#now imagine him saying that with his accent

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/lost-in-fandoms/762168056269144064/thinking-about-streamer-max-who-lowkey-does?source=share

Omg. Omg!!!! Streamer Max my beloved! What does Daniel do when he stumbles onto Max's stream? I'm just imagining him clicking on a random link or something and suddenly bam he's got a face full of this pretty streamer with slutty short shorts!

(Anyway love your work and hope you have a great day!! 🥰)

You are so sweet I hope you have a great day too!!

Some slutty streamer Max to try and have something good to end the day with

Daniel sighs, rolling over towards the bedside table and grabbing his phone, checking the time for what feels like the twentieth time that night already.

4:42 am.

Just twenty minutes after the last time he checked.

He sighs again, sitting up slightly to drink some water, resigned to the fact that he'll probably won't get any sleep tonight either. If he's lucky, he'll get a couple hours when the sun is rising and then sneak a nap in somewhere during the afternoon.

He knows that jet lag is not helping, having landed in Perth from Los Angeles just two days ago, but he's been dealing with this insomnia for way too long to lie to himself any further. Sleep simply isn't coming.

He's tried most things already tonight, from the relaxing herbal tea his mom had recommended, to the white noise machine, to the podcasts, to the meditation. Nothing has worked.

He grabs his phone again, going through some of his messages and emails before clicking on the twitch app.

It's something new he's been trying the past couple of weeks, doesn't even remember who recommended it to him, and so far it hasn't worked, but at this point into the night he's willing to do anything. Whoever it was who first told him about it had been speaking about ASMR streams and music channels, but Daniel has been mostly browsing around, not really finding anything that catches his eye.

Tonight, he moves past the few streams he has followed already, scrolling through the live channels without looking for anything in particular, until something catches his eyes.

At first glance the stream doesn't look like anything special, even if the game itself looks cute, just a guy in a dimly lit room in a corner of the screen, mouth moving to say words Daniel can't hear yet, but.

The guy is sitting on a gaming chair, leaning back slightly in a way that Daniel doubts is fully comfortable, legs splayed, his short shorts bunched up to leave milky skin on display. He's using both hands to play, but just as Daniel is watching, slightly transfixed, he laughs, probably at something in chat, and brings one hand away to lightly scratch at his neck and then down to his leg, pulling it more to the side, fingers grazing on his crotch.

Daniel swallows.

He taps on the screen, opening the stream without really thinking about it, finally letting the guy's voice play through the speakers.

"...just for 40 more minutes. No, you cannot bribe me for one hour, Kiks, not even if you use the cute emote. I have work."

He has an accent, a lisp that comes out when he says Kiks, bright blue eyes and a lovely smile. And a hand that is still on his dick.

Daniel's eyes fall on the name of the stream, Farming some slimes, which tells him nothing, and the name of the game, Slime Rancher 2, which tells him that at least he's not in some sort of secret porn category, before going back to the camera square.

The guy is now playing again, hands just barely in view from where they're wrapped around the controller, and Daniel takes a breath, trying to gather his bearings after feeling like he's just been hit over the head with an hammer.

The chat is scrolling by slowly, his 236 viewers obviously not all interested in talking, so Daniel has no problem catching the last few messages. It's mostly people complaining about the guy leaving early, the person he was talking to earlier, KicksforKiks24, offering to gift some subs if he stays longer, and Daniel wonders if he is the only one noticing the absolutely sinful thighs on display here.

Nightnectior: What if I ask really nicely Max?

The new message pops up in chat, and Daniel watches as the streamer, Max apparently, laughs again, shaking his head.

"No, Night, I told you, I have things to do early in the morning."

Okay, maybe Daniel is the weird one here. Maybe he is the only one thinking about Max's legs and reading his posture wrong. Maybe he is the only perv in this chat, and everyone else is absolutely normal.

Severson: would love to see you do /things/ in the morning

Daniel chokes on his spit.

He's expecting Max to ignore it, or to delete the message, or to have any kind of reasonable reaction, but Max.

Max grins.

He blinks slowly, shifting on the chair almost casually, bringing one foot up to rest on the seat, shorts bunching up so much Daniel can see a hint of pubes, the outline of his balls and dick now fully visible, and then sliding a hand down his thigh to rest on his lower belly, fingers grazing his crotch again.

"Would you?" he asks, voice low.

Daniel has forgotten what Max's asking about. He's forgotten about anything that isn't the desire of sinking his teeth in the meat of his thigh, to have them wrapped around his head, and the knowledge that his dick is half hard already.

"I don't think that's how it works," Max says, in response to a message Daniel doesn't even care to look at right now. He's barely aware of the chat going faster now, more messages popping up in a rapid succession.

"Oh look at all of you, coming out to play."

Max's hand slides lower, now fully on his dick, as he giggles, a sliver of his stomach exposed too. Daniel's heart is beating in his ears. He doesn't know what's happening.

There's a new sound on the stream, something that startles Daniel out of his daze enough to realise someone has just donated €50 just to call Max a pretty boy.

Daniel wonders how hard it is to figure out how donations work. How much he can donate without his bank blocking his account. How much it would take for Max to do something.

He swallows, feeling slightly insane.

Max's fingers squeeze once.

Daniel's breath stutters in his chest, his hands twitching, wanting to touch himself too but so transfixed he doesn't dare moving.

