasping as his fingers press a little firmer, rubbing tight, messy circles over your swollen clit, every movement deliberate, made worse by the way his cum seeps out around his cock, hot and slick, making everything so much wetter.

"Good girl."

He praises you low and warm, his free hand flexing on your hip, keeping you snug against him while he works you over, dragging out every last drop of pleasure until you're trembling, little shivers wracking through your body. His fingers move faster, tighter, until your thighs start to shake, until your breath catches, until the pressure coils up again, unbearable, the pleasure so sharp and sticky-sweet it makes your stomach clench.

And then it snaps.

Your whole body jerks against him, a helpless little cry spilling from your lips as your cunt spasms around his cock, pulsing, milking him even though he's already emptied himself inside you. He groans, low and guttural, holding you through it, whispering filthy little praises into your ear as your release spills out, messy and warm, mixing with his own, dripping down between your thighs in thick, slick trails.

"Fuck, that's it," he breathes, still lazily circling your clit, dragging out every last aftershock, making sure you feel it all. "Knew you had one more in you, baby. So fuckin' perfect for me."

His dick gives one last lazy throb inside you, still half-hard, still buried deep, like he can't stand the thought of pulling out just yet.

His arm tightens around your waist, holding you close, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, "You're my perfect girl, you know that? My sweet, filthy little thing. Love you so much, baby."

You hum softly, still drunk on him, your voice sleepy and sweet. "Love you too, Jay," you mumble, your words melting into a soft sigh, your body sinking fully into his. "Love being yours."

Jason chuckles low, raspy and warm, his lips brushing against your temple. "That's my girl," he murmurs, voice thick with affection and that ever-present hunger for you.

The warmth of him, the stretch of his cock still snug inside you, the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back—it all wraps around you like a cocoon, leaving you floaty and soft and a little fucked stupid.

Your pussy still flutters every now and then, clenching around the thick weight of him, like your body just isn't ready to let go yet, and Jason's hand rubs slow circles on your hip, soothing, keeping you grounded in that warmth.

You drift off like that, both of you still tangled together, still messy and connected, his dick held warm and tight inside your spent pussy. It's filthy and intimate and so perfectly you and Jason that it makes your heart swell even as sleep pulls you under.

He stays awake just a little longer, his chest pressed flush to your back, his arm snug around your waist like if he lets go, you might slip right through his fingers. His dick twitches inside you, still sensitive, still messy with both of you, every slow pulse dragging against the soft, swollen grip of your pussy.

He bites his lip to hold back a groan, hips aching to move, to chase just a little more friction, but he won't. Not when you're so soft and sleepy, all warm and safe in his arms, your breath coming in soft, even little sighs.

There's something about it—being buried inside you after he's already fucked you stupid, feeling your pussy still clenching down on him, even in sleep—that makes his heart thud harder than it has any right to.

You feel so damn good wrapped around him, the slick warmth of you holding him in like you were made for it, and Jason swears it's the best thing he's ever felt. Just keeping you close, keeping you full, his cock still heavy inside the perfect heat of you, knowing that even in sleep, your body is his.

He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in like it's the only air he needs. His hand drifts, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, down to your thigh, like he can't stop touching you even now.

And it's filthy, yeah, the mess between your thighs, the way his cum still leaks out around where you're stretched full of him but it's also everything to him. Because you let him have you like this, trust him like this, love him like this. His sweet, filthy, perfect girl.

Jason's eyes slip shut, a slow smile curving his lips as he holds you just a little tighter, dick twitching one last time before he lets himself drift off too, perfectly content to stay buried inside you until morning pulls you both back to the surface.

By the time you wake up again, sunlight is spilling brighter through the window, and his lips are already pressing soft kisses to your shoulder.

His voice is soft, a little gruff from sleep. "Hey, baby," he murmurs, his fingers brushing lazy lines over your belly. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? Then I'll make you breakfast."

You blink sleepily, your body still loose and boneless, still sensitive and tender between your thighs. You shift slightly, feeling the slow, slick slide of his cock finally slipping free from your pussy, leaving you empty and leaking all over again. You make a soft, needy noise at the loss, and Jason soothes you with another kiss, his hand cupping your thigh.

"Don't pout, pretty girl. I'll fill you back up after breakfast if you want."

You giggle softly, cheeks warm, already loving how this Saturday is shaping up. "I love you, baby," you mumble, voice thick with sleep and sappiness.

