pillowtalk6

[pillowtalk6]

Kyle believes its mandatory to say "biiiiig stretch," whenever his dog stretches.

It becomes so much of a habit that whenever you stretch yourself out in the morning he croons, "biiiiiig stretch." Sometimes laughing lightly as he's already getting dressed, sometimes still half asleep face buried against his pillow. Didnt matter the state, he just alway did.

And when your back is arching off the bed — your nails are clawing at his shoulders, weak whines and pleas spilling past your lips at the stretch of his cock pushing inside of you — his big hand is cupping your cheek.

Smiling down at you so sweetly as if his eyes aren't staring with pure hunger. And oh, his voice is so mean when he hums a, "biiiiig stretch."

[pillowtalk6]

pookie...jason todd just eating you out like a man starved and just maintaining eye contact with you ᕙ⁠(⁠ ͡⁠◉⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠◉⁠)⁠ᕗ

MDNI 18+

— munch! jason todd

jason had a lot of pent up frustration in him, and the best way to take it out? on your poor cunt.

his nails dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as his tongue lapped your slick puffy fold, your toes curling with each move which only fuelled him more

“come on baby,” he murmured, peppering wet sloppy kisses on your cunt, “you can take it.”

and one thing about jason, is that he was a man who admired his work, which meant that his gaze never left yours when he was down on his knees.

he would study each moan, where to make you arch your back and claw the sheets, examining your unsteady breaths as you cried from sheer pleasure.

he would smirk at the way your cheeks flushed when he caught you staring, knowing just how to rile you up.

his lips glistened with your arousal as you tugged his hair, his nose bridge rubbing against your clit. “jay,” you cried as you tried to pull back, but he held you firmly, pulling you closer.

“doin’ so well,” he groaned, drunk by both the taste and smell of your arousal. “and you look so damn good too.”

his ego swelled watching you turn into a hot mess with his tongue, the way your eyes rolled back and a sheen of sweat covering your body as you trembled from another orgasm, the sight was just too addicting.

[pillowtalk6]

husband!simon who tails wife!reader like a lamb. wherever she is, he isn't too far behind.

he follows you everywhere. you thought riley (your german shepherd) was bad? wait until your very-grown, very-large, very-masculine husband starts doing it.

it's like having your own personal pair of bodyguards, one of which is an animal, but we digress. you can't even take a peaceful walk (with the dog) without getting funny stares... but who is there to blame? if looks could kill, simon would be in prison for mass murder. it's not his fault he has a magnetism to his pretty wife and a serious case of resting bitch face.

he slowly walks behind you when you're shopping, his fingers itching to reach out for your lower back. he sticks to staying as close to you as he can, like a kid who's afraid to lose their parent if they stray away for longer than a few seconds.

if there's something on a higher shelf you can't reach, he towers over your form and picks it up for you, tossing the item into the basket on your arm and flashing a shy, boyish smile.

ass.

he also sleeps super close to you at night, tattooed arms pulling you tight to his body, legs tangling with yours. when you're annoyed at him, you simply press the cold balls of your feet against the backs of his calves. the shriek he let out was far more high-pitch than his normal tone, and you swore you nearly wet yourself laughing as he shimmied away from your frozen toes.

he knew not to piss you off like that again.

he does respect your personal space when you need it - it's obvious. but that doesn't stop the man from watching you under sunken eyebrows as you huff and strop around the kitchen. he's waiting for the inevitable help me, please as you discover you actually can't open your own jar of pasta sauce. you finally give in and whine, holding the glass jar out to your more-than-amused husband.

even when you're on a night out and you drunkenly force him to dance with you, his hands find themselves in the back pocket of your jeans, grabbing at your asscheeks as you sway against him. he keeps an eye (or a cheeky hand) on you all the time, the protective bastard.

his personal favourite is your distant, "si, i'm going for a shower!" from upstairs, or even if he simply hears the water starting up, he's pausing his football match on the tv and taking the stairs two at a time to locate you in your shared bathroom, leaning over the sink in your undergarments as you get ready to shower.

"what are you doing?" you ask, watching him through the mirror as he starts unbuckling his belt and sliding it from his jeans.

"what does it look like?" he says gruffly, but you know he's being sarcastic. "showering." that call was practically an invitation.

"i'm showering."

"no can do, love," he reaches out for your elbows and gently pulls your half-naked form against his own. "lemme join you. i can wash your hair."

"really?" you watch him incredulously, an amused smile dancing on your lips.

"what can i say? manchester's a shitty team."

you smacked him.

author's note: let's not talk about my obsession with husband!simon, deal??

[pillowtalk6]

Smooch // James Hook.

Captain James Hook x gn!reader.

Summary: give the old man some kisses after work.

Fluff.

"Idiots, all of them!" Hook entered his cabin, slamming the door behind him, gentle steps following his inside.

"I must say I'm also a little disappointed in the crew today, capt'n." The ever gentle Mister Smee spoke with a soft tone as the captain groaned in frustration.

"A little!? After all the trouble they made! After all the work I had to do because they're too lazy!— too stupid!—" The taller man snaps. The older one just nods with head and takes his Captain's coat off for him.

"What have I told you, James? No screaming past midnight." Your voice called from the bathroom with a patient yet firm tone. The captain turned his head around, his eyebrows still furrowed.

You smiled at him as you walked out of the bathroom, smelling fresh and looking like a brand new doll in your night clothes.

Those forget-me-not eyes went up and down, admiring your beauty. A deep yet still annoyed sigh leaves the Captain.

"I apologize, my darling." James spoke with a hint of sternness, you nodded, accepting his apology, you kissed his cheek before walking past him.

"You can go to sleep now, Smee. I'll deal with James." You whispered to the older man. He chuckled and made a quiet leave.

"What happened now, dearest?" You asked calmly as you prepared a cup of tea for him, the Captain sighed once more.

"What didn't happen now, love?" The pirate mumbled. You eyed him as you heard the 'pop' of an alcohol bottle. Hook rolled his eyes but closed the bottle back. How he hates himself for being so weak to your gaze.

"As much as I love our nightly chatter— the events of today were far too much for me to want to relieve it again. I am tired, beloved." James spoke a little more calm now. You nodded slowly in understanding, leaving the warm cup of tea on his desk.

You smiled softly as his lips placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his mustache tickling you and making you giggle softly.

"I would go insane without you here, my love. I truly mean it." He whispers to you before sitting down. As the routine goes you take a seat on his lap, he meets your gaze.

"Oh, my darling. I don't think It would be pleasant to be near me, I must stink of sweat." The pirate mumbled as his hooked arm wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer.

"After all these years a little sweat doesn't bother me, James." You speak softly, the Captain's lips curled into a faint smile. His fingers curled against the handle of the mug. He takes a couple of sips of the tea, a soft relived sigh leaves him.

His fingers, used to fidgeting with his cigar can't stay still for long after he places the cup down, he finds himself playing with one of the ribbons of your clothing.

You looked at him, his tired eyes looking down as his fingers played, he looked almost domestic. You couldn't help yourself, you never can. Your soft lips meet his stubbled cheek.

The captain hummed softly and looked at you.

"Hm? What was that for, love?" James asks with a soft whisper. You leaned again and kissed his lips gently, a sleepy smile creeping on his lips before you placed another smooch on them.

"Just because. Can't I kiss my husband?" You asked with a tender whisper against his lips. He chuckled softly. Your hands cup his face and the pirate leaned on your touch.

"You can, always." He mumbled back. Soft kisses were placed along his cheek, then his forehead, he could feel his cheeks warming up more and more as each kiss was pressed.

"So much pampering." The pirate whispered with a slightly slurry voice as the exhaustion was getting to him.

"Dotting on you is my favorite activity." You whispered back with a smile.

"It's mine too, my sweet." He mumbled sleepy as your lips kept traveling along his face.

Hook closed his eyes, melting against your kisses that didn't seem to stop any time soon.

A/N: HEYYYYYY, I missed my baby girl so much I had to write something for him. Hope you like it! I'm opening requests for Hook! (Gn and male reader only!) I'm trying to write more but besides being a little blocked I'm really focused on my studies so thank you for waiting! (Divider here)

[pillowtalk6]

Toji being thee worst at overstim (in the best way possible) stay with me

He just loves to see you and your sore cunt cry :(

I mean the man just lives for it.

it’s the reason he why he’ll go two weeks or even a month, just finger fucking you, letting you reach for his painfully had dick and he’ll smack your hand away. “Nooo baby, just this for now.” He’ll build you up, won’t let you touch yourself either, till he knows you’ll be as sensitive and needy as ever.

A complete menace to you, suck and eat at you like you’re his last meal on earth, till you’re choking him with your thighs and your legs shaking and he’ll groan against you. How you pull at his messy hair and beg him to stop, ‘give me what I really want.’ Smack your ass the kindest ‘no.’ But you’ll get it tonight, Just after he swirls his tongue in your hole which only makes you drip more. And then to top it off, he’ll suck your pulsing clit, let it roll on his tongue till your drenching his face in your cum.

He’ll finally come up from inbetween your legs, face drenched in your slick, panting, fingers unresting and playing with your pussy, “Good fuckin work mama, let’s do it one more time.”

But it’s never one more time.

Not the way he jackhammers into you, slams his tip into your spongy g-spot till a creamy ring is forming on his veiny dick. He loves the way you keen his name, ‘Fuck you Toji, fuck, fuck— fuuuck!’ And it’s music to his ears. The older man will manhandle you each and every way imaginable, gets your legs over your head while he pistons in and out of your velvety walls. And he spanks clit, your back arches off the bed as your gasp, sobbing, “Toji! I can’t-“

“—Heh- You’ve been begging me all damn week, yes you can. Give it to me baby, make a fuckin mess.” And he’s sure the spank it again and again, till you’re squirting like a fountain. And something in his brain itches from seeing you so lost in pleasure. And he makes sure you don’t stop squirting. Juices flying on his abs, your eyes squeezed shut, as you try to grab his hand to stop, but you’re still shaking, unconsciously bucking your hips into his.

Fucking little slut, you love this shit.