And then Max shifts, grabbing the controller again and sitting up a bit, shirt falling back into place. Even if the outline of his dick is still clearly visible, something in the spell breaks, letting Daniel breathe again.

He can still feel his heart rabbiting in his chest, his mouth dry. His dick is hard under the sheets.

With a trembling finger, Daniel presses follow.

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 12

Loop #380

Mumbo: Ok, it is done!

Scar: What is- WHAT IS THAT!?!

Grian: Is that why you needed the power stone?

Mumbo: It sure is mate. I present to you the new and improved powers stone powered Buttercups mech.

Grian: It's great!

Mumbo: Doc stands no chance against it!

Scar: Wooho! big and large! My favorite combo!

Mumbo: ... U-uh. R-right moving on.

Scar: What!?

Loop #383

Scott: Thomas sanders, right?

Thomas: Yeah? A looper right? Whose place did you take?

Scott: Oh right right, I'll be your Creativity for this loop.

Thomas: Oh... can you tell me why my friends had animal features this time around?

Scott: Oh that is a thing from our loop that seems to have carried over.

Thomas: ... Wait...Ours?

Scott: Right! Morality!

Jimmy: Hello! First fused loop for me so I'm a bit nervous... Why didn't you just call me by name though.

Scott: Easiest way to introduce your role. Next, Logic!

Mumbo: H-here! I uh... I really should have been anxiety though.

Jimmy: Eh, I see it. You are like, really smart Mumbo.

Mumbo: Oh... thanks.

Scott: Well, since you mentioned her, Anxiety!

Pearl: Hello mate.

Thomas: My anxiety being australian I didn't expect.

Pearl: Yeah... did you know about this australian spider that can kill you and is basically impossible to see?

Thomas: This is going terribly.

Jimmy: Listen It's not that bad, right?

Thomas: ...

Scott: It is pretty bad... Thomas' sides are all fragments of his personality but we aren't...we are complex people It's difficult to do their job.

Thomas: ...

Scott: Take me, sure I'm colorful and creative and prideful and all about that jazz but I'm also rational. I can't give Thomas the same delusional and completely fantastical type of pure creativity and imagination that he needs.

Jimmy: Well I think I'm doing a good job as morality!

Thomas: You are It's just...

Scott: You are also prideful and get weird when you feel insulted so your flavour. morality is too emotional, you also aren't used to killing being a bad thing as the life series has multiple respawns and Empires has infinite which means that the most basic morals of don't kill and don't steal don't really come to you naturally.

Jimmy: O-oh... well, I'm trying.

Scott: And Mumbo?

Mumbo: Y-yeah?

Scott: I mean it in the nicest way...Logic is supposed to reign Anxiety in, not akwardly stutter whenever Pearl makes a point.

Pearl: What can I say, I'm right.

Scott: And Pearl, I know you are having fun with this but you are treapassing into intrusive thoughts territories way too often.

Pearl: Do I? I'm sorry mate, I didn't mean to.

Thomas: It's...it's fine, I understand It's hard I just-

Mumbo: U-uh can I say something?

Thomas: Y-yeah?

Mumbo: Uh...you do know Scott scottish accent is not really that strong right?

Scott?: ... Frick... Well, I knew it wouldn't last forever.

Thomas: Huh!?

Grian: Hello Thomas, I just couldn't stay back while...this happened.

Pearl: G! You cunt! You didn't tell us you were here!

Grian: Sorry, sorry, just wanted to keep the surprise a surprise.

Mumbo: Grian!? You are here!

Grian: Sure thing Mumbo.

Thomas: How did I not-

Grian: What can I say? I'm a looper, I'm really good at lying. Now, I have a few ideas to fix these issues.

Thomas: Ok, ok this is fine Scott I need some ideas for the video-

Scott: Already on it! Are you-

Scar: Have you ever tought about tasting human flesh? I heard and totally have no experience with it that it tastes like pig.

Thomas: What!? No!

Pearl: Scar!?! Grian, did you know about him being here too!?

Grian: Yep, sure thing.

Pearl: And you didn't say anything.

Grian: Funnier this way.

Scar: Ok, ok, what if you stole a bone from a grave and sold it to one of their family members!

Thomas: Nooo!

Scar: Hm...

Scott: Got anything else?

Scar: ... Uh...murder?

Thomas: Not happening.

Loop #387

Jimmy had known about this type of loop from Grian, still waking up with healing powers and stuck in a tower was a lot. Still Grian said he just needed to reach the castle, reunite with this loop's version of his parents and get mother gothel apprehended. Which he did, in record time he might add which meant he was surprised when the loop didn't finish immediately when Grian said it would. It lasted a while more actually, he even got a special guard-

Jimmy: Pearl!?

Pearl: Jimmy!?! Of course you are taking Rapunzel's place.

Jimmy: You are my guard now?

Pearl: Yeah, It's my sworn duty to protect you.

Jimmy: So... why did the loop not end?

Pearl: This is the extended version of the loop mate.

Jimmy: Oh. Oh! Ohhhh.

Pearl: ...

Jimmy: I don't know anything about it.

Pearl: Oh right, well... follow my lead, mate and you'll be good.

Jimmy: Ok!

Jimmy: That's...different from the healing incantation.

Pearl: Yeah, don't read it.

Jimmy: What why not?

Pearl: It's not going to be good.

Jimmy: Well now I want to read it!

