dix0nspretty

[dix0nspretty]

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader:3 Rough sex with Bimbo!Reader? In the woods maybe? With breeding kink, mean dom!daryl, and slight daddy/sir kink? Yes no maybe so..? Please I can’t find any good ones and I love ur writing! I was just thinking she does something stupid and he gets mad and fucks her against a tree or smth like that! Whatever you are comfortable with writing. Thank you:3

So sorry it took me a million years Anon, but I hope this is what you're looking for!

Pink Lips

Summary: Daryl's sick of hearing you run your airheaded mouth and getting into trouble, so he teaches you better.

Daryl Dixon x F!Bimbo!Reader, 2.5k words.

Era: Quarry-ish

TW: unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mean dom!Daryl, DD/lg dynamics, slaps reader once (kinky way), fucking in the woods, breeding kink, degradation mixed with praising, attempted oral (male receiving), mentions of throat training.

Why you insist on wearing the most ridiculous outfits on the planet never ceases to baffle Daryl. Flesh-eating monsters are waiting to take a bite out of anything that moves, waiting around every corner, and yet you still prance around in your short skirts and cropped tops, reapplying that pretty pink lipgloss you seem to keep a never-ending stock of. 

Shane gets a kick out of it. Of course he does, he’s a horndog. He’d drool over a rock if it showed enough skin, and you… You show more than enough.

Tantalizing long legs, smooth and graceful. A waist perfect for wrapping his hands around as he fucks what little thoughts you have right out of your head.

He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the woods in front of him and your loud footsteps at his side.

Rick, for some reason, decided that Daryl needed backup for this hunt. And he picked you, in your stupid pink skirt and white cropped tank top. Dolled up to the nines like you’re going to the club and not searching for traps.

Every step you take in your bright pink heels crunches in the dry leaves coating the forest floor, alerting any animals of your presence and driving Daryl insane. His steps are near-silent, yet you sound like a pink, glittery elephant. Heels in the woods? Fucking really? 

As if that’s not bad enough, you haven’t stopped talking since the pair of you left camp. Not even about anything important; rambling on and on about bugs and the heat and how hungry you are. 

Daryl is debating strangling you right here, already planning how to explain away why you didn’t make it back.

She wandered off and got eaten by a walker- nothing I could do.

Y/N? Fell off a cliff. 

It’s wrong. He knows it is. Really, he should be relieved that someone in the group is still holding onto the way they used to be. Seeing you still being yourself despite the horror and gore that surrounds you all should be a breath of fresh air.

If only he could get you just to shut up. For just a second, to cease your incessant, airheaded chattering. You’re busy rambling on about a bird you saw, eyes on the blue sky peeking through the canopy of trees, and maybe that’s why you don’t notice the trap you’re about to step into. 

Daryl’s quicker and more observant, and scoops you up before you can step directly into the rusted bear trap, a strong arm spinning you and pinning you to a tree regardless of your squeal.

“Shut it,” Daryl growls, his free hand grabbing your chin tight enough to squish your cheeks and directing your attention to the poorly-concealed and rusted bear trap. Your eyes widen, and he feels an unfamiliar thrill in his gut. “Y’see that? Almost walked right into that shit ‘cause you can’t keep your head outta the fuckin’ clouds. Would’ve shedded your ankle like it’s nothing.”

“I didn’t see it,” you squeak, words muffled with how hard he’s squeezing your cheeks together. 

“I’m getting sick and tired of hearing y’run that fucking mouth,” Daryl snarls, so close his breath is fanning over your face. His hand stays glued to your face, the other keeping you pinned against the rough bark of the tree with his hand on your waist. That tempting, soft skin.

Your eyes are wide, startled, and a little fearful from the aggression rolling off of him in waves. His knees pressing between your thighs, that impractical pink skirt you’re wearing exposing you to the rough denim of his jeans.

A mewl slips free, but not from fear. Daryl pauses, watching you for several silent and tense moments. Something in Daryl’s eyes shifts, frustration and aggravation shifting to confusion, before settling into something darker. His knee shifts and grinds, putting pressure against your clit and reveling in the involuntary moan you let out.

“Don’t tell me you’re wet,” he huffs. “Y’like getting roughed up, do you, sweetheart? Does this get your pussy soaked?”

“Yes,” you nod, whining when he pulls away. “Yes, sir.”

Daryl shifts your body, pinning you up on his leg so your pink heels are barely scraping the ground beneath you. “Good girl. Catch on quick when you’re paying attention, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

There’s a clink of metal, and looking down reveals Daryl opening his belt with one hand. “If you’re telling me no, say it now. I ain’t stopping jus’ from a couple tears. Yes or no, princess?”

Fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

You can’t deny how soaked the idea of Daryl fucking you against the tree is making you, your pussy wet and slick under your panties. Pink, just like everything else. You grind down on his leg, but he slaps your thigh hard enough to drag a cry from your chest. Heat blooms through the plush skin, but it only makes you want him more.

“Use your fucking words. Yes or no, brat. You haven’t shut up th’ whole day, don’t go quiet now.”

“Yes,” you sob, breaths hiccuping with need. “Yes, yes, yes, sir, yes, please.”

Daryl groans like he’s been shot, keeping you up with one hand while the other frees his cock from his briefs. “There’s a good slut, begging pretty for my cock.”

It’s not how you thought being with him would be.

Daryl hates talking. Any time he speaks, it’s either some witty, stinging comment or a grunt that’s nearly indecipherable unless you’re fluent in Daryl-speak. It makes sense to assume that’s how he’d be when fucking, not… not this dominant Sir you’re facing down, all dirty words and punishing hands.

It’s enough to make your head spin and your pussy drool all over his leg. “Good girl,” Daryl growls into your ear. “Gonna take it like a good slut, or do I need to prep you?”

“Can take it.” The whine in your voice isn’t on purpose. You can’t help it, the way he makes you feel so submissive and little under his hands. His big, rough, dirty hands, undoubtedly staining the clothes you wash so carefully, so they won’t get stained. The idea of one of his handprints permanently marking your waist, grit left on your throat from his hand… God. “Can take it, please, Daddy.”

