#timur glazkov

[ojiisan01]

R6 doodle dump ft. @agasmask

[rm14hitman]

Fuze : *screams*

Tachanka : *screams louder to assert dominance*

Glaz : Should we do something ?

Kapkan : No, I want to see who wins

[vampsquerade]

Can I get some Glaz and Kapkan head cannons about the reader learning how to enjoy ice baths?

hi anon, of course i can!! so sorry for taking so long, as much as i wish things were chillin for me behind the scenes they were not. but as always thank you so much for your request!!

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Glaz and Kapkan Headcanons: Ice Baths

Warnings: injury mentions, ice baths, playful taunting and teasing, pretty much SFW c:

Kapkan

♡ Maxim always loves himself a good ice bath whenever he can get one, seeing as how he’s so used to the cold

♡ So once you come to him one day asking him if you could help him set one up after an injury that Gustave had recommended you take a few ice baths alongside your treatments, Maxim was more than happy for you to come to him for it

♡ He helps you by setting it up and recommends you wear something with longer sleeves for your upper body

♡ Maxim teaches you breathing exercises as well, teaching you how to handle the initial cold shock that comes from taking a plunge in freezing water

♡ Literally goes about it the old-fashioned way despite certain pools being created for athletes

♡ Confuses the hell out of everyone when he buys mountains of ice bags just to do this for you

♡ By the time the day comes, you’re practically dreading this whole thing, already shivering the few minutes it takes for the ice bath itself to get down to the level it needed to while also still being safe

♡ “So you’re sure it’s going to be okay for me? Just two minutes for this session and then we’re done?” You ask as you attempt to dip a finger into the water

♡ “Trust me. It won’t be as bad as you think it will be. I’ll help you in, okay?” He says calmly before then gently having you move down into the water

♡ He will then have you sit there and watch you shiver, helping you relax by taking your mind off the cold with conversation

♡ Every single time the timer rings out, he helps you stand up carefully and wraps you up in a thicker than usual towel, wanting to help your body gradually warm up

♡ “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he’ll muse, a smirk on his face as you look at him and frown

Glaz

☆ Timur never expected you to want to use an ice bath

☆ He himself wasn’t one to use them too often but he always did whenever Gustave recommended it for his own injuries

☆ Always tells you he’ll take it slow, knowing you’re not used to a chilling ice bath the way he was

☆ As a very patient man, he was quite the gentleman when it came to it, asking if you’d truly be okay to let him touch you and guide you in

☆ Timur would do the same as Maxim, gently holding onto you and guiding you down

☆ He’d even join you from time to time, telling you how good you were doing

☆ “Control your breaths, make sure they’re slow so you don’t send your body into shock.” he’ll warn

☆ After you step out, he always helps you warm back up by wrapping you in a large towel

☆ As much as physical touch wouldn’t be something he would engage with when it came to warming someone else up, he was more than happy to wrap himself around you

☆ Timur would notice how you would constantly look at him each time that the little ice bath sessions ended, raising a brow

☆ “A warm embrace must really be what you need right now, eh, кролик?” he’ll question, watching the way you’d just nod nervously

☆ He would simply chuckle at you as he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your arms up and down to help you slowly warm back up

[luciifernn]

spetsnaz

[redd956]

Glaz in his native language

[cloangi]

Been a long time since I last posted something related to Siege

(Sorry that it looks bad 😔. It was one of those days where I couldn't draw well 😞🙏)

[l3r40l]

👁️

Dad and I made another polymer figurine!

He sculpted, I painted

Format 1/30  (70 mm)

I hope I will learn how to sculpt like this someday😔

Our previous works:

Azami - Maverick

[tuxedo-hero]

Summoning all the furries in the siege community with werewolf glaz. I care him

[ojiisan01]

The idea of Glaz being a rat by @agasmask

[itsohh]

would glaz still love reader if they were a worm? i bet he would have an interesting response to the question

"Hmm? You want to be a worm for halloween? I didn't know thats a thing you wanted to do."

