#cod mw2

[cobaltbeam]

Normal conversations to have on the plane

I'm also doing more cod art on Patreon!

[cameronsbabydoll]

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.”

[z3nt5u]

Fishie.

[mellosdrawings]

Post-OP crash out rkgk

[spiltspit]

Keeping it tactical ✔️

[clancycatears]

mdni (18+) thinking about a beach day with soon-to-be-dad!johnny mactavish.

"johnny, my belly is not that big!" you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, forearms resting on the swelling bulge of your stomach, where little baby angus was curled up inside—a month or two away from worming his way out of your maternal factory.

johnny was on his hands and knees, raw fingers digging into the sand, tracing a circle that had to be almost two times bigger than the roundness of your tummy. he begins to scoop up the sand with haste, particles flying behind him, a gleeful smile on his face.

"tha bigger, tha betta! wee bairn's gonna need all the space 'e can get, me love," he coos, sitting up on his knees once he was halfway done. "an' ah ken y'like to lie on yer tummeh. ye need it."

you exhale slowly, your entire body sagging. you watch patiently as johnny makes quick work with the rest of his outline, knees and hands caked in thick layers of sand. quite the gentleman in his own unique way, he was. always caring for his dearest wife and prepping for fatherhood the johnny way.

snacking on your pregnancy cravings alongside you, buying you a pregnancy pillow despite pouting about how you'd be further away from him in bed, setting up a makeshift bed—made of blankets and pillows—on the floor next to the small, freshly-built crib beside your shared bed to test his presence just in case angus fussed in the middle of the night to give you a break. because, surely, you'd be exhausted after carrying his wee lamb for so long.

and now here he was, making little angus is own special spot on the beach by digging it up like a search dog. though a smile kept his face bright the entire time.

he's quick to his feet, leaning to his side to tug your towel from the beach bag the two of you had packed, and draped it over the hole in the sand after a quick flick to keep it in shape. the fabric sunk down where the hole was situated, giving you space to lie flat on your tummy without worrying about squishing a thing.

"c'mere," urges johnny, rising to his feet and making his way to you in a few short steps, palms outstretched. with tender care, he took both your hands in his—sharing his accumulation of sand—and guiding you towards the towel. "lay down, yeah? y'need some sunscreen on yer bonnie skin."

without a word of opposition, you surrender, slowly descending to your knees with johnny's guidance—his hands sliding down to your hips until you're bracing and lowering yourself forward. your belly sunk into the hole perfectly, the chill sand underneath cooling your skin deliciously.

"look'a ye," he sighs fondly, fingers tailing up your back until they put pressure onto your shoulder blades, rubbing slowly—massaging. "yer fuckin' glowin'."

you groan softly, the caress a much-needed relief to your aching, labored joints. crossing your arms under your head, you drop your cheek onto the warm skin beneath, eyes falling shut with relaxation.

he retreats for just a moment, then there’s a muted click of a bottle of sunscreen popping open, a quiet squelch of the contents being squeezed out, and then johnny's hands return to run the slick goo along your back. you tense with the sudden intrusion, cool liquid contrasting scorching skin, until you settle when the mix fades to lukewarm pleasure.

"thereee we go," hums johnny, smoothing the rest of the much-needed lotion down to your hips, squeezing with appreciation, passing your thighs, to your calves—coating your body with a protective layer from the sun’s hot rays.

johnny gets to his feet again. you listen to them as they kick up sand, rounding the towel until he reached your head. his body shades your own momentarily when his form leaned over you, a hand falling to your scalp to card through your hair. "so tired, lassie. get some shut-eye, 'm gonna swim a wee bit. love ye."

"love you too, honey," you reply with a quiet murmur, your mind on the very cusp of sleep and awareness. there's a small peck to the crown of your head, and then his figure retreats as he returns to his feet to hobble off and do who knows what.

sleep came to you faster than you could stop it. you were unsure how long it lasted until you pried your eyes back open after a short kick from baby angus—vision briefly blinded by the orange and pink hue in the sky. the sun was setting. you'd come here just after it had reached its high.

"ah—'old on, pidge! don' move!" squeaks johnny from a distance, hurrying to your side once more. "look, look!"

craning your head in his direction, your brows crease, before raising when your eyes hand on a giant hole dug into the sand a few feet from where you lay. there stood johnny, sand decorating his overgrown mohawk, and a wide, proud grin on his face. "look'it that, honey," you sigh, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips. "can you stand in it?"