Pearl: Jimmy no-

Jimmy: Wither and decay... see nothing bad.

Pearl: Don't the words not make you think about it!?!

Jimmy: Hmm... End this destiny... no! Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free.

Pearl: Ok then, I'm just going to wait here to tell you I told you so.

Jimmy: Nothing is happening. Wither and decay, end this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free.

Pearl: Guess It's happening.

Jimmy: Wither and decay, end this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free. Wither and decay, end this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free.

Pearl: ...fuck.

Jimmy: The moonstone? It's pretty.

Pearl: Yeah.

Jimmy: So do I just grab it?

Pearl: About that, plans have changed.

Jimmy: Uh?

Pearl: Listen, I'm the PearleascentMOON, I have a bit of a thing going on.

Jimmy: Don't -

And then light enveloped the room.

Jimmy: I can't believe you tricked me for the bit!

Pearl: Oh C'mon, it was funny.

Jimmy: ... Power of the sun, gift me with your light-

Pearl: And that's my cue to go.

Loop #393

Jimmy: Wait, why did I get Mabel's place and you Dipper!?

Pearl: You tell me mate.

Jimmy: You know what? I don't care. This is going to be great anyway.

Pearl: You do know what happens in gravity fall, right?

Jimmy: Not really! Just the basics!

Pearl: ... Right. Don't get your hopes up too high.

Jimmy: Wait, what happens!?

Pearl: ...

Jimmy: I hate gnomes.

Pearl: Big L.

Jimmy: Not even king! Queen! They tried to make me wear a dress!

Pearl: Nothing wrong with a dress.

Jimmy: There is when I'm forced into it by small creepy men.

Jimmy: How do people deal with so much...this!?!

Pearl: Probably used to it, they live here. It would be weirder if they didn't.

Jimmy: I- I guess!? You know what, I'm going to make more sweaters.

Jimmy: Oh, we can't just leave Pacifica there all alone.

Pearl: But she's a-

Jimmy: You said she gets better though.

Pearl: ... Yeah but-

Jimmy: Pacifica! Do you want a ride?

Gideon: EGASSEM SDRAWKCAB EGASSEM SDRAWKCAB EGASSEM SDRAWKCAB!

Grian: Oh It's nice to be here! You must be Gideon then?

Gideon: What are- How do you know my name?

Grian: Oh, I know lots of things. Lots of things.

Jimmy: Grian!?!

Grian: Hey there Timmy, I told Pearl this would happen eventually.

Jimmy: Why are you talking to me?

Grian: Well, it is near the time when the puppet show happens, you just didn't make them.

Jimmy: ...What?

Grian: Doesn't matter, at this point Bill would posses Dipper but I don't really want to posses Pearl, a bit unconfortable for me.

Jimmy: I'm not letting you posses me G.

Grian: Oh C'mon, it would be funny!

Jimmy: Why do even want to?

Grian: The nightmare realm is just so boooring. I promise I won't embarass you.

Jimmy: ...I want control at least 75% of the time.

Grian: no way, 50%.

Jimmy: 70%.

Grian: ... 60%.

Jimmy: ... Fine.

Grian: It's a deal then?

Jimmy: Yes.

Pearl: Grian you-

Grian: What? I didn't do anything!

Pearl: You caused Weirdmageddon!?!

Grian: Oh come on, It's so much tamer then canon, i'd call it Tamemageddon even.

Pearl: Grian.

Grian: I even turned infinte respawns AND keep inventory on.

Pearl: Grian.

Grian: Look at Timmy, he's having a blast! Aaaand I know for sure someone wants to pratice using the moonstone and chaos magic together.

Pearl: ...

Grian: I'm not going to hurt anyone Pearl, this is all innocent fun.

Pearl: ... Fine.

Prev Next First

[mpsansy]

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to respect people’s boundaries? Guess not, since you’re the unfortunate idiot who stumbled into a deadman’s house.”

[todayisafridaynight]

i cant explain it but daigo being subtitled to just be like 'you're making me look like i have no balls' feels so illegal and wrong. hilarious but something's off

[l4deeznuts]

ok but the japanese l4d survivor blake jordon… we need more fanart and content and head canons and

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

[hella1975]

sometimes i think about the fact my grandparents literally overnight just cut us off and im like. how did u even do that. does it torment you

[pronouncingitwang]

.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 

Antoine shook your shoulders. 

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 

“O-okay.. I guess..” 

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 

“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 

 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 

[utilityknif3]

Nsfw!!! tehee

Imagine being Simon Ghost Riley’s ex wife who he can’t forget. You two have a son together and after being on a mission for a few weeks, he wanted to take him out somewhere for some quality time since you had full custody.

Even though he’s been away for only a few weeks, you two haven’t seen each other for months now.

…

Simon knocks on your door hesitantly. He wants to see you, he needs to. But when you open the door, he doesn’t know what to say.

You’re so beautiful, you changed but you’re glowing.

You just greet him with a simple “hi” and let him in. Simon walks in, lowering his head so he doesn’t hit it on the doorframe and you both sit on the couch and wait…

“He’s not here” you say, breaking the silence and trying to make the situation less awkward after a moment of silence.

“Where is he?” He asks with his deep voice and thick British accent that makes your heart melt each time.

“He’s at his friend’s birthday, he’ll be back later…in a few hours” you reply not daring to look at him in the eyes.