"No? Not for halloween? If you were turned into one... are you the same size? What type of a worm?"

"An odinary earthworm? Hmm."

"Well, I would bring you to Gustave then carry out hope that one day they could bring you back to me, whole and beautiful as the day I last saw you. Until that hope is gone I would be there waiting. If he or anyone else can't turn you back then I would mourn your loss and always have a piece of my heart dedicated to you."

[luciifernn]

sketching tonight

[chadillacboseman]

Sniper's Nest II

Pairing: Timur "Glaz" Glazkov x Enemy Combatant/Sniper F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of combat/violence, angst, enemies to lovers eventually, but no real pairing in this chapter. Explicit language. Summary: Glaz finally gets the upper hand on the sniper who's had him pinned down. Reader is GN at the moment, no descriptions of build, gender, or race (though reader is mentioned to have a 'pallor' about them from bloodloss.

Word Count: 2.5k

PART ONE

--

The shot hurtled through the hole in the brick and connected with your shoulder. You cried out and dropped to the floor, letting your rifle drop alongside you with a clatter.

"Son of a bitch-" the bullet had gone right through you; blood was blooming onto your fatigues as you scrambled for your med-kit and jammed a length of gauze into the hole with a hiss.

You sat up and edged your way backward, dragging your rifle along with you until you were hidden behind a cabinet.

The bastard had finally wised up. His muzzle flare had come from one floor below and far back into the room.

Fuck.

It just had to be your trigger arm.

You gritted your teeth as you shoved the gauze further into the bullet hole until the blood flow stopped. You needed to get out of there and fast before the other sniper figured out how badly he had injured you.

You reached for your discarded binoculars and peered around the filing cabinet carefully. You activated the night vision and scanned the room one floor below where the soldier had been before.

He was gone.

You let your head loll back against the cold metal and sighed before tossing your binoculars back into your bag. You'd have to wait through the day and into the next nightfall before moving out.

--

Timur peered through his scope and watched for any sign of movement across the street.

Nothing.

He had retreated to the kitchen area of his new post and bunkered down to try and sleep- he hadn't rested in what felt like days, waiting for the other sniper to make a move. The sun was beginning to paint the faded wallpaper in the apartment in a bloody orange glow and he knew dawn was rapidly approaching.

Timur clutched his mangled hand to his chest and winced as he examined the bloodied bandages. He couldn't even be sure he had hit the other sniper- he had taken a wild potshot on a gamble after seeing the scope flare.

His eyes were so heavy.

"Only for a minute-" he mumbled to himself. He set the timer on his watch and closed his eyes, "Only...a minute."

You changed out the bloodied gauze in your wound and swallowed a half tab of hydrocodone from your trauma pack. The wound ached, spreading a dull pain down your arm and into your chest.

It was now or never.

Your radio had been dead air since day two, and you were betting the other sniper's was as well. You paused to count the windows across the street once more and jotted the floor and number onto the back of your hand.

--

Across the street, Timur twitched in his sleep as the alarm on his watch beeped faintly, jammed under the rucksack in his lap.

For so long, he had been without sleep, that when it finally overtook him, it was deep and uninterrupted.

You sprinted across the street through the darkness, recounting the windows again and again.

If he saw you...

Outside the door to the apartment, you slunk, catlike, and tried the handle. It was unlocked. It seemed too easy- surely he wouldn't have let his guard down this thoroughly.

You turned the handle as quietly as you could and pressed the door open into the pitch black apartment. Your arm throbbed, the dull ache surging down into your fingers that were slowly becoming pins and needles as the hours ticked by.

You flipped your night-vision goggles down over your eyes and with a high-pitched whine they came to life, illuminating the room in green light. To your disbelief, the other sniper was fast asleep, his injured hand pulled close to his chest and his rifle at least three feet away.

You were his enemy, but you weren't a monster- killing him now would be like shooting a man dangling from a parachute. You unsheathed your knife and crept slowly toward him, silent as a predator on the hunt.

If you woke him up and he was quick on his feet, you'd be at a disadvantage- your dominant arm was beginning to feel like a leaden weight, and every movement was agony.