Jason smiles, helping you sit up, his eyes warm and soft even as they drop to the mess between your thighs, his cum still sticky on your skin. "Love you too, doll. Now let's get my girl cleaned up before I end up fuckin' you right back into the mattress."

You stretch, leaning in to press a sleepy kiss to his jaw, and then you let him scoop you up, already thinking about round two once breakfast is over.

God, that sounds just perfect.

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crimsonvictory · 24 days ago

Text

Just thinkin’ of Simon being a big meanie. :(

THIS IS FILTHY GOD

—

Teases you all day - little brushes of his fingers across the small of your back, the back of your neck. Loves holding you in place as you walk alongside him, thick fingers wrapped around the top of your spine - an impromptu leash. Never lets you out of his sight. Can’t let a pretty thing like you get away.

Pulls you in his lap just so he can get a look’atcha. You’re just in one of his tees and a pair of panties. His fuckin’ dream. Dark eyes glittering with mischief as he adjusts his hips. He doesn’t even hold in the huff of a laugh when the tent in his pants bumps against your clothed pussy. :(

“Jus’ admirin’,” he sighs, eyes lazily gliding down your form.

Has a tight grip on the fat of your hip, pads of his fingers slowly brushing your exposed skin. Swirls absentminded patterns as he focuses past your shoulder on the movie quietly playing in the background. Squeeeezes when a pretty pout forms on your face and a soft whine leaves your lips.

A soft ‘tut’ falls from his lips, grin pulling one side up that shows his sharp teeth. Acts like he has all the time in the world, that the movie is more interesting than you sittin’ in his lap. :(

You try your best to stay still. Huffing softly after waiting so patiently for him to notice you. You cross your arms over your chest, puffing out your perky tits to try and get his attention. Wetness pools in your underwear, causing the fabric to stick to your folds. Any touch of his has your pussy weeping, aching to be filled by his fingers or his cock.

He’s really mean today, brushing you off as he sinks further into the couch, the warm weight of your body relaxing him even further. You want to cry in frustration, his hands barely itching the burning scratch of pleasure rippling under your skin.

“Si,” you pout, fluttering your eyelashes at him - begging for him to move goddamnit.

His eyes flicker over to your own, dark irises nearly swallowed up by his pupils. You can almost see your reflection in them. How pretty you look, sittin’ all dolled up in his lap and he’s not even payin’ attention to you. :(

Simon doesn’t answer you, just watches. Loves watching you squirm in his lap under the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re nearly trembling with want, pouty lips all bitten red and he’s barely touched you.

“Please,” you whisper, reaching a delicate hand out to rest over the one that’s circling your hip.

His resolve almost crumbles. Almost. Little bird beggin’ so nicely. But you catch it, the wicked glimmer in his eyes as he decides to keep you waiting just a bit longer. His fingers move slowly, brushing upward and under your thin shirt. They rest just under the swell of your breast, dry pads of his fingers lightly touching the skin there.

A hot flush burns down your neck, turning your skin a pretty pink. A soft sound building in the back of your throat. You don’t dare move - afraid he’ll go back to ignoring you again. Your breath stutters to a halt, wide eyes watching his every move. Simon’s fingers slowly glide upwards, brushing against your already peaked nipple. Goosebumps appear on your skin, body reacting to his soft touches.

He pinches your bud with his thick fingers, a sharp, sudden pleasure pooling down into your stomach. His eyes are on you now, predatory as he rolls the little bud around, watching as your eyelids flutter and the breath you were holding leaves your lips. He does this for a while, releasing his hold and watching you squirm before doin’ it all over again. The denim of his jeans rubs perfectly against your folds, pressing into you every time you squirm. :(

“Sit still,” he grumbles, placing his other hand on your hip to hold you in place.

A pathetic whine leaves your lips, tears pricking at your eyes. Your little nose turns red, snifflin’ away the inevitable run that threatens to fall as you get all worked up. Poor little thing - pussy puffy and throbbin’ - beggin’ for just a little relief. Simon grins when the first tear falls, cooing softly as you come undone in his lap.

Now he’ll touch ‘ya. Just has to break you in a little. You learn how to sit still, conditioned to sit all pretty until he’s ready. His large hand slides down the slope of your torso, slipping into the waistband of your panties.

“Fuckin’ drippin’,” he hums, the approval evident in his deep voice.

Simon takes his thumb and brushes it over your little pearl, laughing softly when you arch into his touch.