“In a few hours��aight” Simon passes a hand through his short blond hair, trying to think of something to say.

…

You two have been trying to hold a decent conversation for an hour now, catching up on your respective lives. He tells you about the struggles of his job and you tell him about whatever’s been bothering you lately…until you felt his gaze lower to your hand, especially the finger where your ring is placed, the ring he placed. The ring you can’t get rid of even though you tried to.

“You still have your wedding band?”

He asks as he stares at the ring he passed on your finger a few years before, as if he was mesmerized. He wished to do it again, and again… see you all dolled up in your pretty dress for him with that beautiful smile on your face. You two were so happy that day, like it was the best day of your lives.

He wished he could fuck you again like the night of your wedding, slowly and steadily. It was so intimate, just the two of you, his hair tickling your jaw as he pounded into you. He remembers the way your arms were wrapped around his neck and the way your hands would move to touch his hair. He remembers the sloppy kisses he gave you while he was listening to the soft symphony your moans were composing.

Simon snaps out of his transe when you answer

“Yes…it’s a pretty ring after all”

He nods.

He feels dumb for thinking that you two still had something; you moved on and it was clear.

He doesn’t want you to know that he kept the ring and a few of your things too. He doesn’t want you to know that you’re the one in his mind when he’s alone jerking himself off and overstimulating his soaked cock trying to recreate what you would do to him. He’s ashamed. The shirt that you forgot to get back from him had already been stained with his cum so many times that it doesn’t even smell like you anymore.

You already moved on but he didn’t, he never forgot your dates where you’d be just the two of you on the couch watching an old crappy movie. He never forgot the long hours he’d spend sleeping on your pregnancy belly while you’d caress gently his freshly cut hair. He never forgot the way your son would grab his big tatted arm in his small hands…He never forgot the feeling of your pussy squeezing him and taking him so well. The way you’d ride him on nights he felt tired, or the way your tongue would swirl around his tip, trying to milk every drop of cum he had left in him.

Simon loves you, he loves everything about you and never stoped loving you…

…

…that’s why you’re on the couch right now with his face buried in between your thighs. Simon’s tongue passes through your folds and teases your clit slowly while you scratch his hair. He’s so good for you, going a bit faster each time he hears you whimper.

The tip of his tongue teases your soaking hole while your toes curl around nothing.

After a moment of this sweet torture, he finally decides that his pants were getting too tight and stops licking you. He lifts his eyes to look at you, his face all red from embarrassment as your hand leaves his hair.

“Please, let me fuck you like you deserve” He asks politely while you’re panting heavily. At this point, his dick is the only thing you’ve been wanting. It’s been a while, too long.

You agree with a nod and he doesn’t hesitate to lift you up and put you gently on the kitchen counter. He used to make love to you for hours on it, it was the perfect height. He could fuck you from the front with your legs over his shoulders or from the back with your boobs pressed against the cold granite countertop.

He takes a moment to appreciate your body and watches you all vulnerable and needy for him. He wants to make you cry, to make you beg for more because he knows you will want more. He’s the only one who knows what’s best for you.

As you adjust your body on the counter, Simon hurries to take his fully hard boner out of his pants and boxers. It’s bigger than you remember, covered of his precum and ready to stuff you full of his semen.

You bite your lip in anticipation the moment he grips your thigh to holds it up. He’s so hot when he’s on top, his eyebrows are furrowed as he lines up his dick with the hole of your soaked cunt.

He puts it in with a low “fuck” escaping his lips. You feel so good around him.

Simon pounds into you, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, making sure to leave dark bruises on your skin. He’s loosing himself into your folds feeling your burning walls squeeze his cock too much for him to hold his orgasm.

He burries his dick deeply into you, his tip kissing your cervix at each thrust and eventually it begins to feel too stimulating, too good. Simon cums into you but doesn’t stop his hips from moving. The white substance drips down to the counter and his moans are higher and louder. Now, his thrust are messy and uneven because of the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling trying to bring you to your climax.

You reach it eventually, your own juices melting with his as you two are panting messes. Simon looks at you, at your beautiful face he missed so much. He won’t let you go again.

…

About an hour later, after a good shower, he randomly decides to kiss you and mumbles “I love you”

I know the end is ass idk how to end fics 🤯 and tbh I know that my writing sucks also bc I have great ideas but poor grammar and vocabulary 😓 I promise to get better bear with me 🙌🏾

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. soft smut. breeding kink.

On the continuation of my “Soft!Ghost” ideas: 

Imagine lovemaking with Simon. 

Simon has you—his pretty girl—tucked inside his bedroom, sandwiched between him and the mattress. Right in his arms, where you rightfully belong. 

(In his arms, you’re protected. Safe. Nothing could possibly ever harm you.)

Of course, the intensity of sex differs with his moods. On some days, he is a delicious mix of dominant and aggressive, claiming your body with a certain roughness that reflects how possessive he is over you. But, on other days, all Simon wants is to possess your heart and soul, in some desperate frenzy to stake his claim over them. 

You were made for Simon. In his eyes, that is the truth. How could it not be? Every inch of you—from the curve of your hipbones and the tanalizing way your bottom lip shines with a fresh layer of gloss to how your beautiful, doe eyes twinkle anytime he is near—is all his. You’re irresistible.

And when you lay beneath him, completely bare, ripe for the taking, whining out for his touch, what else could he possibly do than worship you? 