You hovered over him for a moment, still in awe of his ability to sleep so soundly. Cautiously, you tapped his thigh with your boot and he grunted, his face twitching. He muttered something in Russian and you rolled your eyes.

"Wake up," you said it loudly enough that he jolted awake and rolled away from you, scrambling for his sidearm. You were faster, more well-rested, and kicked it from his hand before he had a chance to train the sights on you.

He swore in Russian and reached for his knife, shuffling quickly to put some distance between the two of you. A bright glow stick flared to life in his hands and he tossed it to the floor to illuminate the space.

"Why did you wake me?" he spoke with a heavy Russian accent; his eyes wandered to your bloodied arm and you thought you saw the ghost of a satisfied smirk flit across his features.

"Should I have cut your throat while you slept?"

"Thought that was what your people did," he spat.

"I'm not a savage."

"The Masks aren't known for their mercy," the other soldier began to circle and you did the same, each of you poised to leap if the other made a move.

"Then be glad that rumor isn't true of me," your arm was now entirely numb from the elbow down, and it felt cold and limp as it dangled at your side.

Timur was smart, he knew you weren't in fighting condition- your arm hung like a leaden weight, and your face had a pallor that suggested significant blood loss.

Perhaps this was more like two men dangling from parachutes, knives brandished.

"You're in no shape to fight" Timur gestured at your wounded arm.

Your gaze narrowed, trying to read his expression through his dark eyes, all that peeked out from above his balaclava. The grease paint around them had been smudged in some places and completely wiped off in others.

He had a kind face.

"I'll make you a deal, Russkie," you lowered your blade and he followed suit hesitantly, "we go our separate ways right now. I don't shoot if you don't."

"Will you stab me instead?" Timur asked and you laughed bitterly, nodding to your bloodied fatigues.

"Wouldn't be very effective if I did."

You backed away slowly and he watched you with caution, eyes darting furtively between you and the door.

"Wait-" he cleared his throat awkwardly and you paused, cocking your head to hear what he had to say, "do you have any water?"

"What?"

"...water," he repeated rather stupidly, "mine is gone."

You contemplated for a moment. Your canteen was still half full, but your first aid kit was depleted.

"I do. What's left in your trauma pack?"

Timur turned to fish through his rucksack and pulled a hard metal case from inside. He hadn't even dressed his own wound properly.

But he was so fucking thirsty.

"Couple of rolls of gauze, antibiotics -"

"Antibiotics!" You cut him off a little too eagerly, but you didn't care. Shame wasn't going to kill you, but gangrene would.

Cautiously, he slid the case toward you across the wooden floor, and in exchange, you rolled the canteen in his direction. You knelt and rifled through the contents until you landed on the bottle labeled 'moxifloxacin, 400mg'.

You swallowed a tablet dry and rocked back on your heels as you watched him guzzle the water as if he'd been without for some time.

"What's your name?" He asked when he'd exhausted the water supply.

You told him and he repeated it back, once, twice, and then a third time, his thick accent sometimes stumbling over he consonants.

When he was satisfied with his own pronunciation, he offered you his own, "Timur. But they call me 'Glaz' at Rainbow."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before you spoke again.

"Quite the move you pulled on me, moving units," you nodded to the gaping hole in the exterior wall, "I would have never guessed."

Timur chuckled and gestured to his shredded hand, "How did you do the curtain trick?"

"Some shitty old war movie I watched as a kid, never thought I'd get it to work. Guessing you saw my scope flare?"

He nodded and fell back into a seated position, letting his back rest against the dilapidated fridge, "You're a good shot. You could have had me plenty of times."

"I was having fun," you admitted, suddenly feeling a wave of white hot shame as it zippered down your torso.

"I could tell," Timur didn't sound judgemental, "had you been as reckless as I was, I might have done the same."

There was a pregnant pause as you contemplated whether to depart and return to your own post.

"Has your radio been dead air?" You weren't sure he'd answer truthfully- after all, you'd effectively just revealed that yours had been.