“Needy little thing,” he nearly mocks, pressing slow circles into the bundle of nerves.

Fire licks down your spine, the touch of him fueling your want even more. Arousal gushes out of your neglected hole, dripping down your thighs. He alternates between swirling his thumb and pulling away suddenly, loving the way you arch and cry when he abruptly neglects your abused clit.

Mean. He’s so mean.

Your lip quivers as you hold onto his broad bicep, grounding yourself as the pleasure starts to pull you away. Your hips stutter in his lap, legs shaking as your first orgasm burns hot. A moan chokes its way out of your lungs, eyes fluttering shut as you writhe against his touch.

“Barely touched ‘ya and you’re comin,” he gruffs out, fingers not letting up on your sensitive bud.

You whine, trying to push his hand away but he doesn’t let up, keeps polishing that little pearl between your thick thighs. His index and middle fingers reach out to pull your soaked panties to the side, lookin’ at your cunt.

“Look,” he coos. “She’s cryin.”

He pats your pussy then, three thick fingers smackin’ your clit. Dark eyes watching as your arousal drips down your thighs and pools on his jeans. :(

“Makin’ a mess,” he scolds, sliding his fingers down and tracing them through your slippery folds.

“Simon!” you cry, pretty little face puffy with tears.

His thick fingers dip down into your hole, arousal making them slip right in. A soft moan rumbles out of him, and you feel his cock twitch against the backside of your thigh.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he coos again, lust softening the mean streak in him just a bit.

He almost forgets just how mean he was being, thrusting his fingers up into you, tight walls clenchin’ around them. He gives you a little bit of leeway, pumpin’ you full while he watches. You writhe on his fingers, especially when they curl against that spongey spot that has you seein’ stars.

“F-Fuck,” you cry out, voice wobbling with how tight your throat is.

You feel another familiar burn in your stomach, chasin’ to fuel the fire and set you over the edge. Just when you’re about to come, Simon pulls his fingers out. You burn hot with rage, sobbing out in frustration as you’re left clenchin’ around nothin’.

“We got all night, sweetheart. Why ‘ya rushin’?” he mocks, accent thick with lust.

You sob then, truly sob as somethin’ in you breaks. You just want to come. You’ve been such a good girl and he’s bein’ mean to his little bird.

“You’re bein’ mean,” you sob, exasperation leeching into your tone.

The pooling of your tears have your cheeks shiny, illuminating the blush spread across your skin. Simon loves it. Doesn’t think he’s ever seen anythin’ prettier.

“Aw, lovie,” he sighs. “Feelin’ neglected are ‘ya?”

You nod, trembling when his hand squeezes your hip, thumb brushing over your clit. He tuts softly, thick fingers slowly pushing back in, watching them slowly disappear. You moan in relief, clenching around his fingers again.

“There we go,” he murmurs, watchin’ his pretty girl bounce in his lap.

It lasts a moment or two before he’s pullin’ his fingers out again. A wail climbs out of your chest, tears pourin’ freely down your face as you lose that burning pleasure yet again. You don’t even notice him moving, lifting you up and layin’ you down on the couch before spreadin’ your legs.

His thighs push your own open, stretchin’ your hips wide as he pulls your panties to the side and gives your pussy another slap. You squeal, scramblin’ to reach out and grab his broad shoulders. Simon’s pulled himself out of his jeans, thick cock bobbing up against his soft belly. You nearly drool at the thought of havin’ him inside you.

“Please,” you whine again, nose stuffy from cryin’.

Simon’s dark eyes glint with that meanness again, smirkin’ as he takes the base of his cock in his grip and guides the velvety tip through your puffy folds. The smackin’ sound of your juices is filthy, allowing easy passes of his cock. The head bumps against your clit, causin’ your toes to curl.

“Fuck,” he groans, eyes glued to where the two of you meet. “Look’atcha.”

His pretty girl is all doe eyed, dumb as fuck from the pleasure. You’ve got drool in the corner of your mouth, looking up at him like he set the sun. A laugh huffs out of his broad chest at the sight of you. Gorgeous. :(

Simon loves his pretty girl. Loves bein’ mean and makin’ you stupid with his cock. He slides the tip down, groaning as it catches against your puffy hole. You swallow him up, pullin’ him in and clenchin’ around his length.

“Goddamn.” he grits out, one hand clenchin’ your hip like a lifeline.