"sure can," he replies, running a hand through his hair—bits of sand falling to his shoulders. "well... up to mah knees."

inhaling the smell of the ocean breeze, you plant your hands over your hand and begin to lift yourself from your resting place. though you pause when you feel specks of cool over your sun-kissed skin—a puny drag. you shoot a look at johnny, and his smile drops into a sheepish simper.

"johnny," you deadpan.

"yes?" murmurs johnny, tone hopeful.

"what's on my back?" lifting yourself up, there's a faint handful of clinks that sound from your back, several bits of smooth mantle running down your spine until they scatter over the towel.

"...seashells," he admits, face tinting bashfully. "found 'em while diggin'..."

"pretty ones?" you coo, and he lights up instantly, padding to where you lay to drop on his knees.

"found one tha' kiiinda looked like yer eyes, lemme—oh."

he pauses just as he reaches for a shell, smoothing a hand over your back. "uh oh."

"what?" you tilt your chin to him, blinking slowly.

"er... should'a saved 'em fer a bucket..."

craning your head over your shoulder, you find spots of pale scattered over your back. all shell-shaped, varying in size and intensity—speckling your tan with bits of lighter skin. your smile drops to a faux frown, hooded eyes dragging back to johnny's face.

he shoots you a nervous smile, free hand clasping the nape of his neck. "oops...?"

angus is a part of sil's (@sillyswriting) dad!johnny mactavish series! definitely give it a read. also, kudos to the polycult for encouraging the voices.

[toomanywordsnllines]

HURRAH FOR ME I FINALLY FINISHED THE ILLUSTRATIONS \o/

Had the biggest of pleasures in participation in @codbigbang with the sweetest of partners @tacticallyunsoundjohnnyboy on two of the most challenging ilustrations I did so far!

Here's his fic!! And the second illustration! I'm going to be posting each illustration separately, This one was my first one - extremely proud of it - not to toot my own horn but the rendering came out baby smooth (I'm so proud of it I could squeal)

[konigsblog]

how would konig feel about sex toys… i bet he would be pissed about the reading using them and ban them forever

CW: 18+, female!reader, brief mentions of König being “immature” or “toxic”. 🔞 Not proofread - ignore the mistakes. ☺️💐

He’s already insecure enough as it is, and you using sex toys instead of using him for your sexual pleasure only amplifies his fears of not being good enough for you.

In a fit of fury, he throws them into the trash, grinding his pearly teeth together before locking himself in his office all day in a huff. He takes his dinner into his office instead of his usual routine of eating with you - which is very unusual as he’s always adamant on enjoying a meal together.

König can’t deal with his emotions maturely because he’s afraid of lashing out on you - that’s why he explodes when you argue, because he has so much built up anger that he refuses to communicate with you. He knows he needs therapy - maybe marriage counselling - but he’s too worked up on not being sufficient as a husband.

And after a hard, long, and exhausting day of work, you come to your beside table, eager to work out some frustration after a rough day, only to find they’re now missing. And you’re not dull; you know exactly where you last placed them, and based off König’s attitude all day, you suspect him of taking them from you.

Once confronted he then lashes out. It’s your usual arguments where König fears he isn’t good enough. He knows he’s toxic for this. It’s like that one time you refused to have sex with him and he blew up on you, screaming that if he isn’t enough, then why are you two together. His tendency to overthink is the reason he isn’t a good husband.

“Why is it that I’m never good enough for you?! If you want sex, I’m right here!” He yells through his fury, avoiding eye contact with you. And at this point, you don’t even care. You just need to get rid of that need and craving to feel euphoric that you begin stripping naked, throwing your panties and bra at him with an annoyed expression on your face. You hate giving in to his wants, but you can’t bring yourself to have some self respect and fight back. And König can’t help himself from the sight. This is what he wanted.

“Well? What are you waiting for. This is what you’ve been birching about all day.”

And with a surprised expression on his face, he begins to unbuckle his belt, the sound worsening your patience. He slips his shirt off, sounds of clothing hitting the ground filling the room between his laborious breathes. His calloused hands wrap around your waist, fingers slowly trailing up your back and back down to play with your rear.