He doesn’t give you time to prepare. The tiny scrap of soaking wet cotton is shoved away without a care, and he slams into you with one brutal thrust, forcing a ragged noise of pain and pleasure from your pink lips.

Your head thumps back against the bark with a choked sob, hair undoubtedly tangling from the friction of him fucking you against the tree. Bark scratches at the skin of your back with every rough and quick thrust. Your nails- pink, just like everything fucking else about you- claw at his shoulders in an attempt to hang on.

Daryl growls like an animal, predator teeth biting down on the crook of your neck until you’re crying. “Take it. Y’can fuckin’ take it, don’t cry like a- fuck… like a child now, girl. Daddy’s big girl, huh?”

When you whine instead of responding, trying to cope with the thick girth that’s intent on splitting you in half, Daryl squeezes your throat. Not quite hard enough to cut off your air entirely, but more than enough to get your attention. “Cock drunk already? Say it. Say you’re Daddy’s big girl. Wanna hear you moan it while I ruin this pussy for anyone else.”

“Da-” Your first attempt is cut off by a choked moan, struggling to focus around him, kissing your cervix with every relentless slap of his hips against yours, the sound cracking through the woods.

“Try again, slut,” he mutters, tightening his hand around your throat until you squeak. “‘Less you’re fucked stupid already.”

God, he’s so mean. So why are you so wet that every push and pull comes with a wet squelch, enough arousal pouring out to roll to the plushness of your ass?

“Daddy’s b-big… girl,” you eventually pant out, and are immediately rewarded with a full breath of air. Daryl’s hand strokes your throat one more time before slapping your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you even higher.

Fuck, are you gonna come already?

Daryl grins, all teeth like he’s finally caught his prey. “Good girl.”

The kiss is all teeth and aggression, his tongue lapping up your lipstick and invading your mouth like it’s his own. And maybe it is. If he asks you for anything in the world right now, you’d kill yourself trying to give it to him.

His angle shifts slightly when he readjusts you, and you nearly scream in pleasure as he grazes your G-spot. Daryl’s hips pause, letting you babble pleas for more.

“Please, don’t- don’t stop, Daddy, please, please,” you bawl. Your mascara is running down your face, sweat mixing with tears as you plead with him. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be go-ood.”

He shushes you with an almost gentle peck to your lips, cooing. “Hush, girl. That’s the sweet spot, isn’t it? Like when Daddy hits right-”

Daryl batters against that perfect spot in you, and you burst into sobbing and moaning, nodding vigorously.

“Oh, look how pretty Baby cries,” he patronizes, your back jolting against the rough bark as he settles into a rapid rhythm, allowing no reprieve from his cock. “Isn’t that so sweet? A lot better when you’re moaning ‘stead of talking. Taking dick like a good girl. Makes me wonder how sweet you’ll cry with that pretty little belly swollen with my kid.” Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck.

The idea of Daryl breeding you, knocking him up with his kid… it should make you pause. You should tell him to stop, to pull out. You’re not even together, he can’t just impregnate you with his baby.

So why are you cumming on his cock instead, wailing in ecstasy?

Your ears ring with how hard your back arches, nails undoubtedly clawing his biceps bloody as your eyes roll back and your legs tremble around his waist. All you can see, all you can feel is him. Him, him, him. “God, you’re gorgeous when y’cum,” Daryl presses rough kisses to your jawline, stubble scraping your skin. His hips don’t slow once as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Glowin’ like this now. Wait til I fill that womb with my seed, pretty girl. See how you glow when you’re carryin’ a little Dixon- fuck-”

Hot, sticky cum floods your womb, his hips losing their rhythm as he works to plant his seed as deep as it’ll go.”Feel your pussy fluttering? She’s hungry. ‘S okay, I’ll feed her.”

He shushes your overstimulated mewling with a growl against your lips, kissing you like it’s a claim. 

He’s all but licked your lipgloss clean off, the slippery barrier gone as he bites meanly at your bottom lip. Daryl grins when you cry at the slight pain and takes the opportunity to lap into your mouth. The kiss only breaks when you’re both panting for air, dizzy with post-orgasmic haze. 

“I’m not done with you,” Daryl pants into your ear, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin by your earring. He slides out of you with a dirty, slick pop, leaving your body empty and wanting for more. “Still gotta fix that mouth of yours. Y’chirp more than a fucking bird.” He lets you down on the ground, one hand pressing on your shoulder to shove you to your knees in leaves damp with the mix of your releases. Daryl smears the tip of his dick across your cheeks, dodging the tongue you unthinkingly stick out as he smudges what remains of your makeup and replacing it with his cum.

The sight of you on your knees, flushed and panting, eyes hazy with submission and face coated in him? It’s enough to make Daryl want round two, and three, and as many as he can get through before he collapses.

You look up to his face instinctively, submissive and needy even as he defiles the makeup you spent so long getting just right. When your tongue slips free in an attempt to taste him, a rough hand buries into your hair and yanks, painful but so delicious. Another moan slips out.

“Bad girl. Did I tell you you could taste?” Daryl’s voice comes out in a dark growl. He waits until you shake your head no before his hand eases, massaging your scalp. You hum happily, nuzzling into his hand like a kitten desperate for affection. “You’re gonna listen t’Daddy and suck my cock like the whore I know you are. Understand?” “Und’stand, Daddy,” you slur. He looks so fucking good. The blue of his irises look more like a thunderstorm, and the sheer dominance and control he’s radiating makes your thighs clench around the filth dripping out of you. 

“Dirty little girl. Bet you’ll cum just like this, won’t you? So fucking needy for my cock, huh? Open wide.”

“Ah,” you stick your tongue out, unfocused eyes glued to his face as he feeds you inch after slick inch. You gag before he’s even halfway down your throat, and to your surprise, pulls back to allow you a moment. Drool and the remainder of his cum connects your mouth to the red and angry head of his dick.

“Breathe through it,” he mutters, tapping his knuckle under your chin like a parent trying to cheer their kid up. “Through your nose, relax your throat. Do I need t’ throat-train you, baby?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head back and forth, despite the answer being the opposite. You’re by no means a virgin, but you’ve never given head for a man as… well-endowed as Daryl. “Just big, Daddy.”