"Since day two."

"Maybe they think we're dead," you offered, and he shrugged.

"Maybe."

"We'll survive a lot longer if we pool our resources," you gestured through the hole in the exterior wall to your post across the street, "I've got more supplies."

"What you're suggesting would have me strung up at Rainbow," Glaz cocked an eyebrow, "and I don't think the White Masks would approve."

"I don't think they're coming for us, friend," you tapped your watch, "by my count, my people moved out over 32 hours ago."

"Quick to call me friend," Timur mused. His eyes were soft as he said it.

"As far as I'm concerned, we're two comrades in a foxhole right now, but it's your loss."

You rose to your feet and retrieved the antibiotics, from the floor, offering him one final glance. He watched you, his still-soft eyes following your every move as you made for the door.

"Have any vodka over there?" Timur asked before you hit the threshold, only half-joking. He could use a swig, or twenty, to ease the pain and take the edge off.

You paused in the doorway and offered him a Cheshire grin.

"No, but the previous tenants did."

--

The streets below were, indeed, deserted, as Timur prowled beside you, eyes flitting from window to window as if expecting an ambush.

"I was the only one posted, so you can relax," you offered.

He said nothing in return.

An uneasy alliance, tiptoeing on the high wire of a promise of cheap vodka in some long-abandoned liquor cabinet. Truly, even the old war movies couldn't dream up something like this.

Your post was in better shape than his had been; the lathe and plaster was mostly intact, but there was a gaping hole in the floor that you could view the apartment below from while in the kitchen.

It was how you'd tricked him with the moving curtain. You showed him the rope rigged up and he chuckled, amused at the simplicity that had almost cost him his life.

The liquor cabinet was in the dining room, a faded old wooden hutch covered in a thick layer of dust. Timur rummaged through it, clinking bottles aside until a small 'aha!' escaped him and he retrieved a bottle bearing an image of the Kremlin and Cyrillic text.

"Good stuff?" You asked and he scoffed.

"No, it's dogshit, but it tastes like home."

"Fair enough," you gestured at the cabinet, "Any tequila in there?"

He rummaged for a moment until he produced a bottle of Patrón; the cork was rotted and the bottle was covered in dust, but it was probably the most expensive thing in there.

Timur passed you the bottle and you uncorked it, cringing at the sharp smell that greeted your nostrils.

"Cheers, comrade," you imitated his Russian accent and he chuckled as he matched your swig with a grimace.

"There it is. Tastes like turnips filtered through misery," Timur set the bottle aside and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"How'd you end up stateside?" You asked before taking another swig.

"Rainbow," he answered simply, "recruited me from the Spetsnaz."

"Spetsnaz? Impressive."

"Not really," he sounded... remorseful? "I joined up after the Beslan Siege. Nothing motivates you like 200 dead kids."

The Beslan School Massacre. You knew of it- enough to know that it had been absolutely botched by the Russian government. It struck you that the people involved probably had similar morals to your own employers. The thought made your stomach churn.

"Your arm-" Timur gestured to your bloodied shoulder, interrupting your train of thought, "How bad is it?"

You shrugged your flak jacket off and revealed the wound. He made a face that was something between disgust and concern.

"It needs to be cleaned properly. Stitched."

You gestured rather awkwardly with your non-dominant hand and he rose to his feet. He rummaged first through his own trauma kit, then yours, until he had collected what he needed.

"Sit," he pointed to the dilapidated armchair on the far side of the room and you acquiesced, slumping into it and sending a small cloud of dust skyward.

Timur pulled his balaclava down under his chin to work and you took in his features in earnest for the first time. He had a sharp, angled nose that sat over stubble that had grown out over the days he'd been holed up in the apartment. His brows were full, set low over his eyes that shone against the dark grease paint smudged around them.

A sharp prick in your skin snatched you away from your analysis as the hooked suture needle pushed into the flesh around the bullet hole.

"Can't believe I hit you," Timur mused.

"I can't believe how heavily you sleep."

He shot you a look and you smirked until the next pass of the needle made you grimace.