Toji doesn’t mind letting you climb up the bed and settling you back down on his dick. Or following you till your both gripping the headboard for dear life as he rails into you, pushing your curls to the side of your face to bite down on your shoulder, too lost in pleasure of your warm soaking cunt. And it’s all too much, you clamp down around him, pulsing as you cum and hard. Wetting Tojis thighs and the pillowcases. Almost passing out and falling over but Toji catches you against his chest.

He coats your walls cums in you deep and making sure it stays in there, his voice ragged,

“There you go doll, look so fuckin sexy like this.”

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[pillowtalk6]

got drunk last night and i could NOT stop thinking about dad bf!price taking care of his drunk gf 🫦

cw: 18+ mdni, daddy kink (only twice), dad bf!price, drunk!reader, caretaker!John, fluff, pet names.

Did Price wait for you to come back, even though it was nearing 3 am? Course he did, he always did. Just in case you called and needed a pick up and to make sure you made it home before curfew. You always did.

Price taught you right, to the point you pick up his traits— even if that did mean making sure everyone got home and in their homes safely and you were the last one getting home in that split uber.

How you did it?

John doesn’t know. He does know for a fact that you were black out drunk even if it didn’t look like it. You walked fine, talked (almost) perfectly as you got yourself in the house just fine. The way you slurred and dragged out his last name, that silly smile you had on your face when you said it, poor girl, wouldn’t remember a fucking thing in the morning.

“Priiiiice,” you groaned from the couch, limps sprawled out, eyes just barley closed, “I can get up myself! ‘M a big girl.”

“ ‘S that right?” The end of his lip curves up, eyes softening at the silly state of you.

“Mhmm,” you hum, using your knees as leverage as you slowly get up. He’s already in your space, ready to catch you when you fall over. But you don’t, just give hits shoulder a playful nudge. “I’m good, see?”

It’s when you trip trying to go past him, he catches you. Knowing better than to let you go so far.

“Gonna let Daddy help you luv?” Hes asking, but he’s already scooped you up in his arms, wrapped your arm around his neck, taking you up the steps.

You scuff, cuddling into his neck, “Juuuust this once.”

“Juuust this once.” He repeats, planting a kiss on your forehead.

John sets you down on the sink of your shared bathroom. He started the bath, running warm water and the bubbles you like. Asking about your night, and what kind of trouble you got into.

“We drunk and we danced and we danced and we drunk. And then Marina- ugh—” you say as John takes off your shoes and socks.

“What about ‘er?”

“Her dumb ass-“

“—Language.”

“—Her dumb self—“ you corrected, “invited her boyyyfriend. Why are you inviting heterosexual men to the girls night? It’s a night for the girls!” You griped, trying to get out of your top. But foolishly, you get stuck.

John can’t help but chuckle as he watches you try and get out, “I’m sure your friend thought it would be a good idea. ‘Nd Take your time sweetheart, no rush.” He helps though, tugging the shirt and tossing it into the laundry bin. But he sees the pout on your lips.

“What’s that face for?”

“I can take care ‘f m’self. I don’t need help.” You insist.

“What’s up with all this fighten, hm?” He asks, standing between your legs, his hands rubbing your bare thighs.

“You go on ‘nd on all day about me not bein here and this one time I need to take care ‘f you-“ you cut him off with an obnoxious yawn that suprises not only Price, but you. immediately covering your mouth, giving the older man a muffled, ‘sorry, Daddy.’

And he hums in understanding, you’re just tired is all. Fighting sleep, exhausted from the night. You had such a love hate relationship with being babied— no— being taken care of. Letting this large older man do the work for you. But it’s all a process, letting him and giving him all your trust.

He doesn’t mind taking his time.

He holds your face in his hand, titling your chin upward and pecking your lips. He coax’s, “Come on dove, just for a little. Gonna wash you up and then we can sleep for however long you like.”

“Promise?” You tilt your head to the side, so fucking cute.

“Promise.” Sortve. You’d be drinking down some medicine and water first but then to sleep, just like you wanted. You two would get to that battle when you were ready for it.

The night goes mostly smooth after that, a peaceful bath with more conversation about your night, John watches the videos you took and sends them to himself, you do fight him on the water, knocking back the pills dry and trying to run into bed. But you drink the water one way or another.

He pats your back to sleep, mumbling sweet nothings about how well you did and how good of a girl you are.

a/n: this popped up right as I just watched a tiktok about how some ppl get black out drunk but it doesn’t show. They act ridiculously sober and thought it would be cute.

most recent

[pillowtalk6]

sugar daddy

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: posted this on my dc blog before i deleted the entire blog so i’m reposting it here WARNINGS: established relationship | daddy kink | size difference | impact play: ass smack.

Unsure of how you’d earned it, BRUCE WAYNE took you on a shopping trip. All day you’d been dragging him around, letting him pay for your bags upon bags of items with his shiny black card. You can’t help it, staring up at him with those doe eyes he knows so well, it brings a proud curl to his lips. He knows what’s earned, he can read it on your flirtatious body language. How you sway your hips in front of him, eyeing him over your shoulder with the tip of your fingernail wedged between your teeth. Nails he paid for.

“Happy?” he remarks, and you nod with a coy grin.

“Mhm.” you hum in affirmation. “Thanks, Daddy.” you emphasize the nickname, proving to him you’re doing this to mess with him. The thought process appears in his eyes, and a competitive allure blooms within them. To reward you for your behavior, his massive hand swings out to swat your little ass. You squeak, and scold him with a look of disbelief in his direction. He pays it no mind, paying for all of the product you picked out.

On the way out, he clasps your hand in his, nearly enveloping it. A breeze from the open door slips through your legs, and you realize how people must be able to see the red flash of your panties right now. You wiggle your hips as you tug the hemline of your little dress back down.

You feel a chastising squeeze to your hand. “Don’t fidget.”

“Can’t help it, Daddy, you rode my dress up.”

[pillowtalk6]

vacation!BRUCE WAYNE can’t stop fucking you<3

cw: NSFW 18+ MDNI !! f!reader, vaginal sex, raw sex, fingering (like for a sec tbh), creampie

wc: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble btw)

After a long day at the beach, you’re all sun-woozy- your body exhausted from the heat, limbs following your brain’s commands a liiittle too slowly. You’re sprawled out on the bed, the sound of the AC blowing almost lulling you to sleep.

You hear the shower turn off and make a mental note to yourself that you'll have to get up soon to shower next, once Bruce finishes up. See, he called dibs on the first shower, so you chose to lie on a clean towel on the bed, a hand over your eyes to block the late afternoon sun.

The bathroom door creaks open. You raise your arm slightly, blinking slowly up at Bruce “S'my turn?” you mumble, half asleep, and Bruce actually grins at you. He runs a hand through his wet hair, droplets falling everywhere, and you soak the sight up.

This man needed a vacation so badly. You were pretty sure you’ve never seen Bruce Wayne smiling so much in your life. And all it took was a little time off. Well, and fucking your brains out every change he got, apparently.

Still, it's safe to say that he was enjoying the getaway, and your heart clenches at how happy and relaxed he looks.

“Your turn.” he nods in reply, walking over to his suitcase with only a towel hanging over his waist, and you’re not tired enough so as not to peak at his ass when he walks by.

He glances back just in time to catch you staring, and chuckles under his breath when he turns to grab a pair of briefs from his bag, “Will I have to carry you there?”

You clear your throat and look away, slightly sheepish about being caught, and groan, stretching your arms above your head, “I’ll manage.. I think.”

You swear you only close your eyes for a second, but when you feel the bed dip next to you, and open them again, Bruce is already beside you wearing briefs and a white sleeveless shirt.

He smiles softly “Sorry, baby. Let me take this towel away, and you can sleep on the bed.” he says gently, tugging at the edge of the towel beneath you. You grab his forearm, shaking your head “No, no. I’ll go.” you murmur, eyelashes still feeling quite heavy. You felt as if you could still feel the heat of the sun wrapped around you like a blanket.

Bruce reaches for your jaw, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek softly, and he leans in to kiss you, almost as if he can’t help himself.

You hum into the kiss, your fingers automatically running through his hair as you lick across his bottom lip, making him groan lowly. You smirk when you pull away, and he licks his lips, leaning down again to kiss against the side of your mouth, “You’re salty.”

You gasp out a laugh, and push him away half-heartedly as you go to stand up, “Alright, you just convinced me to get a move on.”

“Now, wait a minute.” he chuckles, catching you by the waist and pulling you back down “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” he rubs his nose against yours and presses another kiss on your lips, making you sigh out “Bruce..”

He hums and slides his tongue against yours, pulling back with a lewd pop, “I can’t help myself around you, you know that?” he rasps against your neck, licking across your skin, and you tremble, your legs crossing over his waist in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Good. I can’t either.” you confess softly, your fingers still running through his black locks.

He groans, pressing another slow kiss on your lips, hand untying your bikini from your neck and pulling the cups down to reveal your pretty tits.

He pulls back to gaze down at your chest, and you expect his eyes to darken, but Bruce looks at your chest and barks out a laugh.

You still, jaw dropping “Excuse you-”

“I’m sorry baby, there’s some seaweed on you. Here let me-” 

You look down, and sure enough, your tits are covered in sand, with small pieces of seaweed clinging to your skin. You bury your face in your hands and groan. “Oh my God. How does it get everywhere?” you hear Bruce laugh as you feel him slowly peel the pieces of seaweed off you before flicking them off to the side.

You peek between your fingers to look at him. He’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the sides in the way you love, but he’s still fully concentrated on the task at hand. Biting back a lovesick smile, you wiggle your hips a bit, “And my bottoms are still on. Wanna bet on what else I'm going to find down there once I get in the shower?”

“Probably my cum dripping down your thighs.” Bruce deadpans, and your eyes widen.

He had such a way with words.

“Don’t look at me like that. You said it like I’m going to let you go anywhere before fucking you at least once.”

“Bruce!” you laugh, “I’m all salty and gross. I have sand everywhere and apparently- I’m growing a fucking kelp forest on my tits so-” you dust your chest with your hands, palms feeling prickly from the sand on your skin, and it flies around you, falling on clean sheets. You blink up at Bruce, half expecting him to be mad about the mess, but he’s too entranced by the soft bounce of your tits to care.

He licks his lips and shrugs, “Already told you,” he bends down to press his mouth over your nipple, and you gasp, arching your back and digging your nails in his arms. “Salty’s good.” he mumbles, giving you a wink before diving on to your other nipple.