He shoves various objects off his desk, bending you over it with one large hand seated on the small of your back, keeping you in position while he rummages through his drawers, looking for lube to prepare you with. He coats his fingers in the lubricant before easing them into you, still huffing about how unfair it is for you to use sex toys when he doesn’t - because he has you, and that should reciprocate the same in return. You turn your head over your bare shoulder, shooting him a glare.

“Show me that you’re better then.” You mutter, the sides of your lips quirking at the furious expression on his face.

Before you can even comprehend what you’ve said, you feel his large hand whip your rear. You yelp out in shock while your thighs clamp together, biting your bottom lip at the way his fingers curl inside of you. A newfound ambition and passion to show off his skills now evident. “You shut that mouth.” He grumbles, now stroking his hard cock with his over hand, smearing his pre over your hole before aligning himself.

One hand coated in your lube grips you by the scruff of your neck, the other now on your hip as he bottoms out inside of your prepared and creamy hole. A whiny squeal leaves you, that spot now being hit by his slick head. His thrusts are slow, deep, and everything you’ve been craving.

“Say you’re sorry,” He starts, cutting himself off with a deep and low groan and he pushes himself out from the warmth of your hole and flips you over onto your back, hiking up your legs before throwing them over his broad shoulders and sliding back inside. “Say I’m better.” He continues, one hand now locking around your throat, starting to dig into your skin. You look up at him, eyes glossy, your bottom lip starting to burst from your teeth biting into it. You gasp as he slides back out, his broad hips meeting your rear and his hung ballsack colliding with your cunt. His eyes are dark and hard to read, but all you know is that you’re in for a pounding.

“Fuck- you’re better- God, the best.” You manage between deep breathes and slaps to your thighs. He lets go of your neck, both hands now holding your waist intimately as he throws his head back, eyes rolled back at the sensation. He can’t help but quicken his needy pace, now erratic and sloppy, the messy sounds of your squealing like music to his ears, everything he was dying for. Your moans harmonise with the sounds of your skin sticking together, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. His length pulses inside of your slick heat, two fingers reaching your nipple to twist and squeeze. He presses his chest to yours, hard buds and sweaty skin sticking to his.

König’s breath is deep and heavy, his eyes are rolled back and his jaw is slack. Your eyes shut tightly as you groan out, mumbling out curse words at the way his hits your cervix, how you flutter around his cock. You stumble over your words trying to find them, brain turned to mush at his will. He can only bury his head in the crook of your neck, his words now sweet and tender, sounding almost pathetic as he apologises profusely for being mean - for being so bitter and insecure.

Through an apology, you lose control, only worsening the effect you have on him. Your walls pulse around his, your toes curled and your back arched off the cool wooden table. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and the sight of your clammy skin and perky breasts, your thighs coated in your pleasure was too much for him to bear. His hips stutter and collide with yours, his fingers nestling themselves in your hair, his breath on your skin before he kisses down your collarbone, releasing pearly drops of semen inside of you.

He lays like this for a while, finally having you where he wants you.

“Fuck, König- you’ve definitely proved that you’re better…” You chuckle, your legs still wrapped around his waist, his head still buried in your neck through shame.

[lanialania00]

[l4xu0riipng]

I DON’T SEE ENOUGH OF THEM OH MY GOD

bringing them back

[cobaltbeam]

Some nasty nasty ghoap for the soul 🙏

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

loner! simon riley being completely unaware that he’s largely endowed

mentions of: huge dick simon riley, loser simon riley, vaginal sex - part 2

just loner! simon riley with a huge cock that’s all

he was completely unaware of how big he really is, thinking it’s probably just average or maybe even smaller, and straying awkwardly away from any sex talk with his friends.

he was also completely unaware of how it literally swings when he walks, especially when he is alone in his apartment with no boxers just because they felt so unreasonably uncomfortable, like his cock was suffocating. his tight cargo pants always bunched up at the crotch area.

he was quite messy whenever he came whilst fisting his cock. his rough hands marred with scars moving up and down sloppily, lewd wet noises filling up the room as he leaned his head on the wall, his black skull balaclava in his mouth to stifle any groans.

his cock felt heavy, weighing down his hands and sometimes would even make his hands ache.

and he had a heavy load of cum when he came it would spurt all over his abdomen, making a sticky mess on his hands as he tried to wipe it with a towel, his actions sloppy due to the ache in his right hand.

so when he first fucked you he felt like an amateur, completely unaware of your gaze glued to his bulge as he freed his aching cock, looking already huge in his large hands. he struggled, like a lot getting it in.

he was so excited to feel your warm cunt around him, missing your hole multiple times.