One arm keeps him steadily up, towering over you; the other cradles your soft cheek against his palm. His thumb strokes along your cheekbone. He’s gentle, smiling, even chuckling. “I’ve got you, baby,” he purrs in that deep, hoarse accent. “Shhh, darlin’. C’mon, lemme take care of ya.” 

“ Si…”

Your body stiffens as Simon gently slides himself into your pussy, until he’s buried balls deep; he lets out a breathless “fuck” as you tighten around his cock, followed by a low groan. “Perfect for me, aren’t ya?” He pauses, leaning to kiss you for a moment.

“That’s my good girl,” he mumbles against your lips, letting his tongue entangle with yours. “So fucking good for me.” 

His hips slap against yours at a slow, gentle pace—matching his thrusts. “C’mon, baby, fuck.” You whine in response, arching your back, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders while your pretty, teary eyes hold his gaze. 

“ Simon…! ” 

Simon chuckles, takes one of your hands in his, and flattens it against your lower stomach. “Feel that, love?” You gasp, nodding. There is an unmistakable bulge in your belly; you can feel it. “Aye, that’s me.” Your cunt takes him so unbelievably well; he cannot stop pistoning his cock in and out of you. 

God, he thinks, you were made for him.

You were fucking made for me. 

The only thing that could possibly be better than this is—

“Lemme make you a mum,” Simon suddenly says, groaning. “God, baby, need to make you one.” His fingers find your nipple, pinching it before rubbing it back and forth, causing you to squeal. “—make these pretty tits all swollen. You’d be so bloody gorgeous, love.” 

Simon wants a family, so fucking badly. He is beyond desperate for one  — ever since he looked into your eyes for the first time, and saw his future staring back. At the time, the feeling was confusing and disorienting….

…now, it all made sense.

“Yeah?” Mid-thrust, he kisses you again, swallowing your gasps and tiny whimpers as he splits you open on his cock. “You gonna let me make you a mum?” Another thrust. “C’mon, baby, use your words, my girl.” 

You nod, unable to muster up a response to your husband; instead, your mouth falls open—pretty, pink lips dropping into a perfect “o." “P-Please, Si…” your soft, little voice whines out, stirring up more heat in Simon. 

(He loves your voice. So bloody fucking much. You could ask him to raze the Earth to a burnt crisp, and he’d do it for you.) 

“Please what, baby?” 

The sensation of his massive cock overwhelms you. You fall slack as an orgasm rips through your body, robbing away all of your inhibitions; all you can do is let out another high-pitched moan, praying your body gives him the answer that your voice cannot. 

“Fuck — gonna breed you, baby. Gonna have my kid in you by the weekend.”

It’s a promise. His thrusts continue, in the exact same measure as before, not wanting to fuck you, but to make love to you. “You’re so bloody beautiful.” He’s gonna cum. Cum deep inside you; give you the family you deserve.

“Look at ya — bloody work of art.” 

Flushed cheeks; breasts sweaty and heaving with countless love marks scattered around the skin; your fingers card softly through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He’s a lucky bastard, indeed. 

“I love you."

Simon repeats those three words— “I love you. I love you. I love you.” —against your mouth, feeling his entire body tauten before he spills his cum inside you.

I love you. You saved me. You’re everything to me. 

You smile up at him, flushed all prettily, and he flashes a smile back, taking a moment to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. God, he fucking loves you.

“I love you,” he says again…and again…and again.

notes: my attempt at writing smut for the first time in months. if it sucks, it's cause im in my late luteal phase.

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[pucksandpower]

Rained Out

Toto Wolff x pregnant!Reader

Summary: a series of unfortunate events pushes Toto’s protective side to the surface

Based on this request

The rain drums steadily against the pavement, creating a shimmering curtain that obscures the bustling Canadian Grand Prix paddock from view. You stand just outside the entrance, one hand resting protectively on your swollen belly, the other clutching your useless paddock pass. The security guard eyes you sympathetically but remains firm.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t let you in if your pass isn’t scanning,” he says, his voice barely audible over the downpour.

You bite your lip, frustration and discomfort warring within you. “Please, I’m Toto Wolff’s wife. I’m sure this is just a technical glitch. If you could just call him-”

The guard shakes his head. “I’ve already radioed in. Mr. Wolff is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed. I’m truly sorry, but rules are rules. You’ll have to wait until we can verify your identity.”

A shiver runs through you as the wind picks up, sending icy droplets cascading down your neck. Your thin jacket, hastily thrown on before leaving the hotel, offers little protection against the elements. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shield your unborn child from the chill.

Time crawls by at an agonizing pace. Other team members and officials hurry past, sparing curious glances at the very pregnant woman standing forlornly in the rain. You try Toto’s phone again, willing it to ring.

Finally, after what feels like hours but is likely only thirty minutes, a familiar voice cuts through the monotonous patter of rain.

“Schatz! Oh mein Gott, what are you doing out here?”

Toto appears, his tall frame moving with surprising speed. His eyes are wide with concern as he takes in your bedraggled state.

“The pass ... it wouldn’t scan,” you manage through chattering teeth. “They couldn’t reach you.”

Toto’s face darkens as he turns to the security guard. “How could you leave my pregnant wife standing in this weather? Do you have any idea-”

You place a gentle hand on his arm. “Toto, don’t. He was just doing his job.”