That was clearly the right thing to say, judging by the smirk on his face. “Yeah? Too big for those pretty pink lips?”

You shake your head and go in for a second try. He gets a little further with you using his advice, but you still gag before you can get past the halfway mark. Tears of frustration burn in your eyes, and he coos patronizingly as he pats your sticky cheek. “Aww. Don’t cry, baby girl. Daddy will train you t’take it all the way if you’re good enough. You’re a quick learner, aren’t ya, princess?”

“Yes’ir,” you sniffle. “Wanna be good for Da-addy. Wanna- wanna help.”

He laughs, and it’s dark enough to make you shiver. How can this angry man be so cool and collected, so relaxed like this? It’s an entirely different side to Daryl, and you never want to stop seeing it.

“How’s about we get y’home, an’ cleaned up? Then we’ll see how good that soft throat of your can be when properly trained. I’ve got endless patience, baby,” He kneels, closer to your eye level. Daryl’s hand smooths sweaty hair back from your face, and he looks almost gentle like this. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful when you’re ruined.”

[dix0nspretty]

DELICIOUS WHY DIDNT I GET THIS TREATMENT WHEN I GOT MY NIPPLES PIERCED????

Also ow omg the thought of all that going on right after… I fear I would’ve fainted

tattoo artist!simon, who is also your boyfriend, can’t help but pierce your pretty tits

the tattoo parlor is empty except for the two of you. you’re spread out on the leather chair, thighs trembling, already aching for him. his thick fingers trace the curve of your nipple, pinching just enough to make you gasp. "gonna make these even prettier," he murmurs, voice rough. "wanna see you squirm when the needle goes in."

you whimper, but the sound gets caught in your throat when his other hand slides between your legs, fingers pushing into your cunt without warning. "fuck, you’re soaked," he growls, curling them just right, making your hips jerk. "knew you’d get off on this."

he pulls away to sanitize his hands and snap on a pair of black latex gloves. you breath audibly hitches as he presses the needle against your pebbled nipple.

"that’s it, baby," he coos, dark amusement in his voice. "hurts so good, doesn’t it?" your nails dig into the leather as he pierces deeper, the pain mixing with the throbbing pleasure between your thighs. "s’too much—"

"no it’s not," he interrupts, "you love it. love how much i ruin you." his thumb circles your newly pierced nipple, pushing in the barbell and you sob, your cunt clenching around nothing. "gonna make you come just from this. just from a little pain."

you shake your head, but your body betrays you, hips rolling desperately against his thigh. simon leans down, his breath hot on your ear. "think you can take my cock while i do the other one?"

before you can answer, he’s unbuckling his belt, his thick cock slapping against your thigh. "fuck—"

"exactly," he grins, lining himself up. "gonna ease the pain, sweetheart." he pushes in with one brutal thrust, stretching you impossibly wider, and you scream, back arching off the chair. "there you go," he groans, bottoming out. "fuck, you’re tight."

the needle hovers over your other nipple. "hold still," he orders, and then he’s piercing you again, this time while his cock is buried to the hilt. you sob, overwhelmed, but he doesn’t stop fucking you, each thrust jolting your body, making the pain sharper, brighter. "s’good, isn’t it?" he rasps. "hurts so fucking good."

you nod frantically, nails raking down his arms. "y-yes—"

"knew you’d like it," he growls, his pace turning punishing. "love how your cunt grips me when it hurts." you cry out a sob as he pushes in the new jewelry. "gonna come all over my cock like this?"

you can’t even answer, too lost in the way he’s wrecking you, the pain and pleasure blurring together. your nipples throb, your cunt aches, and simon fucks you through it all, his hips slamming into yours. "that’s it," he snarls, feeling you clench around him. "come for me, baby. let me feel it."

your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, violent and all-consuming, your scream muffled against his shoulder. simon doesn’t stop, chasing his own release, his thrusts turning erratic. "gonna fill you up," he grunts. "gonna mark you inside and out."

with a final, deep grind, he spills into you, his groan raw against your skin. for a moment, the only sound is your ragged breathing, his weight heavy on top of you. then he pulls back, admiring his work—your pierced nipples, your wrecked cunt, the way you’re still trembling beneath him.

"next time," he murmurs, voice low and rough, "i’ll tattoo my name right here while you're on my cock." his thumb brushes over your sternum, pressing just enough to make you shiver. "so everyone knows who you belong to."

[dix0nspretty]

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.”

[dix0nspretty]

Gorgeous SAS man’s voice and the fucking muscle memory in his movements…

even the instructor forgot how to speak

[dix0nspretty]

He’s so baby, I adore him

Airing Simon Riley

He’s such a baby. And he can’t text.

Simon isn’t really big on texts. The occasional love heart sent your way between clashes while he’s deployed. When he’s home, a funny video or two. Perhaps a cheeky sext when you’re working late.

You always message him though. Thoughtfully thinking of little ways to brighten his day, a photo of a pansy with little patterned black and white leaves turning to the sun, or a picture of your coffee shared with the hope he’ll be home soon.

Does Simon relish the thought of your virtual offerings? Probably not. But still, you miss him. Even a picture of you in your nicest bra and panties might only get a cursory “I’ll take em off with my teeth later…” if he’s feeling frisky.

It’s fine. Really it is. Until the inside of your lip is chewed and anxiety starts to gather in the seams of your mind. One of your friends tells you it’s odd he has no social media, that it’s a red flag his digital footprint is bathed in shadows and secrets. No school reunion photos, or any evidence he exists at all.

But you suffer in silence. Until one day, you don’t text him good morning, or goodnight. The day spans silently between you both, quietly confirming that nagging doubt that he really isn’t interested in the cat that sometimes visits the entryway of your apartment.

Strange how that lack of something can be so loud. It echos, rings in all the corners of your psyche that wanted to be reassured. Only when you’re deep within the cave of isolation, do you realise how honestly you miss the light of the sun.