“fuck, ‘m sorry luvie, don’t know why it’s not going in.” his cheeks beat up, a faint dust of pale pink as his fat tip nudged against your glistening hole, his hand steady trying to guide it. “jus’ a lil stretch,” he cooed as he watched the way his tip was enveloped by your cunt, a loud squelching noise before he finally sank in.

god he loved watching that small tummy bulge whilst fucking you.

he never thought he’d feel so good, your gummy walls so tight and warm around his cock, squeezing him like you wanted to milk him dry. simon was used to the feeling of his palms, the rough dry skin, but god it did not compare to the feeling of your cunt.

he came within seconds after you, his cum dripping out despite his cock being plunged so deeply into your cunt.

he swore that he saw your stomach swell just slightly due to his cum.

[gazstations]

A little look back to the night Baby Price was conceived. Hehe. May I offer y’all smut amongst the fluff of your zombie apocalypse au?

Shoutout to the polycult for watching my rambles about this blurb all day. I hope you all eat.

CW: HEAVY BREEDING KINK, porn with plot, body worship, fingering, p in v, creampie, John running his mouth about how much he loves his wife

cod masterlist || other parts to au

THE NIGHT WAS FILLED WITH THE SWEET MELODY of a frog and cricket chorus. You sat perched on the freshly sanded and primed porch in your backyard, peacefully reading a book. You were relaxed, shoulders slackened and body shaking off the craziness of the day. You had a lot of errands, ones that took the whole course of the day from early morning to right when the sun started its nightly departure.

You felt safe in your little sanctuary. Though, you had a husband who installed cameras and security everywhere. He didn't play with your safety. In fact, he probably went a little bit too apeshit about it. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he took such good care of you and never used his worry as a means of isolating you into his crafted bubble.

You still had autonomy.

The front door opened, and you didn't hear, too immersed in your book to pay attention. It was only when you heard the sliding glass door glide open that you turned your head.

And there was your husband. He held himself with a confident demeanor. Blue eyes casted upon you, softening crows feet as he relaxed at the sight of you. His lips tilted upwards underneath the coarse line of his facial hair, brightening his face immediately.

“John!” You chirped, jumping from your seat and rushing towards him. “You're home!”

John caught you swiftly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head possessively while the other wound around your waist. You heard him take a deep inhale as he pressed his nose against your hairline.

“Hi, darlin’,” he rasped. “Fucking knackered.”

You let out a soft cooing noise as you peeled your upper body away from him. The hand on the back of your head shifted to cup your soft cheek. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, unable to resist the urge to admire you.

“Been thinking,” he continued before you could speak. “A bit. Got my head in a bloody blender.”

“Anything I can do to help?” You asked.

He had just gotten home from deployment, and you knew the first couple of days he despised any talk about what he saw or did. Made sense. You would want to detach as much as possible as well. He needed his time to process that he was safe now–an unshakable trauma of a soldier.

“Mhm. You can start by letting me take you to bed, eh?” John’s gravely voice tickled your eardrum. “Can I do that?”

You nodded, and John's hand squeezed at your cheek. “Words, darlin’.”

“Please, John. Take me upstairs,” you breathed obediently.

John's smile turned lopsided as he looped his muscular arm under your ass and hoisted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging to him like some desperate leech.

John was already pawing at your clothes the best he could while you were perched around him. He got you into the master bedroom and herded you against the wall immediately.

His hair burned deliciously on your neck as he leaned forward and latched onto your flesh. He kissed at your chilled skin, provoking goosebumps to rise. He hummed quietly, moving up to your jawline. You sighed softly, knocking his infamous hat off his head as your fingers curled into his cropped hair.

“Gonna let me give you a baby, darlin'?” John purred against your ear as his lips trailed across your heating flesh.

You nearly choked, “wha-”

“Shhh. Don't play innocent,” John's voice lowered as he pulled back to look at you again. His pupils were like a drug addicts’. The black was swallowing the pretty blue he was blessed with, and you found your breath stuttering. “You send me all those videos. Hoping I take the hint, yeah? Hint taken. Love opening my phone to all the needy ways my wife begs for me.”

You gasped lightly when John sucked a mark into a delicate place on your neck. Your heart was pounding. You arched your back the best you could and pushed your hips towards his. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your chest, making your breath heavier.