You gasp, pulling at his hair softly, but you still find enough snark in you to mess with him some more, “So is that your final answer?”

He looks up at you, quirking an eyebrow in question, nipple still in his mouth.

“The bet.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, yet his lips tug up, “It is. Actually, I'm already sure that I'll win it.”

You scoff, smiling down at him, “Oh, really. How sure?”

Bruce pulls away from your chest with a lewd pop, and his eyes trace over your features, noting the glazed look in your eyes, the way you bite your lip right then, just from him looking at you.

He tongues at his cheek and grins, “Pretty sure.”

With that, he resumes pressing kisses all over your chest, moving down to your belly, “You’re so fucking beautiful, even with sand all over you. I’ve been dying to fuck you ever since we stepped foot outside this hotel room this morning, you know that? With that flimsy little swimsuit, how could I not?”

“Fuck.” you whimper, your eyes rolling back when he thumbs at your clit over your bikini bottoms, “Is that why you were scowling at me at the beach? Did you want to fuck me then too, baby?”

He groans, nodding along, “So much.” he plants a slow kiss on your lips before pulling back and sitting back on his heels. His eyes were half-lidded, as he stared at the outline of your pussy over your bikini. He kept teasing your clit with his thumb, rubbing up and down, then suddenly pressing in on it just a liittle too hard before rubbing again. It had you circling your hips back against him.

“Fucking look at you.”

Bruce lays a soft slap on the side of your thigh, and you moan softly, “Jus’ put it in baby, c’mon. Need it so bad.”

Bruce hums, pulling his briefs down and rubbing his palm over the head of his cock, before sliding it down to the base to hold it. He shimmies just a tad closer to you and presses the head against your pussy over your bikini.

You whine, feeling him press against you, and he hisses, pushing the head deeper and seeing the material dip only slightly, refusing him entry.

“Don’t tease.” you mumble,

He chuckles lowly, pushing his cock just a tad higher, nudging at your clit, and you whine “Bruuce,”

“Could play with this pussy forever, baby.” he murmurs and bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing as he grabs your bottoms and pulls them to the side. He groans low in his throat when he sees that you're dripping for him. “God- damn. You’re-”

“Soaked? ‘S cause I was thinking about you too. Wanted to see if you’d snap, drag me further down the beach just to fuck me right there, where anyone could see.” 

Bruce’s eyes flash and his gaze snaps up to yours, jaw popping. He snarls, grabbing your jaw, his thumb and pointer finger digging into your cheeks as he leans closer, “Maybe I should just fill this smart fucking mouth instead of fucking you, huh? Bet you’d still get off on that.” he grits out, and you whimper, rolling your hips so that the head of his cock now bumps against your bare pussy.

“No, no, please. Need you in my pussy.” your voice is tantalizing, borderline sinful, and his eyes flutter, a shiver running down his back, “No one sees you like this, except for me.” he says against the side of your mouth, and you pant, nodding multiple times.

He snakes his hand down your body, rubbing two fingers over your pussy lips, before slowly pushing them inside your cunt. “Yess..” you hiss, throwing your head back, and Bruce leans down to press various kisses along the shape of your throat. The thumb that was rubbing against your cheek, now tugs at your bottom lip softly.

He pushes his fingers in your cunt two, three times, before curling them and biting softly at the skin just above your collarbone, “Say it.”

You whimper, “No one. No one, only you-!”

Bruce pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in you without warning. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as he fills you completely, his hand letting go of your jaw just to hold your throat, not tight though, never too tight.

He moans, feeling your warm, tight little pussy hug his cock immediately. His hips push forward even though he’s already filled you to the brim, and you whine, “Too much-”

“You can take it.” He huffs, pulling back just for a second to take his shirt off, before latching on you again, hands around your throat and tits, “You always do,” he mutters, before starting his unrelenting pace.

He wasn’t fast this time, no. He went slow, and hard, making sure you felt every fucking inch, every vein of his cock inside your pussy,  every time you felt like he’d bottomed out, he’d push just a liiittle more, his balls slapping against your ass, and you’d moan brokenly, your nails digging into his shoulders and making him hiss with every thrust.

Your hands clutch at the sheets on your sides when he leans back, using the string of your bikini top still around your middle as an anchor, holding it tightly in his fist, hips rolling against your repeatedly. He stares at you hungrily, mouth open and panting as his eyes roam up and down your body.

He was so fucking good to you, but you needed more, you need it harder, so you slap a hand against his ass, your nails digging in his skin as you pull him closer against you, pushing your hips back to meet his own.

His dark chuckle turns into a filthy moan, his head dropping back at the feel of your pussy tightening up around him, “Greedy fucking cunt. Look how she’s sucking me in honey, can barely pull out.” You lean up against your elbows, wanting to watch how your pussy takes him in, how it chases him when he pulls out.

You nod, entranced by the way your pussy stretches around his thick cock, “It’s cause you’re so good to me.” you mumble, “So fucking good, Bruce.”

You look up at him just in time to watch his Adam’s apple bob, and he looks down at you as well, half-lidded eyes dancing across your own. “Yeah?” he moans lowly, and it’s borderline pornographic.

And just when you thought you could cum just like this, just from seeing him so disheveled because of you, he drops his hand flat on your lower belly, thumb dropping on your clit to rub over it, and you tense immediately, hand dropping to claw at his forearm “Bruce-”

He snarls out your name, “Fucking cum for me.” his eyes drink in the way your hips jump, body twisting as you heave, and yet you still roll your hips against him, still push back when he pulls out.

Bruce picks up the pace, chasing after your orgasm like a man starved, and he leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your mouth. You thought you were kissing him back, but you were just panting and moaning against him while he soaked every sound up.

He pinches your clit suddenly, timing a hard thrust perfectly, and he stays there, pushing impossibly closer to you yet again. Your body goes taut immediately, and then the shaking begins. Your thighs tremble around his waist, your vision goes white, ears start to ring, and you can just about hear Bruce moaning and spitting out praises above you.

Pretty fucking girl. So fucking hot for me, shit. Cum for me, you can do it, I know you can. Thaaat’s it, that’s fucking it. Soaking my cock so well, baby. 

<3

“-etheart, you with me?”

Your eyelashes flutter, as you blink, letting out a satisfied whimper. You feel Bruce's hand pat your cheek softly, and you open your eyes to find him staring down at you, sweat dripping down his temple. He smiles, a dimple showing “Hey.”

You smile too, can't really help yourself, “Mm. You almost fucked me to death.” you mumble out, and he lets out a strained chuckle. “Wouldn't want that.”

It doesn't take you long to realize that he's still inside of you, still hard as a rock.

You mewl, instantly clumping down on him, and he grits his teeth, “Baby. You don't have to, you're tired-”

With a newfound strength, you prop yourself against the palm of your hands, and push Bruce back so that you're the one above him, straddling his thick thighs, his cock still snug inside you.

His hands immediately find purchase on your hips, and he squeezes your flesh in his hands appreciatively.

“I want it, I want you.” you mumble against his temple, after licking the sweat dripping down, and you can feel Bruce shiver under you, muttering a small “Fuck.”

Bruce doesn’t swear often, his patience keeping him from losing his cool, and seeing him lose it with you, gave you an extreme sense of satisfaction.

You wrap your hands around his neck, your tits getting squished against his pecs, when you tug him closer, and Bruce rubs his nose against yours, closing the gap between you.

You hum against his mouth, slowly starting to lift and lower your hips on his cock, and Bruce’s hands run up and down your back, later coming down to squeeze your ass to help guide you against him.

“You look so beautiful.” he pants against you, and one hand comes up to grab at your neck from behind, bracing you as he steals another kiss from your lips, this one deeper, more sensual. “As do you.” You whisper against spit-covered lips, your fingers threading through his hair. 

The rolling of your hips turns more aggressive, and after a while you’re practically bouncing on his cock, both you and Bruce moaning in harmony, both of you looking at where you’re joined, your cunt practically milking his cock, and the lewd squelching sound of you coming down on his cock spurs you on.

“Sweetheart go harder-”  Bruce trails off, his eyes rolling back when you reach down to cup his balls in your palm, squeezing softly.

“Like this? You ask breathlessly, your own eyes almost closing, but you force yourself to keep them open, to watch him fall apart beneath you, because of you.

“Yesss..” he grits through his teeth, pushing his hips upwards to meet your relentless pace eagerly. He grabs at your ass to lift you even higher, and now has to practically chase your pussy each time he thrusts up, but at least he successfully managed to shove his face against your tits. 

His groans and grunts, all while trailing open-mouthed kisses all over your chest.

The moment Bruce buries his head against your neck and lets out a whimper low in his throat, you know that he’s just about to go over the edge.

You can't keep control of your voice now either, moaning every time the head of his cock nudges deeper and deeper inside you “Cum for me, baby, please. Want it inside, dripping out of me like you promised.”

 “Will you do that for me, Bruce?”

He pants harshly, his breath hot against your collarbone as he grabs your hip and pushes you down, his left hand keeping your leg up with a hand on the back of your thigh, pushing it against your chest. He braces his right leg up and resumes the pace you’d set with bruising thrusts against your pretty cunt. “Anything. Fu- fuck. I’ll do anything you want.”

You almost sob, as this angle allows him to reach deeper inside you, and Bruce notices, “You’re gonna cum again.” he declares breathlessly, and you shake your head, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks “I can’t, I can’tttt-”

“You can.” he grits out, “Pussy’s pulsing around me like crazy, baby. You will.”

“Please.. Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Fuck- sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum. Gonna cum for you, gonna give you everything.”

“Yes, yes fffucking cum inside me, need it so bad, I need it sooo badd.” you’re a blabbering mess, your voice cracking every time Bruce thrusts back inside you, and he’s no better. 

He’s groaning, his eyebrows pinched together and his hand clutching your waist like his life depends on it, and he only lets you go to rub tight circles on your swollen little clit, watching you writhe and twitch against him once more. 

You scream, throwing your head back over the edge of the bed, and Bruce follows right behind, thrusting two-three more times before pushing his hips taut against you and staying there, all while letting out the hottest moans you’ve ever heard in your life as he cums inside of you “Take it, take every single drop.” he mutters, his eyes dropping to watch your cunt take everything he’s got, his finger still drawing lazy circles on your clit, making you whine.