Two days pass. A full bloody moon rises and begins to blink across your living room, before you hear the slam of the front door. It makes you jump, twitching in your skin as though you’re suddenly uncomfortable in it. A heavy bag is deposited somewhere on the floor, while the metal on it twinkles innocently in the low light.

One heavy boot step, then another.

“Hi!” You smile at him softly.

Simon just glares at you, dark brown eyes seething pits. Two thick arms get crossed over his chest, the greyscale, faded ink under his skin bristling. His hair is tousled, the usual buzz cut a little grown out. Shadows wedged beneath hollowed sockets reminiscent of things that weigh heavily, more than one lifetimes worth of grief to bear.

“I didn’t expect you this early…” Trying again seems logical, even though the sternness in his face should raise alarm. Simon lets out a short chuffing nose, rolling his shoulders along with those ash framed, whiskey coloured irises.

Blinking at him, you wait.

“There’s dinner in the—”

“Is it over?” He rasps, quietly before you can finish. You notice then that he’s paler than usual, his freckles dotted against milky skin.

“Huh?! Is what over?” Perplexed, your mouth opens with a pop.

“Us - this.” Simon gestures between you jerkily, heavyset and blunted fingers that could eclipse yours shaking slightly. “This your way of finishin with me?”

You’re so shocked, for a second all you can do is look blank. Simon sniffs like he’s holding himself together with brute force and clenched teeth. His hand falls to his side limply, jaw working as though chewing something intensely unpleasant.

“You didn’t text me.” He grunts finally, when you’ve caught a few flies through sheer incredulity. “Two days I ain’t had a peep. Not of the cat or nothin. Expected a fucking dear John letter left on the kitchen counter.”

He actually scuffs his boots on the floor restlessly, a little boy about to throw an almighty tantrum. Usually he’s so restrained, operating under a fine layer of almost icy disregard. His bottom lip pouts and the wild urge to giggle makes you clench your own teeth.

“You like my cat pictures?!” It’s about the only thing you can manage to leverage off your tongue.

“Yeah I do actually.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise…”

“Like anythin you send me. Specially tha voice notes n’ videos.” Finally the truth starts to unravel, while you both gaze at one another. “Have I fucked up? Why ain’t you been talkin to me?”

“Well…I wasn’t sure if you even read them to be honest! Also it gets boring having a one sided conversation sometimes Simon!” Defensiveness leeches into your tone, while he tilts his head, the scar slicing through his upper lip drawn tight.

“Alright. What do I have to reply then?”

“Pardon?”

“What do I have to reply to get you to send more?” Earnestly he stares at you, and the desire to laugh madly starts to make your throat hurt.

“Are you being serious?!”

“Deadly.” He replies without hesitation.

“You don’t have to reply! But just a thumbs up emoji would do fine.”

“How do I do tha?” He frowns at you, brows knitting in the middle. “Send ya a photo or somethin of my hand?”

You can’t hold it in anymore, a snort of laughter escapes and bubbles in the air. Once that’s out, several more follow, until he looks entirely hurt at the sound of it.

“Don’t fuckin laugh. M’all pent up. Been worried sick about it.”

“Oh my fucking god Simon come here!”

He doesn’t even take off his boots, crawling into your lap on the couch, resting his head on your chest like a huge, black clad weighted blanket.

“I wouldn’t leave you a letter on the kitchen counter.” You tell him gently, while his breathing regulates. “I’d FaceTime you at least before I posted my key through the letterbox.”

“S’not funny.” He mumbles and gradually your laughter subsides.

“Don’t ever think I ain’t interested in you. S’been shite wakin up without your messages.”

“I’m sorry! You can have all the cat pictures you want going forwards!”

“Slip a few of you in ya knickers in too, ta?”

[dix0nspretty]

sometimes you do forget that the general population doesn't necessarily find a guy cumming prematurely in his pants hot

[dix0nspretty]

I can be so Normal

control pt ii | simon "ghost" riley

cw. pet play, age gap, needy! reader, teasing, dumbification, established relationship

synopsis. you remind simon a lot of an untamed puppy in need of self-control

masterlist

this is a continuation. pt i will be linked here!

the second you finish gulping down his cum, you leap back into his lap, eager to be rewarded for your hard work. you wriggle in place eagerly, dragging your soaked pussy over his now half hard cock that's glistening and oversensitive. you don't even care how you just had an orgasm and that you're sensitive, you want him inside now.

"si- please fuck me, please," you beg, voice cracking. "i was so good! didn't you see? i earned it!"

he sighs at your constant yipping at him and his hands land on your waist, not to pull you down but to hold you off. you freeze, big, glassy eyes blinking dumbly at him. you try to roll your hips, but he holds you so tightly that you can't. you're immediately upset, and that sentiment grows tenfold when he lifts you up off him to tuck his cock back into his pants, zipping them up and looking over to see your distraught little face.

"what?" you stammer, trying to reach for his belt again. "no, no, no! what're you doing?"

"oh, you want more cock?" he drawls, leaning back casually on the couch. "now that you've had a taste?"

"i was good!" you repeat, face scrunched, clawing at his thick thighs. "i drank it! i showed you-"

"you were sloppy," he says calmly. "and outta control. not the good pup i trained you to be."

you whine, attempting to grind down on him again, but he blocks your hips with both hands once more, squeezing firmly.  "no more rutting. my cock's away now, pup. y'missed your window."

you whine, lips curled in a pout. he swears if you had puppy ears, they'd be pinned back in agitation. your tail would be limp at your side.

simon laughs at you, tilting his head. "poor little pup. all that effort, and still no cock in ya." he grins, getting a sick pleasure out of your agony. "maybe if you beg some more i'll let you rub your sloppy pussy on one of y'pillows."

you whine, not able to handle the teasing right now. you're having a full meltdown, cheeks wet, thighs sticky, but you don't care. you just want cock.  "simon please, you said, you said i could have it! why're you lying to me?"