You softened your approach.

"How long had it been? Since you slept?"

"Four days."

"I'm sorry," you offered. You weren't sure what else to say.

"Why didn't you kill me back at the apartment? Why wake me?" Timur's voice was level, but there was something hidden behind it, threatening to jump out if he spoke further.

"Why kill a sleeping man? You couldn't defend yourself."

He glanced up into your eyes and you were taken aback by how blue his were. When he spoke, genuine emotion was woven into his voice.

"Thank you."

Timur finished stitching your wound and hit it with a wash of iodine before placing a bandage over the sutures. His knots were irregular, but held firmly when you flexed the muscle.

"Sorry, they're not perfect," he gestured to the now bandaged site, "I only know how to sew."

You chuckled at the thought of him, clothed in his fatigues, hunched over a sewing machine with a rifle at his side.

Exhaustion began to seep in around the corners of your brain as you slumped back into the chair. Your eyelids felt as if they were weighted with lead, and even the gentle throb of your arm couldn't keep you from closing them.

"Sleep," Timur patted your knee gently as he sat back to observe you, "We will figure this out when the sun rises."

So you did.

[r6-birthdays-daily]

Happy birthday to Timur "Glaz" Glazkov!!!! June 2nd, 1987!

Very scrunkly :)

[slamsuckingslut]

r6 spetsnaz head canons (SLIGHT NSFW)

my 4 favorite beefy Russian men... Just little head canons i have about how they look (for tachanka and kapkan mainly, but glaz and fuze included anyway)

CREDIT TO ALL ARTISTS WHOS ART I HAVE USED IN THIS !!

TACHANKA / ALEXSANDR SENAVIEV

He most likely has graying hair, being in his 50s I believe?? Late 40s to early 50s, this man is graying, he's been through a divorce and has like 3 kids i think. His hair is a dark brown/black with gray streaks and roots, his eyebrows having already grayed with bits of black in them still. Very salt and peppered. He definitely isn't all muscle anymore in his older age, having a bit of pudge around his stomach, hips, chest and arms. Pretty much a super fucking muscular dad bod but better cause its our lord. He might have a few stretch marks hidden in the scars from battle on his body, but isn't ashamed if you point them out. I don't see him as the type to have a beard, maybe a mustache if you think about it too hard, but I'd guess clean cut just very stubbly. but LAWD he is most definitely hairy as hell everywhere else if we ignore the animation for his elite skin and how oiled up he looks... hnnggg.... BUT he most def has very hairy legs, some chest hair but not much, gotta show off the tats, and a happy trial. He is most def packing a monster and keeps his pubes slightly trimmed, just enough to be bearable, he's getting older, he cant be bothered to be as smooth shaven as when he was young.

10/10 would chew on him like a teething toy.

KAPKAN / MAXIM BUSADA

love of my life, apple of my eye, can do no wrong, babygirl... Okay so, he's in his late 30s, not so much graying yet but def getting there. He's got dark roots and light brown ends, most likely no beard just very long stubble. 5 o'clock shadow king. He's still quite fit, not as much squish as tachanka but most def still a bit squishable. he might have slight stretch marks around his arms or thighs. HE ALSO IS SO HAIRY. Literal Russian bear, okay?? This man is a hunter, he def stays hairy because quote, "A true hunter can be an animal himself." or some mystical quote about being a true hunter like that. But he's got hairy arms and legs, chest hair and a thick happy trail leading down to barely even trimmed pubes and again an absolute monster schlong. he seems like the type to go all natural with his shaving habits, only trimming it a bit if you ask. He most definitely has lots of scars around his body, and isn't afraid to tell you about them whenever you ask.

11/10, would put him in a jar and shake it around like he was a little bug.