“S too much-”

There’s a white ring decorating the base of his cock when Bruce pulls out slowly, and it makes his jaw tick, makes him want to bend you over and give you more of him.

You mewl when you feel him slip out, and mumble something that Bruce can’t make out. 

When you open your eyes after what feels like hours, Bruce is looking at you with pure adoration in his face, a sheepish pussy-drunk grin to match his gaze, and you make a mental note right then and there to force him to go on vacations more often.

(also yeah, he won that 'bet')

2025 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[pillowtalk6]

reading your meanie!simon and meanie!gaz makes me realize there’s a hole in my heart where meanie!price would be </3

i feel like he would be mean but with good intentions and not as rough as simon is. he would have that authoritative tone he uses on 141 but with a more paternal twist? if that makes sense?

and honestly the ickier the better because you’re a genius to me

untitled unmastered | cw: 18+ mdni, smut with plot, price! being toxic, daddy kink (icky (to hell)), age gap (reader mid 20s, Price late 30s), soft Dom!price (how? Just walk with me), no use of y/n.

Meanie!Price is the ex that just won’t leave you alone.

Good intentions? Yes, but he’s a little- let’s say cynical. (In a fun way!)

And his true intentions are never revealed to you, not even in death, because he’s just so tactical in his efforts to have you, so you just see when he comes around as kind gestures. He doesn’t come over too often, gives you proper space but he’ll pop by once or twice every 3 weeks. Making sure you’re still logged into his Netflix, fixing up whatever may have been broken this past month, checking if you’re eating properly.

Is it true the sink he promised he properly fixed mysteriously burst after two months? Yes.

Should you have called a licensed plumber to come fix it instead of Price so he doesn’t have to keep popping up? To the point you have to hurry your new boyfriend out before John comes in even though he already saw him driving off while spying on your place? Yes. But John is free, and free is always in the budget.

“Don’t worry sweetie, gonna have this fixed up for you,” he says, actually fixing it this time because if he put in the same leaking pipe in one more time, your place would flood. Can’t have you crying more than you need to, can he?

You scuff, rummaging through the cabinets, and slamming it shut when you can’t find what you wanted, “You said that the last time and now look at this shit.”

“And I’m meaning it this time.” He gruffs out, coming out from under the sink, and he raised an eyebrow at you. Your face is screwed up, your ticked off. Well so is he. He can still smell the cheap cologne from your boyfriend, it irks him to no end—

“And when did you start talking to me like that? Huh? I taught you manners didn’t I?”

You’re silent, eyes lazily looking towards the floor. He’s thankful you had sense to not roll your eyes. Maybe you’d forgotten what your place was, how you talk to your Daddy.

“[+].” And it’s one word, your name— a clear warning. His voice deep and stern. Authoritative, like he owns the place. But it makes you straighten, eyes slowly meeting his, playing with your fingers— good. Cute.

“Sorry Price.” Your voice is much softer than what it was before, but it’s genuine. He knows you are, the way you bite the inside of your lip like you’ve always done when you’d done wrong and had to confess.

Oh how the man missed how you used to call him Daddy at times like this. But he’ll accept it, this time.

“Better be.”

Now getting rid of your soon-to-be-ex’s?

No hard feat.

John knows they simply can’t handle you, no matter how kind or sweet they maybe, no matter how fake strong they may present themselves as— they’re no match for him.

It’s almost too easy seeing how the men you date fold over women the women he sent to them, almost painful became who would want to cheat on you? Who would want to give up on you so easily?

It’s almost sickening.

But John is there to comfort you, trust he is the first to see you when it’s official your relationship is over. Cigar on his lips when he sees the young guy take off in his car, he can’t help the smirk the grows on his pink lips as he gets out the car, each step to your place all the more merrier as he goes to clean up the mess and set things back in place.

He’s puts on his Emmy winning performance as you furiously wipe away your tears, avoiding his gaze whilst telling him the truth. But he comes behind you, gently rubbing your waist in his hands, almost crushing you when he squeezes you so tight. He kisses your temple,

“Don’t worry, ‘M here sweet girl, Dad’s here.”

Freak. Idiot. But you melt in his arms, it’s nice to have him hold you, properly tell you you’re going to be okay. Nothing holding you back.

Price is gentle with you, as ways have been always will be. His fingers slowly glide upward, Right inbetween your chest, then around your neck, then lifting your head in his hands. The older man leaves kisses on your collar bone, slow, sensual. And he knows your eyes are trapped looking at him through the glass of the kitchen window.

“Gonna let me treat you like you need,” his own breath is ragged against your skin, his member pressing into you. “Or should I back off. Give me the word and I’ll go.”

“Price, please,” your breath hitches, gripping onto the kitchen counter.

He shakes his head, lifting your chin further, staring right into your eyes through the glass, “You know those aren’t the words to use with me.”

A shiver shoots up your spine, words falling off your lips like theve been dormant this whole time. Like nothing has changed since you’ve been apart— exactly how Price likes it.

“Please Daddy, please make me feel good.”

That’s all it takes for the man to take you in his arms and to your bedroom. And oh, this isn’t a rebound. Some one time occasion to get your mind off your new ex. This is you having at it like you two were always meant to. Slow and passionate, Johns hands touch everywhere like he’s

His two fingers shoved into your mouth while he sinks deep inside your squelching cunt. Your back arching off the bed, John holds you still by your hip.

“That’s a good girl, luvie, always take me so perfect.” He coos, working his girthy cock into you so he reaches the hilt.

He’s always lifting your head as he fucks you, hissing as you squeeze around him, reminding you how pretty you are keening around his dick while taking his pre-cum, how sweet you taste on his lips after kissing him. You’re soaking him completely, slick damping his pubic hair. You hold onto his hairy back like your life depends on it. Taking very slam of his dick into your gummy walls he gives you,

“Cumming- angh- Daddy I’m cumming!” You moan beautifully, clawing at his arms.

“I know sweetheart, show me how good you feel. How much you missed me.” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He spits down on your clit, taking the pads of his fingers and circling them on your swollen bud.

Your orgasm washes over you, sobbing while your eyes screwed shut. Your walls flutter around him and sucking at him for dear life. Blabbering a mix of ‘Daddy’ and ‘Dad’ as you fall apart.

He groans as he cums in you, holding you close so every drop is inside you, “Fuck dovie, Daddy’s missed you so much.”

a/n: parental twist is crazy. 👀 Are you flirting with me? I think I wanna get into John being more strict in another drabble tho. lol someone play daddy’s home.

most recent masterlist

[pillowtalk6]

blunt!simon!riley during your honeymoon

cw: dubiously consensual language / power imbalance, breeding kink / pregnancy kink, possessive + degrading language, obsession + ownership themes, implied somnophilia (waking you up with sex) marking, bruising, overstimulation, territorial behavior / isolation kink, objectification

a/n: divider by @bernardsbendystraws

he doesn’t take you to a beach. no cute sandals, no cocktails. he takes you to a cabin in the woods with no cell service and blackout curtains.

“honeymoon’s for makin’ sure it sticks.”

you don’t leave the bed for days.

you’re wearing nothing but his t-shirt and your wedding ring. your thighs are sore. your voice is gone. you’re leaking everywhere, and he won’t stop pressing his palm to your belly like he’s checking.

“doesn’t feel full enough. think i need to try again.”

he eats you out in the kitchen. fucks you over the balcony railing. carries you from room to room like a doll. he lets you nap only so he can wake you up by slipping in slow and whispering:

“’s your honeymoon, sweetheart. you want me to take care of you, yeah?”

you lose track of how many times he finishes inside you.

and he keeps whispering that same promise into your ear, every time your belly tenses up or your breath catches or your thighs shake:

“gonna give you a belly, yeah? a bump. little ring on your finger and a fuckin’ baby in you. real wife now.”

[pillowtalk6]

Overprotective!Simon my HUSBAND.

He's never been worried. Not at home, not when he could fight any assailants off himself. Hell, they'd be fucking loose in the head to think they could take him on. It's not like he had much to show either--he didn't have much in the ways of luxury, simply because he chose not to purchase it.

Until he met you. He was nervous then, suddenly fixing shit around the house he'd let slip by him--the broken security system, the hole in the ceiling where he'd ripped out the smoke alarm because of its incessant 'low battery' beeping. Sure it was dangerous, but he hadn't cared before.

What never changed was the fact he'd had guns all over the house. You told him before that you'd feel sorry for whatever poor bloke thought he could grab a quick check off of your home, and he'd laughed in response, told you not to worry about it. He'd deal with it, after all, should push come to shove.

So he's prepared when he hears rustling from downstairs, and the beeping of the security system he'd had installed beeping away beside his ear--quiet enough for you to never notice, loud enough for him to wake up. He slips out of bed, sooths the crease that forms between your brows when his warmth leaves from beside yours, and grabs the pistol under the bed.

Whoever's broken in is about to feel bloody sorry for even trying.

He's efficient. Makes quick work of checking upstairs, deems it all clear before he's creeping down the stairs--the perpetrator's back in immediate sight. He's rifling through the desk in the study, thumbing through cabinets for cash, or anything expensive.

He only notices Simon when Simon wants him to. It's a firm press of the gun to the guy's head, causing him to jump, flinching under the touch. "What the hell--"

“I’d shoot y’point blank right ‘ere if I could, but the missus is sleepin’ upstairs. So y’ve got thirty seconds t’fuck off before I turn y’into a stain on the carpet," Simon interjects, checking the clock on the wall absently. Like it's just an average weekday to him.

"Hey, hey man, I'm just--" he raises his hands placatingly, dropping the papers he had been holding.

"Aye. Don't give a fuck. Would rather not stain the carpet, though, missus really likes this one. Said it's real soft n' nice on 'er feet."

Simon catches the door as he practically sprints from the home, only to avoid it slamming--he wouldn't want to alarm you, of course. He hums, shuts it quietly, and goes to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

When he's back upstairs, shuffling into the bedroom, your wide eyes looking at him and quietly asking him where he went--how dare he leave you when you were cuddling, he smiles, places the glass on the nightstand and sneakily slips the gun right where he'd first gotten it.