"you're so fucking spoiled," he mutters. "it's pathetic." he reaches up to grip the nape of his neck and makes you look at him. "do you even know what you're saying? you're begging for cock like it's oxygen. like your little cunt can't go a single day without getting stuffed full."

without waiting for you to respond, he reaches one hand down to press his hand into the mess between your thighs. you squeal, hips jolting up like you've been electrocuted, grinding down immediately on his palm. he slips two fingers into your panties. "damn," he mutters. "you are soaked."

simon leans in closer to you, lips nudging yours but not applying pressure. he swallows up your moans when he curls his fingers inside you, just resting inside so you can take the stretch of his thick digits. when you do, he rewards you with a soft, mocking kiss to the corner of your lips, not a long, deep one like you want. "you're just so stupid, puppy." he whispers, "so fucking dumb for my prick, y'can't even think straight."

he pumps his fingers in you, curling and twisting and burrowing them inside your sensitive pussy knuckle deep, then pulling out just to the tips of his fingers and uses them to push down on your gummy walls.

"oh fuck, simon-" you keen, thrashing as he begins to lay you on the couch, flipping you onto your tummy, purposefully forbidding you from looking at him, he scissors his fingers inside you from behind while your face is stuffed into the cushions, hips twitching and moans leaving your mouth. then suddenly he tugs his fingers out of you just as you feel yourself getting close to cumming again. "no!"

you're about to complain some more, loudly and with lots of whining, until he mutters, "easy, pup. 'm givin' ya your treat." then unzips his jeans and shuffles them down once more, pushing his boxers down along with them so his fat cock bobs up and slaps his tummy.

again, his cock is fat and swollen up from arousal, even though he came just a few minutes ago. you lift your ass in the air, presenting for him like a good puppy. you're shameless, excited to feel the delicious stretch of his tip notching into your hole, pushing past your plush walls and filling you to the hilt, but instead... all he does is slap it against your cunt.

you jolt out of shock, clit pulsing from the contact. your slick coats the head of his cock after it hit your dripping folds. you lean back, trying to chase his dick and get him to put it in you, but his hand presses you against the couch, stern and unforgiving.

"down." he orders firmly.

he drags the head of his cock along your slit again, slow, lazy. you gasp, thighs trying to close around him, but he knocks them apart and slaps his tip against you again.

you yelp, body jumping forward as again, you weren't anticipating the move. "please," you gasp. "please, just put it in, si" you sob, tears coming down hot and wet down the sides of your face. your whole body's heaving, hands clenching around nothing while your hips rut uselessly, trying to find his.

his cock rests against your cunt, not inside, but pressed flat between your asscheeks and against your holes, heavy and hot. he rocks the heavy shaft up and down, thrusts shallow and slow. he's using you, grinding against your soaked, swollen cunt like he's warming up. dragging the head over your clit and back down to your folds, slapping the head against them and listening to the nasty squelching sounds they make.

"simon! please," you moan loudly. "i can't do this anymore, put it in-"

"quiet," he responds, still dragging it back and forth, head catching on your entrance and then slipping back up, never going in fully.  " 'm givin' ya what you asked for, pup." he pushes just the tip in just enough for you to feel it breach, stretch... and then pulls it right back out.

you're sobbing loudly at this point, while he's painfully nonchalant, voice reduced to heavy puffs of air leaving his lips, or soft whispers of  "mm...fuck" and "shit... so tight,"

he tilts his head, admiring your teary, red cheeks. he way you're begging with snot leaking from your nose and your face blotchy with tears. then, finally, he pushes the head of his cock to your soaked, swollen entrance, the heat of his throbbing cock making your cunt drool. slowly, he presses inside, stretching you open steadily, and to your relief, he doesn't stop at the tip.

your whole body arches, hands squeezing into fists as he slides in inch by inch. his cock is so thick that your walls stretch to take him in and flutter around his girth. when he's just barely halfway in, you mewl, scrambling up onto your hands and knees before he can push you down, and you flip onto your back.

your thighs snap shut behind him like a trap, ankles hooking at the small of his back, heels digging in so he can't pull away, so he can't tease you anymore. he'd slipped out a little during your flip, but you'd ensure to grab his length and put him back inside you, moaning loudly. "oh simon!"

simon pauses and looks down at you, panting and groaning at the new angle and the way he can now see your face in all it's entirety. "haa fuckin' hell, you are done bein' teased, huh?" he grins, leaning over you, planting a hand by your head. "little pup finally grew a spine."

you nod frantically, nails digging into his shoulders. "stay, simon. stay, stay, stay-"

he leans down closer to you. "alright, alright," he says, giving you a peck on the lips. "silly lil' mutt." and then he pushes all the way in all at once.

your mouth drops open and your whole body seizes. the moment he bottoms out and his thick cock finally fills you, hitting that deep spot and stretches you completely open, you gush around him. with no warning, you release on his cock just from him filling you all the way. the teasing must've triggered the hell out of you. you sob, pussy squeezing around him in tight pulses. you swear your vision goes sparkly for a second.

"oh, fuck me." simon groans, feeling you clamp down on his cock and squeeze your plush walls around him. "you just came? from that?"

you nod. you're drooling a little, still super floaty from cumming for the second time already and creating a wet mess between the two of you where his cock enters you. you've soaked his pelvis with your juices. "it's your cock," you whisper,  "i needed it so bad, simon, i told you i needed it."

he pants, hips grinding deeper as he grinds his tip into your gummy insides. "bloody hell, puppy." he tuts. "one stroke and you lose your fuckin' mind."

even as you're shaking and crying from how hard you just came, you're still clinging to him, nails dragging down his back. your body won't stop trembling and curling in on itself like you're trying to escape but there's nowhere to go. you're too full.

simon's fucking you so slow with cruel, lazy thrusts. he drags his cock out of you achingly deep and slow. then, he presses back inside just as slow, letting you feel every ridge, vein, and thick inch of him all over again. "simon!" you gasp, voice cracking, pitifully. "i can't, i can't, it's too much,"

he braces one arm beside your head and reaches out to grab your thigh with his other hand, spreading you open further and pushing your knee up to your chest, fingers bruising into your skin where he holds you wide for him. "you're takin' it jus' fine. look at you, y' pussy's fuckin' gripping me."

you clench around him each time he pulls back and then slide his cock back inside. every time he sinks inside you to the hilt, you cry out, lips parting with messy, high pitched moans leaving your mouth. simon reckons you sound like you're in a porn video.

every slow thrust hits deep inside you, messy cunt stretched wide around him, walls swollen and slick, the squelch of each slow thrust. if you had the brainpower to feel embarrassed right now, you'd feel a little shy at the way he's cooing down at you and mimicking your mewls, or the sound of his cock shoving into your soaked hole. but you don't have any intelligence left at this point, too focused on the relief of finally having him inside, while also wanting him to go harder and faster.