GLAZ / TIMUR GLAZKOV

He's 30, and DAYUM does he look good.. his hair is black, you can tell that be looking at the obvious beard thing he's got. He doesn't seem like he'd be very hairy, being i think the youngest of the 4, he stays pretty clean shaven besides the beard. Not much body hair besides legs, arms, and a thin happy trail leading down to a medium monster and very well trimmed pubes. they aren't completely shaven, but are very short. He seems like he is mostly made of lean muscle, so he isn't the squishiest but is still very soft. I don't think he's really started to get stretch marks yet, but definitely has loads of scars, considers his body a canvas and the scars the art on it that tell the story, and of those stories he will only share a few with you if you ask cause most of them he doesn't really remember how he got either. Considering he's an artist, I like to think that he'll just have mystery stains on him. Like dude, why are your fingers lime green today?? He doesn't know either, he was just simply painting.

10/10, would tape a picture of him to my pillow and hump it. (only jk guys i swear...)

FUZE / SHUHRAT KESSIKBAYEV

My favorite partially mute, weirdly closed off, awkward and most likely autistic bbg. Based off the skin where you can see his face, he is clean shaven but is another 5 o'clock shadow KING. I think he'd either have very light brown hair, or black hair, no in between. He's in his early 30s but is most def getting squishy like tachanka already. he is a big boy guys. He doesn't have the dad bod type squish like tachanka does, maybe more like a bit of a tummy and THICCCKKKKK thighs and bulky arms. He has a few stretch marks, hates them, and also hates most of the scars he has. To him, they are only a reminder that his job involves a lot of pain, some of it permanant.. *cough cough* accidentally cluster charging that hostage *cough cough*.. but he wouldn't mind telling you about a few if you were close enough with him and asked nicely (bribed him while he was drunk). Considering his face is pretty clean shaven, he probably doesn't have much body hair but definitely enough. Hairy legs, arms, a little bit of chest hair and a somewhat thick hair but thin shaped happy trail leading down to a medium but THICK LIKE THE REST OF HIM monster and an absolute mess of pubes. He seems like a lonely man, he's got no real reason to shave em, so why should he?

12/10, is autistic like me, we would go nonverbal together and do some wicked shit like have a staring contest.

[tuxedo-hero]

Okay relationship headcanons because I ship my siege oc (Antti) with Kapkan and Glaz I doubt anyone will read this but if you don’t like oc x canon then uhh don’t read it maybe? Also his experience with queerness is heavily inspired by my experience which is why he deals with a lot of internalized shame and hate but he gets over it with their help

• Maxim and Timur were together before Antti joined rainbow and Antti became friends with the both of them before he knew they were together, engaging in his enjoyment of music and the arts with Timur and going hunting and camping with them whenever they invited him. Originally they hid their relationship from him in fear that he’d disapprove of it and stop hanging out with them as they didn’t know his opinion on lgbt relationships and issues, due to Antti’s homophobic family he tends to be ashamed of his own sexuality and therefore is not vocal about how he feels on the issue. However he knows this is irrational and gets over it in time

• Their relationship is the first one to make Antti less ashamed of his homoromanticism and more open to conversations about lgbt related topics, however they still are not vocal about their relationship due to safety reasons and not knowing how others in rainbow would react to such a relationship

• Antti “officially” started dating them one night after a camping trip where he’d gotten drunk and admitted how ashamed he was of his sexuality, causing Timur and maxim to reassure him and confide about their own relationship to him to comfort him, this leads to them all sharing a conversation in the same tent and later falling asleep leaning against each other, Antti waking up in the morning eventually with Timur curled against him like a needy cat

[itsohh]

Protection From the Sun

A/N: Female reader, had this written up but its taken ages to get the time to edit this.

Day 20: Exhibitionism and voyeurism

Word count: 1040

Warnings: smut

AO3 Kinktober Masterlist

Waves of heat beamed down. It was hot, really hot. Even at the beginning of summer, the heat was almost unbearable. If it hadn't been for the cool pool water around you, you were sure you would have died. Crystal clear, you could see the blue-tiled bottom of the massive pool. The coolness that covered your skin was orgasmic. Perfect for the heat. A relaxed smile was content on your face when you surfaced from the water, mentally you made it your goal to thank Meghan again for letting you both borrow her holiday house. 