The anger in Toto’s eyes softens as he looks at you, replaced by guilt and worry. He shrugs off his team jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, ushering you quickly through the now-open gate.

“Come, let’s get you inside and dry,” he murmurs, his arm protectively around your waist.

As you enter the relative warmth of the Mercedes garage, the bustle of pre-race preparations momentarily halts. All eyes turn to you and Toto, taking in your drenched appearance.

“Somebody get some towels!” Toto barks, his accent thickening with stress. “And find some dry clothes!”

You lean into him, grateful for his solid presence. “I’m okay, really,” you assure him, though your voice wavers slightly. “Just a bit damp.”

Toto’s eyebrows shoot up. “A bit damp? Liebling, you look like you’ve been swimming in your clothes.”

Despite your discomfort, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I always did want to try synchronized swimming. Though I imagined a pool, not a parking lot.”

Toto’s lips twitch, a reluctant smile breaking through his worry. “Your sense of humor remains intact, I see.”

A team member approaches with a stack of fluffy towels and what appears to be team-issued sweats. Toto takes them with a nod of thanks.

“Can you manage changing by yourself?” He asks quietly. “Or do you need help?”

You consider for a moment. While you’d normally insist on independence, your sodden clothes are clinging uncomfortably, and your fingers feel numb from the cold.

“I ... might need a hand,” you admit sheepishly.

Toto nods, guiding you towards a more private corner of the garage. He helps you peel off the wet layers, his touch gentle and reverent as it skims over your rounded belly.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs as he helps you into the dry clothes. “I should have made sure your pass was working properly. I should have answered my phone.”

You cup his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Hey, none of that. It was just a silly mix-up. No harm done.”

Toto’s brow furrows. “No harm? You were standing in the freezing rain for God knows how long! You could get sick, or the baby-”

“The baby is fine,” you interrupt, placing his large hand on your stomach. As if on cue, there’s a strong kick against his palm. “See? Still doing somersaults in there.”

Some of the tension leaves Toto’s shoulders, but concern still lingers in his eyes. “Still, I want Dr. Müller to check you over, just to be safe.”

You nod, knowing arguing would be pointless. “Alright, if it will make you feel better. But first ...” You glance meaningfully at the bustling garage around you. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for?”

Toto hesitates, clearly torn between his professional duties and his desire to fuss over you. You give him a gentle push.

“Go on. I promise I’ll sit quietly and drink something warm until the doctor arrives.”

He searches your face for a moment, then nods. “Alright. But you call me immediately if you feel even slightly unwell, verstanden?”

“Verstanden,” you echo with a smile. “Now go be the big, scary team principal everyone expects.”

Toto chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, you know that?”

“I had an inkling,” you tease. “Now scoot!”

As Toto reluctantly returns to his duties, you settle into a chair, gratefully accepting a steaming mug of tea from a hovering team member. The garage slowly returns to its normal frenetic pace, though you notice several concerned glances thrown your way.

You’re halfway through your tea when a familiar face appears at your side. Lewis crouches down, his expression a mix of worry and amusement.

“I hear you tried to stage your own wet race out there,” he says with a grin.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “What can I say? I was feeling left out of all the excitement.”

Lewis chuckles, then his face grows more serious. “You alright though? For real?”

You nod, touched by his concern. “I’m fine, truly. Just a bit waterlogged. Though I think Toto might spontaneously combust from worry.”

As if summoned by his name, Toto appears behind Lewis. “Yes, Dr. Müller, thank you for coming on such short notice. She’s right here.”

You shoot Lewis an exasperated look that clearly says ‘see what I mean?’ He responds with a sympathetic pat on your shoulder before rising.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says. “Try not to give the old man a heart attack before the race, yeah?”

Toto scowls playfully at Lewis’ retreating back. “I heard that!”

As Dr. Müller begins her examination, Toto hovers anxiously nearby, his eyes darting between you and the various race preparations happening around the garage.

“Toto,” you call softly. “I can practically hear you thinking from here. What’s wrong?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of stress. “I just ... I can’t stop thinking about you standing out there in the rain. What if something had happened? What if-”

“But nothing did happen,” you interrupt gently. “I’m fine, the baby’s fine. It was just a bit of rain.”

Toto shakes his head. “It’s not just that. I should have been there. I should have made sure you were taken care of. What kind of husband, what kind of father am I going to be if I can’t even-”

“Stop right there,” you say firmly. “You are going to be an amazing father, Toto Wolff. You already are. Do you know how I know?”

He looks at you questioningly.

“Because you care this much,” you explain. “Because even in the middle of one of the biggest race weekends of the year, your first thought is for me and our baby. That’s what matters, not some silly mishap with a security pass.”

Toto’s eyes soften, and he moves to kneel beside you, taking your hand in his. “How did I get so lucky?” He murmurs.

You smile, squeezing his hand. “I ask myself the same thing every day.”

Dr. Müller clears her throat, reminding you both of her presence. “Well, I’m happy to report that both mother and baby are perfectly healthy. No signs of distress or illness from the exposure to the cold.”

The relief on Toto’s face is palpable. “Thank you, Doctor. That’s wonderful news.”

As Dr. Müller packs up her equipment, you turn to Toto with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So, now that we’ve established that I’m not about to melt from a little rain, what do you say we focus on winning this race?”