“Nothing, luv, was thirsty, needed t’grab some water.”

[pillowtalk6]

What More Can I Say?

“You’re hurting me baby, you don’t know what it feels like.”

or: Simon is overly stressed from the everyday pressures of life and accidentally lets it out on you.

cw: 4.8k words, 18+ mdni, angst then fluff, no use of y/n, encounter with ex (not bad), fight with Simon, established relationship, miscommunication, reader! doubts themselves/ retreats into themselves, Simon being an asshole, meanie!simon, (if you squint) very lite dd/lg themes, inspo songs.

a/n: I’ve been working on this request since May, going back and forth on this. this is my final submission.

You are, in every singular way imaginable, the one person on this planet Simon cherishes the most.

And it’s not like you tried your hardest to get in his good graces. you just, fell from Heaven. You must have. A stray who looked up at him with such alluring eyes, the only option was to take you in. Learn to love just how a man should.

He hadn’t properly cared about anyone, not since his younger brother Tommy died. Of course, he cared for the other members in the 141, John was like a father to him, a proper mentor. And Johnny and Kyle were like having two twin brothers who got into mischief.

But there was something about you, something that made him want to take care of you, love you for exactly what you are— his lovely doll and his alone. His baby girl.

Couldnt get enough of you, had to have you in arms length if you went out, and the man knew you loved to dance. He wouldn’t stop you, just needed to feel you once, feel your tension roll away, melt in his arms. Even if he babied you in your tipsy state.

Or maybe when your talked about your favorite movie or artists, rambled on and on about the new winter/fall collections you liked, you’d stop mid conversation, see if he was there because you were used to people drowning you out when you got boring. But his hand would come to caress your nape, gently caressing it with his thumb, that look in low look in his brown eyes that made you feel like you could move mountains single handedly, “Keep goin,” he’d murmur, all but fixated on your pretty face, your eloquent voice, the little stutters from your heart pounding here and there.

And it always does the trick, knowing hes there for you. The little encouragement even when he didn’t talk as much as your past partners, that sweet look of admiration that swirled in his warm brown eyes as he looked at you, making you dinner, taking his large hand in yours and kissing it, using any excuse to see you on his lunch break. “I had a bit ‘f time ‘s all.”

Yeah, sure. Just to see that unconvinced beautiful smile, leaning against the wall of your work place and taking the lunch he ordered for you.

You weren’t a stressor, you were everything to Simon.

It’s just— life can be a pain in the ass. Maybe too much of a pain in the ass. So much so it created a tension under the Riley household.

A big mixture of everything— the stress of his job and the lower ranks lacking on missions, the leak in the roof he didn’t have time to get up there and fix, the floorboard that kept squeaking every time Simon would step into the dogs room on the base floor, he’d replaced it once before and yet it still squeaked. Then you, His loveable Angel, you. Through the mess of it all, he just wasn’t seeing eye to eye with you. Unable to see you through the fog of bullshit. And maybe the irritation of the things he couldn't control in the moment poured into the situation, into your loving home.

He wasn’t one for many words, always been that way. A nod is sufficient enough some days, clean cut direction is better on others, a dad joke on the easiest (or worst) days. And the blonde always made the biggest effort to be clear but gentle with you, even if the words came out more harsh than he meant to. You could understand the gist of it.

But lately, he doesn’t know what to say, or maybe he’s tired of all of the words he needs to be using. And you’re no mind reader, he knows that. Maybe it’d be clear to him if he started fucking acting like it.

It’s not like you or him meant for it to get to this point.

It’s just a quick storm passing through, just rain. But one slick comment lead to another, and a sarcastic reply to follow.

A yelling match.

It’s not just a breeze or drizzle, it’s the tornado, a whirlwind of anger and frustration. It’s annoyance and lack of communication.

Simon’s voice was loud, deep and yet, it’s the lightning. It strikes and pains even when it has no knowledge of it doing so, and hits every nook and cranny of the walls of the room. You are the thunder, furious and wild, willing to get loud if need me, raise your voice louder than you thought you could. Trying to understand where it went wrong, where it could be fixed. If it could be fixed. Pointing two fingers at him from where you sat at the kitchen table like a gun, saying some rebuttal you couldn’t even bother to remember, because it was stupid for him to yell at you like some- like some-

“If you want to bitch all night about the fucking laundry, go do that fucking else where! There are thousands of bitches that would give enough of a fuck about that, I’m so sure Simon!”

“It’s not just the fuckin laundry [+]-“

“—Then I should wait on you hand and foot to find out, on my knees and ask you word for word what you want-“

“— It’s like you’re ignorin the things I’m fucking sayin and purposely forgetting. ‘M asking you bare minimum. Don’t you realize I have my own shit to take care of?”

“So do I, but I’m not being so damn self centered about it! I’m trying to understand. But you don’t even wanna talk about it—“ You shake your head, sarcastic chuckle leaving your throat, “this fucking stupid, this is stupid.”

It only makes him more angry, bitter, “Me putting up with your shit is stupid. Me having to play your therapist when you can’t control yourself for once is stupid!”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not a fucking child Simon. I’m asking for you to be in a relationship with me! Care about the simple shit with me! Why can’t I get a little grace, just like I give you?!”

And he snaps, more than before, he yells, “So I have to look after you every second of the day? Are a fuckin needy bitch [+]?! Is that it!?” He stops for a beat, lightning striking, and it lands— “It’s never just one thing, it piles on to your bullshit. Fuck me, you can never do shit for yourself, can you?”

Maybe that’s what hurt, above all the other shit said tonight, that’s what takes you back. Makes you feel much smaller than you actually are, what you try to present yourself to be. Back to your ex’s, back to being the child who wanted to prove something to everyone in the family- to your siblings, to your mother— your deadbeat father.

It’s a late reaction but you flinch, shoulders slouching, defeated.

“It’s needy for me to want you to not ignore me?” Your voice is shaky, it’s practically a squeak. A question asked in disbelief.

“O-Or ask you for your opinion for the things that go on in my life? Or wanting to confide in you or wanting you to be able to confide in me?”

You want to laugh, but you don’t have the room for it, the strength for it. And you search in Simons eyes for something, anything. Maybe you’re too fast, looking away from him so fast that you can’t see the remorse as he stands where the tornado of your fight once was. In the broken pieces— Clarity. And that seeing the mess hes created pains him.

You nod, tears brimming your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that was me pushing it. I’ll watch myself from now on. Sure to not bother you.” And you walk around him, almost recoiling when he goes to grab your arm, A silent plea, that the words that fell from his lips he truly didn’t mean. But you dodge his touch, running up the steps, the dogs following quickly behind with the clanging of their collars.

But Simon’s throat is stuck even in stage painful quiet, it’s closed, the words never come out when he needs them to. He rubs his face, letting out a heavy sigh.

Leaving him alone in that quiet, dimly lit kitchen.

The faucet left dripping.

୨୧・┈┈・┈┈・୨୧

You didn’t remember your apartment feeling so- so barren.

When’s the last time you slept over here though? A month? No, 3 months ago? You didn’t have a need to be here. Where you could still hear cars honking and passing in the early morning and late nights. You always just grabbed a couple things and scurried back to the car so Simon could take you back to his house.

You’d turned it into a proper home, the two of you. Your CD’s and records were in the bookshelf alongside his plethora of dvd’s and vhs’. The living room decorated to your liking, kitchen more simple yet homey. Both the dogs with getting new adorable dog beds in the shape of an egg and the other green with white flowers on it. Pictures of the two of you hung on the newly painted walls, mostly of you but that’s how he wanted it, little knickknacks and artwork filling up different spaces, plants filling in corners.

Something told you, you’d need an escape plan one way or another. Just in case. You plopped down on your bed after a long day of work with a huff, the few stuffed animals left here plopping around to the side along your pillows. You wanted to drown in your comforters.

And maybe this was good for you, a snap back to reality. Right? This- break? break up?- was a good thing. That’s what you needed. You’d been clinging onto Simon too much already, you forgot the girl you once were.

Independent, fierce, unflinching.

Finding solace in your aloneness.

Or this was just bound to happen, what karma had laid out for you in a past life. People get tired of you quickly, it’s a simple fact. It’s something you’ve felt your whole life. Maybe you stress them out, or you’re too boring, or don’t talk enough, and you’ve changed and changed as much as you could and it always leads to nothing. Always leads to wanting to crawl into yourself and fix whatever switches are “wrong” with you. This is just another reminder to keep people at their distance. Even people you love.

It didn’t make it hurt any less.

You cried and cried yourself to sleep, puffy eyes in the morning, breakfast missed and in a dash to get to work. Had a headache by lunch, ate the frozen meal for dinner. Washed it down with a nice bowl of ice cream, stared at the two missed calls from Simon for an hour before passing out on the couch.

You wouldn’t call him back, what for?

You couldn’t rely on that man forever. Or maybe not be as needy. Time apart is necessary. Not like this. Perfect for a time like this. Right?

Simon didn’t think you’d answer the first time, maybe not even the forth. But he called, even though it wasn’t like him. Once just to see if you answered at the top of the day. Another at the end of the day just for his sanity, to hear your voice through your voicemail.

Everything felt empty without you.

Even the dogs kept circling the door waiting for you, an evening filled with whines from Fish, his favorite toy in his mouth while Slugger laid down in the entry way, just waiting.

But you weren’t coming home. Not anytime soon.

It hurt to see your keys not where they usually were, or how you shuffled around the house his shirt with tired eyes from the day. Or the sound of your voice as you took a call, peaking your head out the bathroom to give him a wave, mid skin care routine, the roll of your eyes and middle finger when he teased and said you looked messy. How you ran your fingers through his locks in the middle of the night when all he wanted to do was just be, but with you.

How was he gonna fix it? What more could he say to get through to you? The anger and frustration ceased to exist, even at work it showed, nothing was worse than silence. And the men under him thought the worst was bound to come to them. Maybe they did fuck up that bad. But it was the opposite.

“You alright mate?” Kyle asked as they sat in the mess hall for lunch, Simon was mid bite of his food. Barely hearing any of the prior conversation.

“ ‘M fine.” He grunted, swallowing his food.