"si, I feel full," you babble, "can't…can't take it but- mmh! i need it, i need more, please, simon, i want more!"

he snorts and fucks into you with a particularly rough stroke that lands his tip right against your cervix, tip kissing the deepest part inside you. "which -haa, fuuuck- do you want, pup? more or less? do you even know what you're asking for?"

"i dunno," you slur, reaching for his face. "please don't stop!"

he huffs a laugh, nuzzling his nose against your jaw. his lips move over to your ear, and he whispers to you. "be my good little pup and lay there and take your cock."

you whine, nodding, babbling again. "i love it! i love your cock, i love it, i love it, i love you!"

"fuck, i love y'too, dumb girl. " he groans, hand sliding under your ass to hoist you up. and fuck into you from a new angle. you squeal and flail a little, but he doesn't let up or let you hide, even with how sensitive you are. your thighs are still shaking and your cunt is sore and messy from coming already. despite that, your hips are still twitching, rolling up to meet every one of his deep, pounding thrusts.

he lets out loud, breathy groans. both his huge hands bracket your hips, gripping hard, slamming into you. he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head in one hand, holding you down completely. with the other, he reaches between your bodies and presses his palm flat on your belly right where he's deepest, right where you can feel the outline of him inside you.

you scream.

"look at that," he grits. "see how deep i am? feel that?" he fucks into you so hard and fast that your whole body rocks beneath him. the only thing keeping you coherent is the stretch of his cock, the weight of him holding you down and the deep, brutal pace he's set. "you're mine."

you make a weepy moan at the thick drag of his cock inside you, stretching you open, beating your poor cunt into submission. "gonna fuckin'- fuck, pup, i'm gonna cum," he grits out, sweat dripping off his brow down to your cheek.

"inside," you plead. "please! inside me, please fill me up, si!"

he slams into you deeper than you thought possible, your whole body curling into itself as he cums hard. thick seed coming flooding your womb in a ridiculously copious amount. your hands scrabble weakly against his chest, your cunt squeezing around him like you're trying to milk him dry.

he keeps going even as he comes. he stays buried in you, locked tight, grinding deep into you to make sure none of it escapes. he wants every last drop to flood your womb. he only pulls out once he's sure it'll take, then he pulls out.

you sob at the loss, twitching when his cock slips from your stretched, messy hole, leaving you gaping and dripping and ruined. his cum follows, thick and warm and so much of it, spilling out of you in a hot, sticky stream that coats your thighs and the couch cushions below you. as if he didn't make a filthy mess of you, he scoops you up for a bath, pecking your forehead. "such a good puppy."

[dix0nspretty]

I need him, your honor

Alone Time

John Price x F!reader CW: Sexual content, BDSM, consensual restraint, mildly suggestive language.

Your husband, God bless him, doesn’t always know how to deal with you, which, to be fair, is completely valid.

To understand his exasperation with your general aura and personality, you must first understand Johnathan Price. As an SAS captain, he’s had enough danger, excitement, and spontaneity to satiate him for the rest of his life.

This is what had originally attracted you to him, truthfully: how peaceful he made your life. No dramatic arguments, no real issues, actually. Sure, he’s a tad controlling, but it’s nothing overbearing, and truth be told, you never minded giving him that control. It’s no surprise the wedding happened so quickly after meeting; who wouldn’t give up today’s very questionable dating scene in favor of a man who finds whiskey and the newspaper “fascinating”?

Despite what most may consider ‘boring,’ you love your husband and his strange little interests. You think he must feel the same way about you, but in reverse: you’re the woman who barks at men in the pub just to weird them out enough to leave you alone; the woman who puts karaoke on the TV just to make him laugh; the woman who says things like, “How do we feel about me learning the harmonica?” and “What if I turned into a chicken… what would you do?”

He adds peace to your life; you add some much-needed energy to his. Your husband’s ‘boring’ nature, however, does not extend to the bedroom, because thank God, he was neither shocked nor put off when the third brown Amazon box this week showed up to your home.

“What’s that?” he hummed from his spot on his recliner, blowing out a plume of smoke as the words left his lips.

“Straps for the bed,” you said nonchalantly. Any embarrassment you may have once had pertaining to sex left your head a long time ago.

“Good purchase, love.” He chuckled and smiled. You knew that look: he was going to put that to good use. And good use he did. That evening, you two thoroughly tested the restraints, had what was honestly probably some of the best sex of your life, and knocked the fuck out.

The straps, your new favorite toy for the time being, got broken in a few more times in the next few weeks before you both inevitably lost a little interest. Despite the fact they hadn’t been used in over a month now, they still remain attached to your bed. “Just keep ’em there,” John had said. You figured maybe he planned on having one of those days he plays a little rough in the near future and left them. However, you were incredibly deceived.

Because your husband, while he loves your wild nature, also values his alone time, and he found his way to get it.

“Lovie,” John’s voice called from the bedroom. He typically doesn’t have to call more than once; that loud, deep voice could get anyone’s attention. So you made your way up the stairs to your shared bedroom, only to find John standing beside the bed.

“C’mere,” he said, the sound deep in the back of his throat. As you walked up to him, to put your hands on his bare, hairy chest, he lifted you, surprising you a bit, but you definitely were not complaining. You let out a little squeak as he placed you on the bed.

For a moment, your interest was quite piqued when you watched him grab hold of one of the straps to fasten it around your wrist. He hadn’t undressed your clothes, but you figured maybe that was part of the game.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

You lay there, waiting patiently as he tightened all four straps. You didn’t speak much, just watched him. However, what was turning into excitement died and turned into confusion as he grabbed the remote to the telly once he’d adequately had your hands cuffed.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, the confusion visible on your face.