Toto laughs, the remaining tension finally leaving his body. “Always keeping me on track, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to,” you tease. “Now, go lead your team to victory. Your very pregnant, very proud wife will be cheering you on from right here.”

Toto leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he murmurs. “Both of you.”

As he straightens up, resuming his role as the formidable Mercedes team principal, you can’t help but smile. Come rain or shine, paddock pass or no paddock pass, you know that you and Toto can weather any storm together.

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ‘vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[aphelionwrotes11]

MDNI 18+ (light dubcon) unedited

Part 3 : Trucker!simon

CW: smut, cunnilingus/fingering, fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort

1.6k words

Trucker!simon finally takes his bird home

It takes only a month before you’re quitting your job at the shitty truck stop and talking your landlord out of your lease. Simon does all of the heavy lifting when it comes to the moving. Attaches a trailer to the back of his semi cab and uses that to haul your belongings to his private home in the outskirts of the city.

He tells you this is his actual house, the one he’s taken you to before was just the rental he kept to stay in when he was in the city. Just more convenient, closer to the loading dock for the company he works for. It shocks you that he can afford to rent and own a property at the same time, and he does it just because it’s convenient.

It’s a real nice property, large and lush. The long gravel driveway is lined with pines and brush, at the end is a two story home with a large unfenced yard full of green grass and clover. You can’t help the way you gape at the house, So beautiful, and obviously paid for by the money he made in the military and his fat check from long rides in his truck.

He walks you around the entire property as soon as you get there, showing you around inside and out. The house is even more beautiful inside than out, with gorgeous stained glass windows, wooden beams, spiraling stairs, and a kitchen lined with green tile with flower accents. The decor itself is all rather plain, practically a blank canvas, but it just gives you more to work with. There’s a couch where there’s supposed to be one, a coffee table, plates and silverware for two, but not much else.

When you question him on why there’s practically no furniture at all, he just says he’s never needed much. You imagine so, just one man living in a big house. He doesn’t mention that he bought this property not too long after he saw you for the first time, known since the beginning he would have you one way or another.

“Ther’s space in th’back for a garden. Can put whatever ya want in it.” He tells you, and smiles as you grin excitedly, saying that’s great because you’ve always wanted to start up a garden. (He knows, came home and built up some plant beds and bought gardening supplies after you told him that on the first date.)

He spends the next few hours helping you unpack all of your things, which isn’t much. Didn’t exactly have a lot of space for anything other than necessities in your dingy apartment. He takes extra care placing your folded clothes into your shared dresser. Lining your panties beside his boxers. Chuckles as you wave him off, telling him you can do it yourself with a blush on your cheeks. Walks away with a pair of black lace panties tucked in his back pocket, he’s gonna put those in his truck for the next ride out.

The first few weeks are like a dream, the two of you spending nearly every moment together. You weren’t expecting it to feel this easy. You weren’t expecting yourself to wanna be around him so much. You used to call yourself an introvert, preferred your personal time and space over all else. But now you find yourself crawling across the couch to nestle yourself into his arms late at night, or opting to read your books on the bench in the garage as he works on his truck.

The first time he leaves for work isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, he was gone for only 14 hours. Left in the early morning when it was still dark and came home just in time for dinner.

The second time wasn’t so easy, his ride was a full 25 hours away, and you found yourself nervous the entire time he was gone. He told you before hand that he would occasionally have to go on overnight rides, sometimes he’d have to go on rides that would take a week. But he assured you that those were few and far between. Unfortunately he had told you that before holiday season.

And now, as the next week goes by and you find yourself only seeing your boyfriend a few hours a day, your irritation only grows with each passing 24 hours. When he comes back to his lovely bird being sharp and cold, he knows that something has gotta change.

“Whots th’matter, bird? Talk to me.” He says, a tinge of desperation in his voice, only to be met with your frown as you turned back to your book.

When he first picked up this job after retiring from the military, he didn’t mind the ever changing schedule or long rides. Figured it was for the best, something to keep him busy until he’s too old to work anymore. That was until he met you. Suddenly the long rides felt like eternity until he could return to that greasy truck stop to see you again.

And now that he has you all for himself, the long rides and changing hours make him dread waking up in the morning just to leave your beautiful sleeping form all alone. On the third day of your cold shoulder, the next time he goes into work he has a talk with his boss. He’s promised a strict schedule and reduced hours as soon as the holiday season is finished, with all of the other truckers already knee deep in work, it just wasn’t an option to implement his new schedule so soon.

He makes plans to use a couple weeks of his unused PTO by the next month so that he can make up for the lost time.

When he comes home after a particularly rough shift, his skin feels tight and muscles tense, all he can hope for is to pull you into his arms and nestle his face into your neck. But as it’s been for the past few days, you’re cold once he comes home. He can’t help the irritation that builds in his gut as you ignore him when he asks how your day was.

“Alright bird, that’s it.” He says, rising from his seat that the table and getting to you in record time.

You gasp as he lifts you up and lays you on the kitchen island. Ignores your protests as he lifts up your nightgown and pulls down your panties to reveal an already glistening pussy.

“Been so good for you bird, workin’ so hard, gettin’ that shit done just to come home to you all pissy..” he growls, letting out a low groan as he presses a thumb to your swollen clit.

“Whot you so mad at me for? Think you can’t talk to me?” He asks, pressing his index finger into your pussy as you squirm.