Kyle and Johnny gave each other a knowing look, “Ye don’t look fine.” Johnny raised a brow. “Know yer a quiet lad but you’ve got the wee babies thinkin yer gonna kill ‘em. Just think- well I think—”

“—Fuck do you want me to say?” Simon bit, louder than he intended to, the table looked over tat them wondering what was going on. He tensed, eyes growing weary from his own actions.

Kyle gave a reassuring smile, “Just sayin we’re here for ya man, if you need to talk. That’s all. John too.”

“Yeah…” he nodded, standing from his seat and walking away. And he knew that, that people are there for him during the hard times— that you would be there for him during those hard times. It’s just sometimes, something in his brain would over react or just wouldn’t remember it.

Well, maybe it’s not his boys he needs to talk to.

It’s his therapist.

୨୧・┈┈・┈┈・୨୧

Five days, since your fight with Simon.

Five days of dreading getting off work and going home alone.

Five days of trying to pick up the pieces only to be left with cuts on your hands.

As long as you could make it to the weekend, is what you thought. You were practically flouting your way home as you walked through the streets of the city. It was busy with rush hour traffic, pedestrians just trying to get, home or to the pub.

Your hands shoved in your pockets mc trying to keep warm, you heard a yell from behind you and turned to see what was happening. You rocked on your heals as if you didn’t hear it, then you heard another yell over the music blaring from your headphones. You snatched them off, a confused look on your face till you met his gaze.

Issac, an ex who was probably the most ridiculous man you’ve been with. Ridiculously sweet yet too fucking silly, a cheater. But he was fun to be with. But truly he was not who you wanted to see right now. He’d be the exact person to flaunt their happiness in your misery stricken face without realizing it.

Not right now.

But you couldn’t slip away in time, giving him a tight lipped smile as he waltzed his was toward you in the crowd, gleefully saying your name as he wrapped you in a hug.

“Long time no fucking see. Damn, it’s been ages, hasn’t it?”

You shrug, “Perfect timing I think, you got on my last nerve the last time I saw you.”

“We had a little fight.” He muses, letting you lead the way, no problem with walking you to wherever you were going even if it was in the opposite direction. Catching up wouldn’t hurt.

“You picked up your shit with a gnarly attitude. I wasn’t the problem.” You scoff, pointing at yourself.

Issac shoo’s the idea away, “What’s in the past, is in the past,” he looks across the street your both about to cross and then towards you, your baggy eyes, “What’s up with you? How’s life? You look a little…”

“Tired?”

“Shit, actually.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in! That’s exactly what I needed to hear right now.” You said sarcastically.

“Sorry,” he gave you an apologetic look, “Just thought you were living it up since you looked so good on Instagram.”

“I always look good on Instagram,” you remind him.

“ ‘s that right?” He teases, pulling about a joint from his pocket to light. You can’t help but chuckle in annoyance, this little shit.

“Just- got in a fight with my boyfriend is all.” You finally confess. It’s no point in lying, at one point you two were close friends, before the relationship. But things change.

“Ahhh, tale as old as time.” He hums, “About?”

You sigh, brushing your braids out of your face, you decide with the simple answer, “The laundry.”

Issac bursts into laughter, almost dropping the lit joint in between his fingers. People around you give you questionable looks but continue walking.

“Oh fuck off! Never mind me, what about you? What are you up to?”

He thinks for a moment, gently bumping shoulder with you, “Modeling gigs, goofing off. Not much else, I’m living the single life.”

“For once.” You snicker.

“And only this once. I hate going home and the house is fucking empty, it’s boring all holed up even if it’s for a bit!” He groans but you wince. Did it really feel like that? So dreary?

No. Yes. Shut up.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, noticing the little silence, but your shrug, “You’re good.” You take the joint from his fingers, taking a drag, “It’s a tax.”

“My ass… but your boyfriend and you, fightin over something so simple…” he clicks his tongue, taking the joint back and smoking, “Damn, we’ve fought over less. The way I walk, was it, one time?”

And fuck did it make you feel like shit back then, but it makes you laugh now, how silly you two were, “We were young, we were trying.”

“Trying too hard. Least I was.” He shook his head, muttering that last bit. You cock an eyebrow but he doesn’t repeat himself. “But at least you’re thinking about it, making up. We used to fight and that would be it.”

And it’s true, maybe you two were too similar, you would fight, break up for a month and make up, especially he cheated. He wanted to make it work, something like his parents. Ignore the major flaw that shifted your entire relationship. But your gut would turn every time he went out. Acne flares, holing yourself in more than you were now.

Thank god you two broke up.

“I wouldn’t wanna break up with the guy I’m with anyway,” you glance over at Issac, trying to make up for the tiniest uncertainty in your own words, you smirk, “He’s taller than you.”

“Oh come on, I still got this gun show.” And he flexes his muscles, at least tries to, under his trench coat.

“And he’s definitely stronger than you, he’s in the military” you giggle, genuine this time. And the thought of Simon wrapping you up in his warm embrace swarms you, you bite your lip, but your words tumble out, nothing but love spilling out life water overfilling a glass. “But overall he’s just good for me. He understands me, or at least he tries his best to. And he takes care of everything when I’m in my head too much. And he has funnier jokes than you, a little rough around the edges but warm at his core. Makes me feel like I can do anything. He takes his time with me.”

You sigh, walking down the steps, to get to the station, “A-And I want to take my time with him. Just— shit, I don’t know. It’s one of those times we’re having a hard time listening to each other.”

“Well, all's settled right? You should be able to hear each other out now that you’re both not so angry.” He asks, tapping his pass.

You shake your head, tapping your pass and following behind him, “He’s probably just calling to see if I’m alive or not. Nothing serious.”

You’re so used to giving up, and maybe part of it is on you. You’re used to every game in this life being winner take all, and you being left with nothing, picking up the pieces. Hell, even Issac “won” at the end of your relationship. You would rather fold, with the little dignity you have left, go back to your ways. Free and searching for a new feeling.

But it’s never a new feeling, is it?

You just so desperately want to be wanted, the want to be needed. Even if it’s for a little while, it’s something you craved your whole life. Oh, you’d dance in the sunshine if you could get that feeling.

But it leads you to be so dependent and needy, right?

“—How will you know if you don’t try? You said you like him right? And if he’s trying to reach out, he must like you some kind’ve way.”

And it makes your heart leap up, a shiver rolling down your spine. It’s silly really, that thought of that brute having you on his mind makes you want to spin around and smell the Daisys. You bite the inside of your mouth, rocking on your heals as you stand in place. “And if it’s not worth it?” You mutter.

Issac bumps into your shoulder again, he clicks his tongue, “Fuck, you just said he was the man of your dreams didn’t you? Why would you run away from that? You gotta fight for what ya want!”

Fight for what you want? And what did you want more than anything right now? At this exact moment?

To see Simon.

And maybe the weight lifts off your shoulders, noticeably so. You shove your hands further into your pockets, you’d try. Just this one time, you’d try.

The ends of Isaac’s lip curves up, “I know, I know, I’m such an amazing guy for helping you out. It’s the reason the ladies love me”

“Yeah fuckin right.” The train begins the pull in, more people crowding around the entrances of the public transportation. The doors open, the train conductor calling out the station.

“You ever think we could get back together? Or made it work?” He calls out as you step onto the train. And it’s probably the most genuine he's been since you started this conversation.

You suck in a breath, but you can’t help the corners of your lips curving upward, heat rising on your cheeks, heart pounding faster, “Not a chance.” You take him in one last time, he’s completely changed since the last time you saw him. Long curly hair now short into a fade, looking refreshed and at ease, in business casual which he used to hate. You both had changed, and for the better.

And if that meant not seeing each other ever again, so be it.

“And honestly, I’ve probably fallin more in love with that guy just from talking about him with you.”

And with that, the doors to the train close. Issac takes a step back on the platform, gives you a waves with a solemn look on his face. Disappearing into the crowd as the train rolls away.

୨୧・┈┈・┈┈・୨୧

If Simon would’ve known you would reply to his one singular text before his calls he would’ve texted you sooner.

He built up the courage to talk to you, find the words he needed to apologize. And he didn’t know if they would come out right, as if they ever did, but he was more than willing to try.

He sat on the bench, inside of the park next to the train station closest to his place. The sun was peaking through the clouds, and the sound of children giggling a little bit aways. Simon’s knee bounced in anticipation, tired eyes moving around the open space till he found you, still beautiful as ever. In a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that was almost wearing you. Braids in a claw clip, you made his heart jump.

He doesn’t say anything when you finally get in front of him, just stands, avoiding your deep mocha eyes, that shy but uncertain look that’s written on your face. He hands you the warm cup of tea that he ordered at the coffee shop before coming here. “Just how you like.” His voice is ragged. Taking a sip of his own tea to relax himself, 3 sugars, a drop of milk, but it’s just barely helping.

He nods for you two to walk down the path, but it’s awkward, both of you don’t know what to say or how to act. The birds are tweeting, there are people riding their bikes— it’s serene.

Simon clears his throat, deciding to push his nerves away, “[+], I’m sorry.”

And he feels silly, he doesn’t even remember the last time he apologized like this. Raw and scared, and unknowing what reaction he’d get. You can apologize to superiors with a ‘sorry sir’, let them berate you until they’ve got the anger out or just sigh and wave you off, you’d sort out the problem some way, somehow. But it’s the silence that comes from you that makes him worried. That makes the 6’4 brute want to sink and hide deep inside his shoes.

You rub at your neck, you can try too [+]. Try to make it work. If it meant to change— “It's okay. I could’ve listened and controlled myself but I didn’t and—“

You cut yourself off when you look over at Simon, he’s frowning— almost scowling, “No lovie, god no. I- shit.” He curses a couple times to himself, running his fingers through his short blonde hair, stops in his tracks to face you and gently takes your free hand in his. It’s warm compared to his, it’s enough to feel you, know that you’re really there in the moment.

“I shouldn’t’ve talked to you like that. Or made you feel like that. Ever. This isn’t your fault.” He shakes his head. “ ‘Nd ‘m not just saying things you want to hear, I thought about it properly, even wrote down what I wanted to say, talked about in my group.”

“Group?” You ask.

“Therapy.” He clarifies, swallowing his pride, “I went after too long, I’ve been needing to sort some things out.”