“Noticed you didn't go pick up your pills either. Wasn’t on my card,” John continued. “Hm. I wonder why. You want me that badly?”

His hands ran up your back and peeled you off the wall. He dragged you over to the bed and let the back of your knees hit the edge. He supported you as you lay back, scooching up towards your pillows as you blinked up at him.

He watched you for a moment, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was worked up, and your stomach fluttered at the sight of your composed husband so untethered. You shifted and instead shifted back towards the edge of the bed, pawing at the evident bulge in his cargos.

John pushed your hand away. “‘M taking care of you, darlin’. Not doing a bloody thing to help me. Got it?”

Your core burned as you nodded. John crowded you back over to your previous spot, situating pillows—a break in the heated touching and words. You couldn’t fathom how this man was real most of the time. Always was quick to deal with every little thing that wouldn't be acknowledged by most people.

“Gotta have you comfortable and happy when I put my baby in you, yeah?” he leaned down and kissed you desperately for a moment, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before he pulled away.

You watched, mesmerized, as John stood and shucked his shirt off. His muscles underneath twitched as he threw the shirt onto the floor and reached down to his pants. He groaned deeply as he pulled his pants and boxers off.

John's cock was heavy, it drooped from the weight of his own arousal. The tip was flushed dark red when he pulled back the foreskin. Your cunt clenched around nothing, needing your husband undeniably after his long deployment.

Your sight was soon obscured as John climbed onto the bed and bent over to press a kiss to your bare knee. His lips trailed up your thigh until his breath warmed against your covered cunt.

His eyes flickered up to you, admiration clear in the blackness of his dilated pupils. You always knew that John loved you. He never left you room to doubt that, but sometimes he still left you reeling. He was closed off in so many ways, except for his capacity to love you.

You had never felt so lucky.

“Lift your hips,” he ordered softly. You could tell he was still riled up, but he was making sex a sacred thing still. It was never some mindless rutting activity for him.

You complied, ass rising off the bed so he could work your shorts and panties off your body. You could feel the honeyed slick pooling between your legs already as you bit your lip. While he did that, you pulled your shirt off for him.

“Bloody hell,” John breathed. He moved up your body again, cock pressing into your thigh and smearing precum as he kissed your belly. “Gonna carry my baby so well. You've always been so strong and good for me. Bloody incredible woman.”

Your heart swelled with happiness at his words. Also, it didn't help your body not get aroused. You shifted, so your thighs rubbed together, but it still didn't quell your need.

John swallowed a whimper that started to escape by sealing his mouth over yours.”I know, darlin’. Gotta get you ready. You can be patient, can't you?”

“John, please,” you begged. “Just need you inside me.”

John chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sternum. You took a deep breath before you couldn’t anymore. It was always taken from you, one way or another.

“And I want to remind my wife how bloody perfect she is,” John remarked. His hand ghosted back down your body before warming between your legs. He brushed his thumb over your clit and you jolted. “Fuck. You're soaked.”

He eased a finger inside you, your walls instinctively clenching around it and trying to keep it inside. Your slick glistened on his finger, down to the very root as he slowly withdrew it. You whined at the loss when you felt his finger leave completely.

John looked you straight in the eyes as he pushed his finger into his mouth. It was dirty and attractive, and you sure your own eyes were dilated now as well. The level of attraction John made you feel was nauseating.

“You liked that? Good girl,” John crooned as he pushed the same finger back inside. This time, he started pumping it inside you, curling the tip right into the gummy spot that made you go slack.

While John worked you with that hand, the wet ‘shlick’ of your body filling the room, he ran a hand up your side. Over the soft ridges of your hip, down to the set of stretch marks that marred your flesh.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he repeated. “Love you. Love this body. For now and what it's going to give me.”

You let out a moan as his finger heated you up from the inside, sparked the burning in your core before the tension line broke. At first, tears collected in the corners of your eyes, but eventually spilled over.

“Aw, darlin’. Am I making you feel good?” John noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He was trained to assess. A hunter, a stalker, an information collector.

“Love you…” you warbled.

John's heated gaze softened. “I love you, too. Deserve to come on my fingers. Any way you want, yeah? There you go…look so good.”

The pressure was building as you started to rock your hips. John growled and added another finger. It glided in easily due to the way you were leaking. He pulled your leg wider in order to really play with you.