The other rests on your throat - a placeholder. His hips snap forward, nestling deep inside your cervix. You’re cryin’ again, chest heavin’ with the pleasure that sets your nerves alight. The sight of you has his cock twitchin’ - nearly bustin’ and fillin’ you full of his come.

Simon thrusts in and out slowly, milkin’ you for all that you have. Your thighs stretch in a delicious burn, wrapped around his own as he keeps you close. His large frame cradles you, keeps you formed where he wants you to be, as close as possible as he whispers sweetness in your ear.

You’ve got him now, got him nice and pliant and sweet talkin’. Your hands rest on his face, cooin’ and moanin’ against his plush lips. He grinds against your hips, tip of him bullyin’ your cervix. :(

“So fuckin’ tight.” he groans. “So perfect f’me,”

Words tumble out of his mouth, so pussy drunk he doesn’t even know what he’s sayin’. All he cares about is the warmth of your womb, keepin’ him close to his doll baby.

“Simon,” you gasp. “I’m gonna come.”

He groans against your skin, neck pressed into the softness of your neck.

“Come f’me Angel,” he murmurs, biting down at the junction of your shoulder.

You do. How can you not? The perfect mix of pain and pleasure ripplin’ down your body as you arch against him. Simon holds you close, pumpin’ his pretty baby full as you come down from your high. You gasp at the fullness, whimpering as he nestles closer. Not leavin’ anytime soon.

#simon riley #cod simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #crimsonwrites #simon riley smut #crimsondrabbles

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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

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“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”

— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)

a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom

GOJO SATORU:

two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.

honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.

you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.

of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.

so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.

you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.

on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.

however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”

“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”

he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“

the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.

he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”

“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“

your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."

a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.

there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”

the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.

the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.

so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.

you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”

“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”

your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”

“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”

GETO SUGURU:

your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.

in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.

the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.

if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.

so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.

“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.

you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”

“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”

you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”

“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.

she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”

geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.

your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.

she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”

the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”

you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”

your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”

a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.

your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”

then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”

your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”

it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.

a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”

they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.

geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”

“yeah, papa is right!”

“yes mama, please!”

you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”

the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.

you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.

NANAMI KENTO:

you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.

you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.

it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.

you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.

“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”

the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.

today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.

your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.

you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’

so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.

you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.

“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”

“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”

“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”

your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.

on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”

nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“

and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.

she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.

having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.

the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.

you giggle, “that was funny.”

“really?!” your daughter beams.

nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“

your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.

your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.

meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”

his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“

“yay!!”

ladies: 1

kento: 0

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.

however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.

for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.

not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.

it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.

you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.

even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.

he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”

“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.

he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”

you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“

“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“

“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”

megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.

the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”

the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”

“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.

on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”

you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.

you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.

the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”

your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”

you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.

“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.

“dad, I want ice cream.”

“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.

unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”

“god damn it, listen here you—“

“divine dogs.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.

I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.

it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.

so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.

a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.

for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”

you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”

he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“

“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.

“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.

“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”

sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“

your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”

you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.

before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.

you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”

“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”

sukuna grunts, “sure.”

“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.

or at least, that’s what he thought.

your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.

and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.

you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”

he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”

“aww, you’re jealous!”

“no, I am not—“

“hands off, old man!”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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strawberrydolly333 · 9 months ago

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POV: rafe lets his girl do a bump

18+ only, drug usage, mean!rafe, heavy making out

"rafey cmon! just once please??" you whined, latching onto your boyfriend's arm as he was neatly lining up the white substance into thin lines with his black american express card.

"i dunno kid. you seem pretty busy with your vodka cranberry drink" he grumbled as he eyed the drink in your hand that you were spilling all over the carpet. "kid. you're making a mess knock it off" he said sternly, yanking your arm off as he leaned down towards the glass table and snorted up a line with a rolled up hundred dollar bill.

you pouted, clearly annoyed that he wasn't letting you do a bump. you sat your drink down on the table, slumping into the couch with your arms crossed. "don't like you anymore..." you muttered under your breath.

rafe gave you a look before grabbing onto your face harshly and squeezing your cheeks together "what was that?" he asked, eyes narrowing as he was not in the mood to put up with your shit tonight. "you don't like me? all because you're not getting a bump?" he scoffed, amused by your attitude.

"c'mere" he said grabbing you by the wrist and making you sit on his lap. "you wanna be a coke whore? you wanna get mad at me and say that 'you don't like me' and shit?" he mocked as he saw the teary eyes forming on your face.