You shook your head slightly and flicked the water from your hair. In front of you displayed your lover. Timur was relaxed out on a sun lounger. He wore a pair of trunks, sunglasses and jandles. The sunglasses were blacked out so you couldn't tell what he was actually looking at. In his hand was a book and his head was aimed towards it. All his body said so, the way his ankles crossed over each other, the way his head tilted to the side. Perfectly covered by the umbrella above him, he was content. Yet, you could have sworn you felt his eyes on you. 

A deep stare that you felt, a sixth sense that was never wrong. Your eyes roamed over him for a moment before you turned in the opposite direction and treaded over to the ladder. The two piece you wore left little to the imagination when you pulled yourself out of the pool and headed over to your own sun lounger. It mirrored Timurs perfectly. On the side table you had a number of things such as your phone and sunglasses but what you picked up was a bottle of sunscreen. 

The sun lounger made a small squeak when you sat down on it and you squirted a decent amount onto your hand before you started rubbing it into your skin. First, you started with your right leg, it was pulled up to your chest as you focused on your shin, ankle and foot. 

Your eyes glanced up for a moment and you swore Timurs had moved ever so slightly. It was lifted just a little bit making it harder to look at the book in front of him. His head moved ever so slightly when your leg slipped down and your hands glided up to your thigh higher. Slowly your legs parted and your hand slipped down the inside of your thigh where you massaged the sunscreen into your wet skin. 

Back and forth your hand ran, kneading and massaging your thigh. So easy would it have been for you to dip beneath your bottoms. Your thumb toyed at the edge of it and your eyes flashed up to see Timur's head roll to the side slightly. No longer did he bother to look at the book. It lay open on his lap while he stared directly at you, watching. 

You didn't dip down to touch your excitable cunt.  Instead, you poured a little bit more sunscreen onto your hand and started to rub it on your arm. Up onto your shoulder you continued, eyes on your hand's location. Just like Timur's eyes were. Down over your chest you rubbed until you paused. Your other hand went behind your back and with the pull of two strings you untied the top. With both hands, you massaged the sunscreen into your now bare breasts. Your thumbs rubbed over your nipples as you continued to palm your breasts far longer than needed to rub the sunscreen in. 

Unable to take it, your hips rolled ever so slightly for friction on the lounger while you continued to knead your breasts together in circles. Across from your Timur's cock had made itself known and he had one hand on top of it while it firmly rest on the side of this thigh. He didn't have it out, only casually rubbing the tip through his fabric. 

A small moan left your lips when you let go of one of your breasts and started to circle your clit through the thin wet fabric of your bottoms. You didn't last like that for long, you gript your breast tight and pinchrd it whirl your fingers dipped in. 

Not content with your clit, you stuffed your fingers into your cunt and curled them in exactly the perfect spot for you to grace that sweet spot inside. Lost in the pleasure that your touch brought, your eyes squeezed shut and you uncurled and curled your fingers back and forth. 

You knew it wouldn't be enough though, it was never enough. Without him inside, you never could reach that peak alone. Yet when you opened your eyes to glance at him, you knew right away he was enjoying the show and had no intentions of joining you at that moment. His head rested back and his book had been snapped shut. It was on the side table next to him. Timur had fished his cock out and gript it rather casually while he pumped it. 

You spread your legs as much as you could and pulled your bottoms to the side to show off your cunt. In full display, you knew that his keen eyesight would be able to see. No longer touching that sweet spot inside of you, you returned back to your clit and rubbed it. 

You made no attempt to stifle the moans that left your mouth as the pleasure started to build up. A small wave that grew more and more, a pressure in your core that had you rocking your hips, rolling them into the chair just as you wished you could do on Timur's cock. The thought alone had you mewing out his name as you continued to chase that wave. 

You pinched your nipped hard and pulled on it as that wave came crashing about sending pleasure throughout your body. A calming sensation that had you lie back on the lounger and thread a hand through your hair. When your eyes opened you were met with Timur's smile. Cock still in hand he leaned forward towards you and used two fingers and wiggled them back and forth. He was summoning you over.