“Bunny rabbit,” he began with a little smirk, a mischievous look on his face that you very rarely see.

“Yes, sir?” you asked, laughing at him just a little bit, more out of amusement or confusion than anything else.

“I have been trying to read that book for three weeks. Do you know why I can’t?” he asked you. His question had no genuine irritation or anger; his words were followed by soft laughs.

“No?” you asked. If you were being honest, you hadn’t even realized he didn’t finish that book yet.

“Well, I can’t concentrate, because you’ve been humming that song nonstop, and I can’t focus… so I’ve come up with a solution. I’m gonna turn on a movie, and you’re gonna stay here until I finish my book.” He smiled. Both you and he knew that if he had just asked you to stop humming, you would’ve. Clearly, this was fun for him. You weren’t in any harm, you weren’t upset, so you decided to go along with it. It’s been forever since you’ve actually sat down and watched a movie anyway.

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious, rabbit.” And so, through your giggles, you watched as he checked the straps, turned on some ’90s movie, and left the room. Actually, you ended up falling asleep in the middle of the movie, but John finished his book.

Only John would think to use the sex toy you bought just to get some alone time.

CoD Masterlist

[dix0nspretty]

when he fucks you, simon's usually just a panter. some grunts might find a way to slip their way out of him but he's gotten adept in keeping quiet, focused on hearing you and your noises and how to make them that much louder–that is, until the first time he fucks you raw.

after that, he's crumbling. trapping you in between the mattress and his heavy-as-a-ton mass of a figure, giving you little to no time to breathe in between the deepest stroke he can manage.

your shoulder is a mess of his sweat and drool as ghost pounds himself into you, groaning and whimpering at how he can feel every single soaking twitch and warm hug of your walls. how you leak and cream out so much your arousal that it mixes with his and splatters between the two of your jerking bodies. his accent slurs into something unintelligible, sounding worse than drunk whenever he speaks, most of his words either thick swears or shaking croaks of your name.

he cries and clutches you and wails so loud that you can no longer hear the thump of the bed against the wall when simon comes, stuffing you with a gushing load he just uses as lube to keep his thrust. completely intoxicated by you, simon can't quit. you just feel too good and he's too wrecked to not indulge.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[dix0nspretty]

Forfeit

or: you and Country!Simon get in an argument and he fucks the anger away.

cw: 3.3k wrds, 18+ mdni, smut with little plot, jealous!simon, no use of y/n, married!reader (to Simon), angry sex, p in v, creampie, cunnilingus, pussy pronouns and slaps, back shots, cowgirl, nipple play, exhibitionism (if you squint), outdoor sex, daddy kink (papa/pa), breeding kink, country!simon, lucky!reader.

a/n: forfeit by Kiana Ledé was my inspo

It’s not that your friends were bad, quite the opposite really, they were great and easily welcomed your husband into the group even though he was on the quieter side. They’d come from the city to congratulate you on the marriage since just your two best of friends came to the wedding.

It was your friend, Vee, her boyfriend that didn’t know his fucking place.

He saw the way you looked at Simon, all heart eyed and yearning for his approval. And Simon’s pretty seafoam orbs would dance all over you, to your pretty face, to your lips to your chest and back to your dark mocha eyes and pretty skin, give you a smile under his skull bandana that no one would understand but you. And Simon would just know you were blushing because you’d look away with smiling harder than ever, squeezing his arm as you continued conversation with your friends—

God, Simon was in love with you. Could’ve done anything for you.

Would’ve beat the breaks off your friends boyfriend if he was alone for a second.

It couldn’t be more obvious that you were a happily married and taken woman. But that stupid bastard couldn’t keep his eyes up, continued to ask about you brushing off Simon, and to top it off you were acting like it wasn’t happening. Still entertaining conversation with him, laughing— giggling.

“Where did you two meet? I’m suprised a city girl like you would move so far just to live in the country.” The fool asked in the middle of conversation, cutting you off from talking about some story from college.

Strike two.

“O-Oh, we’ve known each other since we were younger—“

“—We fucked like dogs right in that old barn when we re-introduced ourselves though.” Simon doesn’t miss a beat. He’s not really one for white lies and he doesn’t care if the truth hurts.

He’ll be as crass as he wants to prove a point. Your friend’s boyfriend, the idiot, was staring too hard. Simon doesn’t mind when people looked, you were as pretty as rain. Curves nice as ever, that jaw dropping smile, pretty brown eyes and curls he loved to play with no matter how long or short. His drop dead gorgeous baby, married to him in the backwoods. Heavy on his.

Heat rushed through your whole body, embarrassment, while your friends squealed in excitement. Your friend Shauna teased, “[+], I didn’t know you were such a naughty girl.”

You washed it down with a sip of wine though, a playful smack to your husbands shoulder— a warning— “Nothins wrong with a little fun. Right Simon?” You emphasized his name. The first time you’d said it all night.

Five and a half times in that barn, but who’s counting?

The wild man gave a cheeky grin, “Course Darlin.”

More squeals from your friends, they thought Simon was right out of a movie. A dream man. He was.

Not when he was acting territorial.

When dinner finally rolled around Vee’s boyfriend, Samuel hate this whore, offered to help. It was the touching that was an issue. The sly touch to your back when he was moving around you, how he kept trying to brush fingers and you’d jerk your hand away— he’d knock the poor boys head off. Simon swooped in of course, told Samuel it’d be best if he sat, ‘let the man ‘f the house handle it’ while wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you a little closer as you held the baked duck in your hands.

strike fucking three.

Thankfully, everyone was tired after their long plane ride down and the wonderful dinner you prepared. You sent them off with a tight smiles and big waves, yelling how you couldn't wait till tomorrow to show them around.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🍀 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Simply put, Simon never liked arguing inside the house.

Didn’t matter if it was cold or raining outside. He’d rather take it on that porch. Get out everything that needed to be said, even if he was giving you a spanking— he didn’t want that energy festering inside the house. Apologizing could be done there or in the house but don’t hold a grudge.