"open your fucking mouth kid" he said, grabbing a small amount of coke with his finger and smearing it onto your gums. you let the drug do its work as you felt your brain turning into mush, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

you giggled, clearly no longer upset as you grabbed rafe's face and leaned in, giving him a deep kiss. you felt him smirk between your lips as his hands guided your waist. you let out a whine as you felt his tongue slide into your mouth.

"yeah? you happy now baby?" he asked, feeling you crumble against him.

you let out a moan as you began to grind on his lap, leaving a wet stain on his pants "rafeyyy i love it so much iloveyou!!" you whined as you started going down to his neck, sucking on his skin and leaving love bites.

he grabbed the fats of your ass, squeezing it before giving it a slap "yeah baby that's what i fucking thought" he purred out, smirking at how you're grinding on his lap and leaving that wet stain.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut

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bunny-jpeg · 10 months ago

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bear den

bear!john price

cw: pwp/smut, hybrid!au, bunny!reader, bear!price, scenting, breeding, biting, headlock, doggy style, dirty talk, reverse cowgirl

bunny says and you'll never catch me alive!

edit: part two

to be with a bear was something interesting. especially one as much of a lover as price. oh price was just perfect all over. those blue eyes that made you feel protected and warm. that strong grip of his as he bullied his cock into you. he was a strong, with a bit of softness to him and hairy all over. he loved tugging on your little bunny ears while he slammed his cock into your sweet pussy.

the first time you met him. it was quite scary. the dead of winter deep within the woods you called home. you managed to get your way into the warmth of his cabin/den. but your mother told you to never enter the den of a bear. what you soon saw was the lumbering form of bear hybrid.

"what are you doin' here?" he grumbled. his voice heavy was sleep. he was in hibernation after all. but his cock was hard in his sweat pants. he yawned, "if you're gonna make yourself at home. it's gonna cost ya."

the curious bunny gave head to the hairy bear. a tale as old as time. but the notion of bunny cunt seemed to entice the bear and he grabbed you by the ears and dragged you back into his den. the smell of bear was a lot for you, the dominate scent even made you iron resolve crumble. the wetness in your worn panties.

'this'll do." he grumbled as he tossed you on the bed. he got you under the covers. tore off your meager clothes and fucked your bunny hole half asleep. you on the other hand were wide awake. the breath taken out of you. he got through two rounds before his sleepiness took over and he went back to sleep.

he kept you after that, he told you a little bunny like you needed to be protected. who knew what was out there, in the deep darkness of the forest. so you spent the following seasons with him.

you became his lover, he even planted a carrot garden for you when the snow melted. oh he loved his bunny. he loved to tug on your cotton tail or take you by the face to look at him while he had you pressed up against the side of the cabin and your back bent.

but when winter came, he made sure his bunny was taken care of while he was asleep. bunnies could hibernate if they felt safe enough, but you wouldn't be dead to the world if you did.

but in all fairness, the smell of bunny in his cabin didn't keep him asleep for long. you woke up in the morning, snow was pressed up against the window. but the sun shined in.

the smell of price in your bedroom was overwhelming. the room was small, but the big was large. but price's hairy body still made you feel small on the bed. so the smell of the bear hung heavy. the bed had every blanket, pillow, sweater, stuffed animals, anything else he could find to make his nest. the final piece was you. where he tucked you in and snuggled you until he eventually dozed off.

you had been asleep for over a day now, you looked over and saw him sound asleep. you reached for him and kissed him on the nose. his arm was heavy over you. you shifted in your spot and got out from under him.

but you couldn't get out of bed. as he grabbed you by the tail. "where ya goin', love.' he said with sleep heavy in his voice, "i didn't tell ya you could leave." then you were dragged back into bed with a 'hmfph'.

he snuggled you back into his arms, "you don't have my smell on ya." he grumbled as he rubbed his face up against your bare chest. there was no point in having clothes on while in the nest. you were under so many layers you were already warm enough.

"john!" you squeaked as his tongue came out and started to lick across your pulse, "it's only us in the entire area. plus it's only to the kitchen."

"no." he said, he ran his teeth across your pulse, "gotta smell like me." you made a noise as he, in tired trance, got you on your hands and knees. the weight of the blankets and his larger body kept you pinned to the soft mattress.