“Would rather you yell at me than this shit- fuck-“ he says lowly, bringing his nose down to your lips and sniffing..like a dog. Chuckles as you whine at him.

“Don’t worry birdie, I’ll make you feel better.”

With that, he starts thrusting his fingers into your throbbing cunt as he licks your clit with his thick tongue.

It’s not long before he’s thrusting into you at a godforsaken pace, the only sounds being your moans and mewls, his low groans, and the lewd sound of your wet pussy being finger fucked and sucked on by his drooling mouth.

“Love you bird, y’know I do-“ he mumbles into your pussy, pressing a kiss to your clit.

You feel that familiar coil of pleasure tighten in your core, your toes are curling, your nerves are hot. You choke out a warning, telling him you are so, so close. He doesn’t relent, just carries on.

The orgasm is blinding, your eyes rolling back into your head as you clamp your thighs around his head. He moans into your pussy as you cum, slurping up your juices and rubbing his nose against your clit.

Pushes you to the point of near overstimulation, stops once you start crying that it’s too much. When he pulls away, a string of his spit and your juices is connected to his mouth. His pupils are blown wide and he looks out of it. He’s panting, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he presses kisses into the tender skin.

He presses his cheek into your tummy and glances up at you, “feeling better?” He asks with a smirk.

After he’s finished with you (which is when the sun has long since set) and you are snuggled in his warm arms on your shared bed is when he tells you about his conversation with his boss.

“M’sorry. Been neglecting ya, haven’t I birdie? Won’t do it again.” He tells you. But you shush him with your own apologies, telling him you should’ve just talked to him, shouldn’t have ignored him and so on.

“Don’t ever feel ‘fraid of talkin’ to me, bird. I’ll always listen.” He says into your hair.

That night, after a long week of coldness and anger, the two of you lay sound asleep in each others warm embrace, totally peaceful.

Note: hey guys!!! Hope you enjoyed this one!! Had to add in a little bit of sweetness for you all 🩷🩷 as usual this one is unedited so please forgive any mistakes or lack of cohesiveness, I’m planning on coming back and editing a bunch of stuff eventually. But for now I’m just kinda throwing random things out for fun 😆 anyways, next thing I’ll be bringing out will most probably be stalker!simon, that or trucker!john price. Love you all, xoxo 😘

Simon Riley master list

[tacticalprincess]

ok ok but imagine being simon’s gf and könig just being so infatuated with u :( he likes you so so much, believes you deserve better than simon and just pines after you ^_^

very im on fire of him

könig’s never been one to be discreet about his feelings, especially toward you. he doesn’t owe simon anything, much less loyalty. his crush has become an inside joke amongst the crew, has gotten dirty looks thrown at him by simon too many times to count for being just slightly too touchy to be friendly, too intense in his yearning. tuning in intently whenever you talk, doing small favors for you whenever he gets the chance, asks after you when you’re gone. too close for comfort, oughta get himself in trouble, simon says.

its hard to ignore a stare that burns a hole in the side of your head, weighted like a caress on all the exposed parts of your body. könig gets some sort of satisfaction out of watching you squirm under his intense gaze, eyes trained on you most of the time he’s around, because at least he makes you feel something. he wishes to sliver underneath your skin and infiltrate your thoughts just as you’ve done to him, sending his emotions into haywire just by way of existing. smiling at him so brightly, extending a fraction of the warmth and kindness that comes naturally to you, craves it when he’s alone at night. your boyfriend can’t blame him.

simon’s weird, quiet teammate, helplessly infatuated with you, his too cute, too sweet, too soft girlfriend. could only dream of experiencing the parts of you that are exclusively for simon — wonders how someone like you even ended up with a man like him. looking far too out of place under his tattooed arm, bottom lip tucked between pearly teeth bashfully while he chats to the group of guys in typical boyish manner. the occasional ducks of his head to kiss your forehead when he remembers you’re there is not enough attention showed to such a pretty, doting thing like you, in könig’s humble opinion. it’s not even that he believes he’s better than him, but a selfish part of him would rather you end up in his calloused hands than anyone elses. his mind strays the longer he observes you, imagines all the ways he’d treat you better, take care of you like you deserve. would’ve probably already proposed to you by now given the chance. you might seem happy enough, but that doesn’t stop him from searching for cracks in the polished porcelain. always waiting for a spot to slip in.

he finally gets you alone one night, finds you where you wandered off into price’s basement to fetch more beer. coming behind you to grab the case from your delicate hands like lifting a feather off the ground.

“boyfriend not here to do this for you?”

after you regain your composure from the startle, you scoff, peering up at könig through your lashes. “just thought i’d do something nice for him.”

“sweet. does he always allow you to do a man’s job?” sarcasm bites at his words.

“allow me—?”

“do you think he even noticed your absence, maus?” he presses a bit harder, his face holding the same indifference it always does under his mask, tone flat around his accent. “as i did?”

his eyes search yours for a second, looking for any sign of reciprocation for his feelings, and somehow you can tell he knows you don’t know how to respond. as a show of mercy, he steps to the side to let you squeeze past his frame and up the stairs leading back inside the house, heavy footsteps following slowly behind. he watches as you so easily slip back into simon’s side, how his arm finds its home around your shoulders without effort. concern knits your boyfriend’s eyebrows together as he leans down to peck your lips, never breaking eye contact with könig over your shoulder, a petty display of ownership. he watches.