Your wanton moans were loud. John took a pebbled nipple into your mouth, giving your hands something to grab at as his head got closer. Your fingers ran through his scalp, pushing his mouth deep into your breast. His fingers never lost their rhythm as his thumb rolled your swollen clit beneath it.

“John!” You cried. “I'm…”

John pulled back, spit on his lips. “I know, darlin’. Feel you squeezing me. Wanna let go for me?”

You nodded. You were close, and you made sure to focus on the moment and not get too far into your head. You were quick to lose your orgasms sometimes by psyching yourself out or trying to get ahead to the next part.

Within minutes, your orgasm washed over you. John kept his fingers moving, your walls convulsing around him, until you pushed on his hand. Your legs were shaking as you panted.

“There you go…” John cooed.

He grabbed his erection, pumping his shaft a few times. He climbed over you, pushing your legs up as he maneuvered between your plush thighs. He ran his tip through your sopping folds, listening to the way your breath hitched. Your clit was throbbing, sensitive from only one orgasm.

John coated himself in your honeyed essence, groaning as you shuddered, hole clenching and trying to drag him inside. Your legs were over his shoulders, knees locked on the curve of his shoulders.

John’s eyes hooded as soon as his leaking tip caught and popped into you. He paused for a moment, blue searching for you as he composed himself. He reached up, hands cupping your face as he ran his thumbs along your lower lip. He smiled, leaning down to kiss you slowly.

His breath was shaky as he started to really push his length into your quivering hole. He shushed you quietly when you choked out a broken moan, instinctively clenching down hard on him. He grunted, chuckling with stutter.

“Bloody hell, darlin’,” he said with a lower timbre than you were used to. It was unhinged, showing just how undone he was by this moment. “Squeeze me anymore and I’m not going to get to enjoy this.”

“Jo…John. Move, please,” you pleaded.

John could never say no to you. Especially not when you were being so sweet for him. You felt him deep inside your gut, making a home in what he had already staked as his. You were irrevocably his. Something that could never change in truths. Something that would always be.

John’s hips rolled into yours, grunts escaping his lips as his breath fanned over your face. He locked onto this moment, looking deep into your eyes while his hands still cupped your face. He watched you closely, watching the minuscule ways your face shifted as he made love to you.

It wasn’t rough. It wasn’t fast. You let out soft blubbers as John hit your sweet trigger every thrust. He knew how to angle his thrusts just right to get you singing for him. He mouthed at your neck but was lazy about it. More focused on your release and hearing your sensual praises to bother with devouring you whole.

“Gonna carry our baby so well,” he spoke again. “Keep them safe in that belly of yours. Gonna take care of you for letting me fuck a baby into you.”

Your hands wandered your husband’s athletic build. He was a powerhouse, a weapon, and there was still some layer of softness about him. The pudge of his belly rubbed against your stomach, his hairy flesh slicking from sweat. Your hands moved down until you found his hips.

You traced where you knew his own stretch marks were from when he grew far too fast as a boy. You found comfort in his imperfections and wanted to worship him like he did you. He hated his stretch marks far more than you did yours sometimes.

“Give me a baby, John,” you purred when you had some semblance of control hit your scarce reserves. “Make me yours.”

You saw something snap in John at that moment, a man beneath breaking out when he sought so long to keep him contained. He paused there, cock shoved deep into your fluttering cunt and his slow kisses to your neck stilled.

“Yeah, gonna make you a mum,” he graveled. “Should really pin you down and have my way with you, eh?”

He started moving again, cock prying open your cunt with each strong thrust. He moved until his balls were pressed flush against the fat of your ass, and pulled all the way out until you complained at the way his tip barely rested inside you. His thrusts were sharp and quick, making your gasp as heavenly pleasure rocked through you.

His hands left your face and gripped your hips. He bounced you up the bed with his rough thrusts, making you cry out. John never really moaned, but his low grunts told you enough of how he felt.

You were going to come again. Your core tightened as you prepared to crash over the edge again. You were blissful, loud, and needy underneath your bear as you dug your nails into his shoulders now. You pushed up to him, hugging your body to him as much as you could.

You wanted to bind yourself to him, merge into his bones like some nasty parasite. You would die happy then. Forever entwined with one that unraveled you.

“Give it to me, darlin’,” John encouraged. “Not gonna give you a baby unless you let go.”