"john!" you whined, "c'mon!"

he grumbled something. his cock slid up and down your pussy as he tried to push it into you. you arched your back in anticipation. poor price, his head was full of sleepy cotton. he relied on instinct and right now it was directing him to breed his little nest mate.

you moaned, to have your face buried in the pillow. that reeked of your lover only made you wet between your legs. as if the leftover cum from your lover wasn't enough lube for his impressive size. he was big all over. so different from your tiny bunny self, no wondered he wanted to protect you.

and breed you.

your heart raced as he finally got his cock into you. he sank into your sweet cunt. he groaned as he leaned over you and put his arm around your neck and bent your back. his thrusts were sloppy, there was no rhyme or reason, only what felt good.

"you feel so good, love.' he grumbled, "always so perfect for me." his gaze was unfocused, his voice sleepy and slurred, "a good little bunny for me. with your cotton tail and those ears. my girl though, right? all mine? not gonna have ya run off with a coyote or somethin'. keep ya home, keep ya full." he gave you a lazy smile as our eyes met. he leaned in and licked across your cheek. his bear ears twitched at the taste of your soft skin against his rough tongue.

your core throbbed, the entire feeling. the coziness of your den that you shared with price left you feel soft and warm. you were comfortable and safe, so why not let price breed you? you were already so soft and warm, let your brain let it go and accept him.

he held you close to him, bent to his liking to have the best angle of your pussy. his broad paws were all over you, he held your throat and around your middle as he thrusted up into you.

"john." you whimpered, your focus was hazy and your thoughts dripped away like melted snow. the sun shined thought the window of your den, it bathed you in a bright glow.

"i know. i know." he purred, he blinked to get a little more awake, "so small. i could crush ya easily. poor little bunny got caught up with a big bad bear. now she sharin' a nest with him and letting him bully her sweet little cunny."

his words made your brain mushy.

the bed creaked under your love making, he still held you like a toy for his pleasure. he lazily made out with you as he moved you up and down his cock. he groaned, his lips close against yours, "my girl. my little bunny. i love the feeling of ya around me."

you made small noises and hearty pants as the movements continued. as he kept ramming against your sweet sex. you were a right fit for him. after all these months you still were so good for him.

he watched your focus come in and out. your tongue stuck a little out of your mouth. the little bunny had her brains fucked out, oh no! he let go of you. his hands on you as he maneuvered your once more and got you into a reverse cowgirl. the blankets were kicked to the bottom of the bed.

he was propped up against the headboard and kept you in his lap. his cock buried into your slick pussy. he held onto your hips and bounced you on his cock. he wished he could see your breasts bounce with every thrust, but to watch the sweat drip down your back.

your nest got heated, your scent bled a little bit into the air of the room. it was musky and comforting. to be fucked by a bear was something unlike anything you could describe. he just fit you so right.

"good girl."

"john."

"i know, i know." he groaned. the rush of pleasure raced through his body as it did yours. he felt the same euphoric of having his cock buried into his sweet mate. he made sure that his scent was all over you, he was certain it would stick this time.

you leaned forward and held onto the covers that were between his legs. he watched how your pussy swallowed up his cock with each movements of your hips. he licked his lips as he moved your faster.

he watched your cotton-tail twitch, it almost made him cum at that moment. he continued to move your hips, the rush of climax almost washed over him.

the two of you made love like animals in your nest that he had built for you. to protect you. his cock throbbed in your cunt and with a few more thrusts he finished inside of you.

"ah!" you whined as you arched your back. you came as well and clutched onto the sheets. your toes curled and you felt your heart racing.

price felt content as he smothered you in his pecs. they were softer and hairy. he had gotten a little thicker for the winter. you made a soft noise as you were buried in them.

"john."

"i know bunny, i got ya. now sh, time to go back to sleep." he purred as he grabbed the blankets with one hand but kept you to him with the other. he buried you back under the nest of blankets.

yeah, that sounded like a great idea. you weren't even too sure if you could walk if you got up. so with the glow of the morning sun peeking through your window, you fell back asleep with your face in your mate's chest.

it was spring now. but you and your bear mate have been slow to wake up for it. price still was in a tired mindset, constantly cuddled up to your partially swollen belly. you were only four months, but price still adored how you carried his cub.

he made a gruff noise and cuddled up with your middle further. his facial hair which had grown over hibernation brushed up against your exposed middle. such a cute little bunny and her adoring mate.

you ran your fingers through your hair as you heard the birds chirp outside and the sound of melting snow. next winter it would be you, price and your little cub all sharing a nest to sleep soundly through the winter <3

xoxo,

bunny

part two <3

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