“And I want you to rely on me. ‘Nd talk to me about anything. You’re not too clingy or needy, and even if you were I’d still want you to be that way with me because- I love you. I love takin care of you ‘nd bein there for you when you need me.” He breaths out, searching your eyes, “I know it’s no excuse for me to be- to be stressed from work and take it out on you by being some daft dick head who suddenly gives a shit about when the laundry is done. Or calling you out your name just because you want to talk properly. Shit, I’m just not used to it, expressing myself to you, or anyone. And I’d just- fuckin hell- I’d hate for you to feel annoyed by my own shit.”

You take a second to take in everything he's said, and that he’s being more than sincere in his words, the somber look on his face. You bite your lip, hesitant, “But that’s what a relationship is. To lean on your partner when you need them most. And I’d hate to sound repetitive, but I’m here for you. Whenever. It’s not just you taking care of me.”

“I-I know, I learned that these past couple days. And I promise, I’m going work on talking it out with you, instead of talking at you.” And he takes a step closer, entering your space, kissing your hand, “I need you more than anything in this life, [+]. Home doesn’t even feel right when you're not there. And Fish just won’t stop crying for you.”

“Can you forgive me? Please come home kitten. Please?” He pleads, looking down at you with those pretty brown eyes.

Your cheeks heat up, heart swelling, you give him a slow nod. Relief fills his eyes, gently tugging you into his arms and holding you like you’re the last person on earth. And you hug him back too, your eyes closing just at the feel of him.

“I missed you baby, god, I fuckin missed you.” And he breaths you in, the sweet smell of your shampoo filling his nose and he kisses the top of your head. The weight of his shoulders finally falling off.

He grunts, lifting you off your feet making you squeal, “Gonna take you home,” he mutters, continuously kissing all over your face, kissing your lips a few times for good measure. “ ‘nd take a nap. I’m exhausted, can never sleep a wink without you kitten.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck,

“Same here Si, same here.”

a/n: this post is all over the place with plot holes and has lore that literally won’t make any fucking sense to any one but me. I know. Trust me, I know. And I know it might sound drastic for Simon to go to therapy just over an argument, but my hc is that meanie!simon (specifically) has past anger issues and sometimes he forgets the steps to regulate/properly express himself and his emotions. I know this isn’t what ppl wanted out of me after so long, I just haven’t been confident in my writing as of late but I really gave it my all with this post (I’m really not used/good at writing angst but wanted to try). Sorry for this long authors note. Much love.

most recent masterlist

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @bruisedfig @tessakate @sevikasblackgf @mocha-the-muse @dollfwn @mims900 @lillybunni

[pillowtalk6]

John price with reader who can't cum from penetration alone but John is convinced he can fix that, refusing you give you any stimulation other than that and he actually succeeds. Please😭

very unsure about this writing, but i hope you would enjoy!

cw: overstimulation.

john price is one of the most determined men existing around, both in the field and personal life, a character trait acquired in connection with his service, and then work in the army, an admirable captain that doesn't knows how it is — to abandon the goal that he had long noticed for himself, so when you decide to talk with him about your tiny problem, which shouldn't be an issue at all, he reassures you that he got everything handled, but not in the proper way expected.

you see, cocky of him or not, but john is sure in his own knowledge of sexual performance, and with you stuttering about needing some extra attention during sex, fiddle with your cute, pebbled clit, tease your tits and circle your nipples with his tongue, find a position that would make his fat, engorged cock ram rapidly in that overly sensitive spot hidden between your fluttering walls, but what john really wants to explore, is whether he would be able to make you cum without it all.

maybe it's rude, maybe it's unacceptable, really toxic of him, but surely you can forgive him a little excitement, he wouldn't torture you, the second you'll whimper you can't take it — john would stop, or at least, that's what he convinced you, scorching breath scorching your ear as he promised in a whisper, his graying beard rasping against your already overstimulated skin, warming up as he teases you with rough, calloused gropes and nuzzling face, until you would succumb.

that's how john gets you on his lap, his pants and boxers pooling at the ankles, you're completely naked, gorgeously so, tits in his face so he could lavish on them, giving kisses and little bites, and your cunt swallowing his cock slowly, too big to take in one go, always a burning stretch, so you sink slowly, letting your slick dribble down and wet the slide, until he breaches inside, sheathing fully, your hole stretched taut, making you hiccup in pleasure, clawing at his shirt, already impatient.

he won't tease you even with a thumb, only his cock and gentle ramming inside and out of your clenching, pulsing cunt, pace quickening when you start to wriggle, moans turning into mewling sobs, heat curling deep on the billows of your gut, but not enough, a mild satisfaction, but not the limb numbing, scorching hot you need to be able to cum, so you roll your hips faster, plump ass slapping against his hairy, muscular thighs, but john's blue eyes only twinkle at you with mirth, and you don't understand, pleading for his help.

— “make me cum, john, i — i told you, make me.. help, please” through whiny, high pitched sounds, a true honey coating his ears, and he smirks, one corner of his lip quirking up, bringing a movement to his mutton chops, as he gets a proper hold of your hips, blunt nails sinking in the fat, getting a grip, starting to pound into you, hard and thorough, harsh, chopped movements, sending all your nerves singing, alight, you just need a final flick, so your hand sweeps down the stomach towards awaiting clit, and there, john slaps your touch away.

gasping, as if physically wounded, you glare at him with fluttering, doe wide eyes, and the furrow his face wears makes you swallow and whine, unable to form a normal question, but he knows what twists your tongue, and tuts at you, clicking his tongue with a gravelly voiced refusal — “you'll cum from my cock, and nothing else, for now, okay darling?”, and how can you disobey, when your pleasure is in his hands, as john's wide palms wrap around your wrists, holding, and starting to use it as a leverage to pummel your gushing hole.

you won't leave your position on his cock, bouncing on his lap, until you cum, and solely from the sheer weight and feeling of his huge cock teasing your insides, gummy walls tightening, fluttering, spasming, but never enough, not near there, pooling somewhere distant, making you desperate, jumpy, licking against his mouth and pleading under your breath again and again, though john doesn't moves a single finger.

until you're too overstimulated, thighs burning, cunt aching, clit almost numb, desperate for even a little pinch, and suddenly, your tummy feels too heavy, as if something pushes down, heavy and not going anywhere, just staying and crushing, as if a bloating sensation, your movements stuttering, john's thrusts followed by loud squelching just from how slick everything is, as you jerk, overwhelmed, realizing through dimly haze that there's a hard gush, limbs loosening and twitching, cunt clamping.

your head falls against john's shoulder, his chest vibrating with a growl, as he moves one hand from your hip towards the small of your shuddering back, pressing you against himself tighter, as you sag down, his cock down into you to the balls, twitching and spurting warm, vicious ropes that mix with a rush of your own cum, wrenched out of you, as you hiccup and nuzzle in the crook of his neck, gasping his name breathlessly, barely understanding what happened, but judging by the endless stream of rumbling praises, john got what he wanted, and you too.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[pillowtalk6]

Untitled Unmastered.2 | cw: 18+ mdni, smut, meanie!simon, daddy kink (icky), dad bf! Simon, cowgirl, nipple play, age gap (simon 30s, reader mid 20s), fluffy (kinda), blackcat!reader,

Simon could stare at you for ages.

Literally.

He never gets bored of you. The way you look like a model when youre just sitting on the stool, flipping through a magazine while he works on his truck. From the way you tie your hair up and sit on the fluffy rug to fix your makeup, despite the vanity he bought you. How you rummage through everything, clothes ending up on the floor and the vanity chair just to find one article of clothing you decide you won’t wear for the night. The pout on your lips when you’re feeling less confident. The snarky faces you make when Simon playfully tells you off about the mess.

“Yeah, yeah” you’d mumble, fixing your hair for the hundredth time. Not hundredth truthfully, 11th to be exact. It was still pretty in Simon’s eyes. Today though, you’re job was specifically to clean out your closet while Simon did some quick jobs around the house.

And you were. Kind’ve. You ended up playing dress up. Trying on your clothes in different variations, every piece of clothing meticulously styled, holding hats and other accessories to your chest and over your head, to see if you’d actually wear it. You’d passed Simon 3 different times in 3 completely different outfits in the span of an hour.

He squinted, taking in the fourth outfit, a stolen black shirt from his closet, a black bucket hat with oversized black jeans, a red leather jacket to pair, stacked necklaces and black boots. He leaned against the sink, arms folded over his chest, “The fuck are you doing kitty?”

“Sorting through my closet.” You say, opening the fridge and grabbing an orange and shutting it. “I’m doin what you asked, remember?”

He snorts as you walk away, unconvinced, “Yeah, sure.”

But he follows behind you back to your room after a few minutes, you peak his interest just from that alone. He leans on the door frame, examining your semi messy room, the red leather jacket now in a pile with other items. There was always mess to your madness. Least you were trying.

He sighed, taking a seat on your leopard print throw on your bed. A lazy look on his face, “Come on baby, show ‘em t’ me.”

Sure, he’ll act bored, like hes making the process any faster by watching over you, like he’s not the reason your closet is so full. But he’s more than enamored with you, always ready for his own little fashion show. 

You come out the closet, in a pair of black shorts that hug your curves perfectly, a dark green baby doll blouse, your hair now in a low ponytail. “It’d be nice with a necklace I think.” You speak casually while smoothing the blouse.

Simon looks down at your shorts again, the way they ride up your thighs, scuffing. “Spin.”

“I don’t think-“

“—Lovie.” He blinks. voice stern and deep. You grumble, doing as your told, the shorts riding so high that both of your ass cheeks are half out. It’d be worse if you bent over.

He curses, “Bloody hell, these might as well be a thong kitty.” He leans forward, pulling at the elastic of the shorts. “You’re not goin out in these.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “But it’s for the summer!”

“My ass, out with ‘em.” He waves you off as you pout, watching as you slip them off right in front of him with a huff. He gives your delectable ass a pinch, making you yelp.

“Daddyyy.” You whine.

“I’m making sure your ass was breathin baby. Don’t mind me.” He grunts, nonchalantly leaning back on the bed.

You rummage through the closet again, coming out in a handful of outfits, Simon is breezing through them with you. Still carefully letting his eyes trail down the curve of your back, the way your tits sit perfectly in a top, he loves it.