It didn’t take long until your coil snapped and you were toppling over the edge. Again. Your body tightened deeply, pussy desperate to milk him. John stuttered his movements, groaning as soon as he felt your walls spasming around him.

“Bloody…fuck…oh, fuck. I got you.”

It boggled your mind how John still managed to be so sweet as he pressed himself deep up to the plug of your womb, emptying his seed directly into you. Warmth filled your belly as John stopped completely and just lost himself in you.

“There you…fuck… there you go. My beautiful girl. Gotta keep me in there,” John breathed when it finally went silent. No slick sounds of his hips rutting into yours, just staggered breaths.

You were completely satisfied.

“You broken?” John checked in. He always took that seriously. Your comfort was always cherished and thought of.

“‘M good,” you mumbled.

John kissed you again, this one chaste and innocent. You relished in it, loving the many layers of your husband during sex. He was so good at switching it up, but still keeping the moment loving. Safe and protected.

“Wish I could watch it drip out of you,” John spoke. “Gotta make sure it sticks. Can’t go to waste, eh?”

“No…” you replied.

You were ready to tuck in for the night. You melted into the mattress—not quite soft, yet not too firm. It was the perfect balance for John’s back after a year of searching.

John kissed your hairline, pulling himself off of you reluctantly. You lifted your hips, trying to stop the inevitable spillage of John’s cum. You liked the feeling, in general. Knowing that it could end up with you carrying his baby made your stomach flutter.

“Such a good wife,” John praised. “Gonna clean you up now. Stay there, darlin.’”

You watched as he stood completely, admiring his body with relaxed posture. That was exactly what you needed to let go of the day’s events.

“Glad you’re home safe, Jonathan,” you mumbled.

John smiled genuinely. “Best place to be is home with you.”

And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom to grab what he needed to make sure you rested easily.

°•○●○•°

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[actuallyacat]

Vaporizes u with my beautiful blue eyes

[simonz-angel]

loser!simon who can’t even last a make out sesh 💦💦💦

your fingers splay, dipping into the soft divots of his collarbones before they’re steadying at his shoulders. the tip of your nose bends, breaths hot, heavy, suffocating the two of you as your teeth clash in a brutal kiss.

you’re tongue licks across the span of his, the pretty, pink muscle falling slack to your torment as you caress and suck. it’s lewd the noises that resonate from the slick kiss, and it has simon fuckin reeling.

his mind deepens into a trance of fogginess, fighting to keep up with the way your lips make quick work of his. he’s gasping and moaning, groaning like he’s in some sort of pain, exhausting at his vocal cords. though he is in a struggle, cock strained tight beneath his jeans, and with every rock of your hips he’s leaking into his boxers. making a damn mess of himself.

his hands fall, grabbing at the doughy, thick fat of your ass. and he’s suddenly wrenching you up almost, forcing your spine to arch up just to let his fingers slip, he’s reaching over you, letting the rough pads grab at your plush pussy, feeling the sweet sweet, puffy outline through your thin shorts.

you gasp, letting your own fingers grab at his cheeks, forcing his lips off you, you tilt his head back. you wait, watching as his blonde lashes flutter, honey eyes meeting yours. his jaw sits dropped in your palm, hot breath panting at your pretty face as he smiles lazily, unashamed of his wandering hands.

you return the quirk, leaning over him slowly to let a glistening drip of spit fall. and his eyes drop, tongue unfolding before its landing hot in the center. and he groans, eager to swallow before he’s grabbing at you in a rushed mess, kissing you messy, desperately, clinging to you tight.

“easy, baby,” you breathe into his mouth, grabbing at his throat as you push him further into couch, reminding him of his place. his hand gathers the hair at the base of your skull, fisting it tight as his chest heaves before sucking in a guttural gasp.

you can feel his hips jut, his back pull into a shuddering arch. his thighs shake gently beneath you, tongue flexing before it falls lax, jaw dropped in heaving whimpers, working himself up and through his own release.

his free hand is tight in the conjunction of your hip, thumb digging tight as he just barely rolls at your hips, settling you down against his raised hips. you’re sure you can feel the way his cock milks, twitching beneath his jeans, a stuffy overstimulating mess gathering beneath the thick material.

and when his body jerks one last time before going limp you’re all teeth, giggling as you pull yourself off his lips, relaxing back to coil a soft smirk. “that’s not what i meant when i said easy, simon.”