It’s when you come out in a black dress his brain goes a little haywire.

His breath hitches as he watches you, a big grin on your face as you spin. The dress was tight, course it was, a long sleeve off the shoulder that just covered your ass just enough. Simon wouldn’t mind having to pull it down every five seconds, only if he got to see those gorgeous eyes looking at him and only at him.

“Yeah, lovie come ‘ere, wanna see it up close.” He speaks ever so carefully.

And he loves it, the allure you have, that twinkle in your eyes that knows hes head over heals for you. the small swish of your hips as you take the hand he heald out for you to stand in between his legs. He pulls you closer, large hands going up and down your body, from your back, to your hips, down to your thighs, peppering kisses on your stomach.

“I think it’s nice.”

“Mmhmm”

“I could wear this to my friends party this week. You’ll let me go, right Pa?”

“Sure.”

“And it’s not sheer this time, so everything’s not hanging out.”

He rolls his eyes, yanking you down to his level, and meeting your lips, molding the two together, “Fuck up.” He grumbles in between kisses. You slap at his back, annoyed but complying, wrapping your arms around his neck as he guide you to straddle his lap, the dress riding up to your waist.

“I-Is this my reward f-for cleaning- anngh- my closet?” You moan, Simons lips making their way down your neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin.

The older man thinks for a moment, still kissing your neck, grinding your soaking pussy onto his growing length in his jeans. You both grunt, Simon can’t help but internally smirk, favorite girl, “No kiddo. Just thought ya look so pretty, wanna see how you move in this dress. You’ll let me see, wont you?”

Your clit was swelling up, your arousal making your panties damper, you couldnt help but hump against him for any friction, too lost to get your words out. He cocks an eyebrow, hands roaming up and down your hips, “You won’t let me?”

How could you say no? You ramble out, “No, I’ll show you! I’ll let you see how it moves pa!”

Which led to your lace underwear slightly torn, Simon slipping inside you and stuffing you full with his girthy cock. His hands harshly gripping and pulling on your ass while you rode him.

You keen, rolling your hips so disgustingly perfect, fast and hard, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. Your long nails clawing self his shoulders for leverage, “Shi- mmphf- feels so gooood Daddy.”

Simon hisses, eyes stuck on your disheveled state, the euphoric face you make, as his dick meets every ridge inside you sopping walls, he curses, “So fuckin gorgeous kitten.” his thumb brushes your lips, inviting itself in your mouth for you to suck on.

“Don’t even think that pretty little brain ‘s- shiiit- there anymore, only thing on your mind’s feelin good, huh?” He speaks in such a condescending tone but you can’t help but moan around his thumb.

“My dumb little baby, don’t worry, Daddy’ll get you there.” He ruts up into you with a groan, wrapping a hand around you to lean your chest to his face, pulling the dress down just enough so it’s under your chest. You whimper as his lips latch around your nipple, the other getting harder as you bounce in his lap, meeting his thrusts.

His mushroom tip, meets your g spot, rudely hiting it over and over every time he burry’s himself deep inside you. Simon switched between your nipples, sucking and nippling at them, tweaking them in between his fingers, your pussy soaking his cock. You throb around his length, eyes widening before you shove at his muscular chest.

“Fuuuck, I- haaah- it’s so much Pa!” You gasp, trying to escape his hold, but he only slams into your meaner, giving your ass a harsh smack that’s sure to bruise as he looks up at you.

“Fuckin take it, damn- ah-, you got it. give it to me kitten, Show me how messy you are” He grunts, grinding you down on his length. And your legs give out on you, breathless and creaming as you reach your peak. Your walls pulse around Simon, he hissed as you claw at his back, crying out in pleasure while he still fucks up into you. He holds you tight, biting at your shoulder and licking around it.

He gruffs out, “Look at you, took my dick so well lovie, fuck- hah- So fuckin sexy doll, so fuckin tight—” his cock twitches inside you, paining your walls that white fluid and filling you till your nothing but stuffed with his cum.

You both are left breathless, sticky with sweat, cum spilling out of you and onto your pubic hair.

He leaves a kiss your forehead, “Such a good fucking girl baby.”

a/n: meanie simon who supports short clothes but really doesn’t like when your ass hangs out. Also, Simon who does prize/food rewards when you’re good instead of just fucking you. lol it’s been a while. Sorry y’all. Of course lmk what you think.

most recent masterlist.

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @bruisedfig @tessakate @sevikasblackgf @mocha-the-muse @dollfwn @mims900 @lillybunni

[pillowtalk6]

just thinking about how husband!simon remembers wife!reader's bra size 😭

you'd never been so humiliated, yet somehow so aroused after coming out of a retail shop. simon swore up and down that he hadn't meant to do it.

"it was a 'spur of the moment' kind of thing", he'd said.

"spur of the moment'? kiss my ass," you'd replied.

"i'd kiss your ass any day, love."

you noticed that none of your bras were cutting it anymore; the cups were a bit too big, or the straps were too loose and would fall down at any chance, or the material was falling apart due to a certain someone's roughhousing.

and this certain someone picked up on it, too. well, why wouldn't he? he was your husband, he knew these things. he'd sit in bed and watch you getting ready for bed, his eyebrows scrunched in a little as he watched you mutter to yourself while staring in the mirror, giving an exasperated huff before changing your bra out for something else to sleep in.

he'd heard enough of your mumbled complaints for him to plop you down in the truck and drive you both into town, tapping his calloused fingertips against the steering wheel as he pulled into the carpark outside the retail shop.

it was pretty easy to navigate once you got inside; kids and babies at the front, men on one side, and ladies on the other. you spent a little while looking through some different options, asking for his opinion on a few. obviously, he liked anything you put on, so his opinion wasn't very helpful. thankfully, one of the shop clerks noticed your indecision and decided to approach.

you told her what you were looking for, and she asked the few routine questions: what colour? what style? what size?

before you could open your mouth and tell the young lady what your bra size was, simon stepped up, holding a few things you'd chosen under his arm.

"she's about..." he held up one hand in a claw-cupping motion, as if he was holding something that only he could see. "...this big."

your face flushed with embarrassment as the clerk nodded, looking a little confused but walking off to find what you needed.

and you didn't stay much longer in that shop.

as soon as everything was paid for and you'd both returned to the car, you buried your face in your hands and gave a nervous, humiliated laugh.

"simon! i can't believe you did that," you groaned.

"i can," he said gruffly. "got the right size, didn't i?"

you bet your ass he snapped that thing off you as soon as you were getting undressed.

and what was his logic?

i bought 'em, so i get to take 'em off.

RAAAA i hate this it's so short but i seriously couldn't find it in me to make it longer stupid writers block 😔

ENJOY :3

[pillowtalk6]

nsfw

simon’s fucking you from behind with one hand wrapped around your throat while the other holds your phone—making you watch the video he took of you sucking his cock just hours earlier.

you’re not sure what round the two of you are on, you lost track a few orgasms ago. you’re not even sure you still know why you’re being punished. you made him mad, that much was obvious—just by the harsh way he’s pounding into you, his grip around your throat just tight enough to have you seeing black every few minutes.

“look at yourself,” he growls, voice low and filthy in your ear, “look at what you fuckin’ do to me.”

you listen, eyes peeking open to glance at the screen. it’s a filthy video, truly. you’re on the bed, on your back, head hanging off the side of the bed. simon’s standing in front of you, fucking your open mouth.

his hand tightens on your throat when you whimper, the corners of his mouth lifting in a slow, mean smile. his thumb brushes your lips, like he’s considering shoving it into your mouth.

“you think this is bad?” he rasps, voice almost gentle. “wait ‘til i’m done with you.”

[pillowtalk6]

FORGET ME NOTS

MDNI 18+

butcher simon x floralist reader

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ retired! simon riley who is a butcher in a small town suddenly finds himself infatuated with the florist across the road who gave him flowers on national flower day.

note: not proof read

cw: fem! reader, dom! simon x sub! reader, mentions of masturbation

i.part 1 ii. part 2

its been a weekly routine, you coming every few days to the butcher with simon’s best cuts already prepped and ready from the moment he opened the shop. he didn’t care if other customers asked or tried to bargain, it was yours and he didn’t care about what others asked for.

he found himself adding more to just the cut, personal seasoning, oil and small notes filled with tips on how to cook it perfectly. simon told himself that it was simply a kind gesture, and not because he wanted to smell the sweet scent of your perfume for a few seconds longer, or having a closer view of your glossy lips.

no. of course not.

“it should be perfect after you add this seasoning,” his gruff voice filling up the empty store. simon was a respectful man… when he wasn’t fisting his cock to the thought of your warm plush lips wrapped around his head with drool dribbling down your chin.

but the sight of you craning up your neck to look at him made his pants a little more tighter. it was something he was used to, being a man his height and size it was an every day occurrence of having his customers looking up.

but seeing your eyes so wide and trusting, listening to everything he is saying so intently rubbed his ego slightly, having the attention of a pretty thing like you all to himself. “this one will fill you up for tonight,” he spoke roughly, handing the bag to you. he loved the way your eyes sparkled, trusting everything that came out of his mouth. “thanks sir.”

the word made his cock swell ever so slightly, simon now suddenly grateful for the bench in between the two of you.

sometimes, he didn’t know if you were just a minx or a total airhead who was completely unaware.

“i got you some flowers, i hope the last ones i gave you are doing well.” simon stared at the colourful arrangement that was now placed on the glass bench. he was never a plant guy or a flower guy, he was simply simon.

but his once dull apartment was filled with flowers, watered carefully and strategically placed on his windowsill when it was sunny. “they’re doin’ great swee’heart.” the word of endearment slipped out like second nature, however the way you blushed shyly, your head looking down made his cock swell.

nervously he cleared his throat, “if you want i can cook something up.”

never in his life has he lost composure, but today might just be the day.

“of course.”

or not.

“i finish in an hour, then back in my apartment?” he eyed you carefully, as if he were expecting you to slither out. but instead you flashed him a warm smile, “sounds great sir.”

now he had an hour of his imagination running wild, you pinned down on his bed as he sank his teeth into your skin, listening to the sweet sounds of your moans as he was hurried deep inside you.

but he quickly brushed those thoughts away, after all, he had the most important dinner of his life to cook.

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