Ever since he’d been with you, the house was truly the definition of one of those wall decorations that said, ‘home sweet home.’ Peaceful, loving, quiet. The method Simon had you two so hung up on, worked.

Any anger or irritation got left at the door. You’re mad? Go for a walk or figure it out on the porch.

You’ve really only had a few arguments since your short time together, little things and could be resolved before they could even begin erupting. Nothing like this, that had you scrapping food off dishes to harshly and putting them in the dish water and washing the poor dishes so roughly.

Simon leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow raised, bandana that once covered his face sitting on the counter.

“You gonna break the dishes if you keep doin it like that.”

You mumbled, shaking your head, completely incoherent, “Fuck off.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said, fuck off!” you yelled, placing the dish in your hand ever so gently on the drying wrack.

You laugh, nothing but sarcastic, “Why did you have to talk to him like that, huh? He was being friendly! Everyone was havin a good time!”

“Did you not see the way he was talking ‘nd ogling his damn eyes at you the whole night? Son of a bitch acted like he wasn’t looking at a married woman!” Simon scuffed.

“He was not!”

“[+] you can’t be fuckin—“ The older man cuts himself off. Takes in a deep breath— get to that porch. He grits, “Come on, let’s talk.”

You know exactly what he means, you know he really isn’t asking. But you’re unmoving, simply continue the rest of the dishes in the sink.

“No.”

“What?”

“I said, no! How many times do I gotta fuckin repeat myself tonight?! I don’t wanna do your talkin on the porch shit! I wanna finish the damn dishes and go to sleep on my side of the bed! You listen to everybody but me! Your fuckin wife--“ Simon doesn’t let you finish, just manages to get you over his shoulder. The utensils you had in your hand clanging to the floor as you slap at his back, shouting and thrashing to get out his arms.

You land on your feet when Simon puts you down on that hard wood of the wrap around porch. You shove at his chest, “You think you can just move me as you fuckin please, Riley!? I’m a person! A human being!”

“A human bein, I’ll move again if I fuckin want to till you fuckin get it in your big ass head-“

“—I do not!—“

“—You’re big ass head,” he repeated, “that, that idiot was fuckin flirtin with you! Lookin at you like a meal on a silver platter, kept tryin to touch up on you with his own damn girlfriend sitting next to ‘em! And ya went ‘nd encouraged-“

“—Don’t fuckin lie Simon! I would never encourage anyone to- to flirt with me! And the whole night I was lookin at you! Could barely get a handle on myself because I’m hung up on the likes of you!” You poked at his chest. He knew you were right, you’d never do anything like that, not even if the thought graced your mind.

You were a gorgeous little thang, any man with working or non working eyes would fawn over you just from your kindness alone, your pretty voice too. But for someone to do it so blatantly. Do it while Simon was right there. Oh, he hated it.

“Just fuckin admit it, you’re fuckin jealous! I don’t why you wanna pick a fight with me when you should be mad at your damn self for acting like that.”

Oh the unruly thing— to speak the truth on jealousy.

Forfeit the fight and apologize.

Simon’s hands clenched and unclenched, chest heaving up and down— he chose the latter.

Let him show you how you were his and his alone, right on that porch. He’d think of an apology mid fuck, say sorry once or twice and say it again to you tomorrow. Proper, make you breakfast and talk all soft how you like. Make you squirm in your seat with kisses on your neck till you shrug and whisper, ‘I-I guess Mr. Riley.’

Fuck, you were so damn cute. Couldn't keep his hands off you.

Till then, he’d bend you over while he sat in one of the rocking chairs. Hike that pretty white skirt up to your hips while bringing your mushy mess of clothed pussy right to his face.

How’d he do all that so quickly? Well it’s quiet easy when your both a little mad, a little cynical in your own right— so pissed off that you both need to “cool off” your own emotions. Rub one out.

That southern man would yank you close by the hip with his large hand and plant a kiss on your needy two tone lips. Roughly intertwining your mouths, if you’d interject (or tried to get another word out), he’d slap your ass a few times. Enough to get a moan out of you, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up.’ You’ll stumble over to the chair together and he’ll spin you around, do what he has to do.

And God, did he loooove fucking you on that wrap around porch. Whether it be at the end of a long work day or right after the chickens crowed on his day off that had to be spent with you and no one else.

Mouth salivating, Simon ripped apart your white cotton panties in two, with a cut pink bow and embroidered with Mrs. Riley on them, causing you to yelp out, swatting at his shoulder while he spread your pussy lips apart. Staring at the glistening pink mess only he could see, only he could create.

“So gorgeous mama. Ruinin this underwear, who’s all this for?”

He whispers, not to you, not to himself, to God— ‘Thank you for the meal’ he’d give your cunt a sweet peck before letting his flat tongue swallow you whole. Slurping up every drop that came out of you.

“F-fuck you Mr. Riley, seriously fuck you!” You gasped, hand reaching behind you to spread yourself wider.

He groans against you, slapping at your sopping mess once, “Lil girl, I’m tryin,” he flicks his tongue around your hole before sliding two fingers into you. “Therrre you go Lucky, all that damn talkin, just needed somethin in your pretty little hole huh?”

You moan, “Talkin c-cause I’m right! hngh- You’re just- hah- just so hardheaded- aangh!”

Simon thrusts his fingers harsher, sucking at the fingers you were getting wet, then down to your pretty button of a clit. You kick your foot out right when his fingers curl into you juuuuust right, almost falling forward till he wraps an arm around you to keep you steady.

“Stay still baby girl, or you’ll fall.” he gruffs, lapping his tongue every to slowly through your folds.

“Mr. Riley- I can’t! Shit! Augh“ you hiccup, you gut twisting in knots.

“Shhhh Mrs. Riley? Yer bein so loud when me ‘nd her are talkin.” Simon buries his face in your cunt, fingers slamming into creating a loud sloshing of your wetness until he feels you flutter once, his takes a breath away, his voice horse as your syrupy cum trickles down his throat and onto the floor. “This is just what she needs baby, just hush and take it.”

He bites the beautiful fat of your ass before diving back in, slurping and letting his fingers work in and out of you till you’re shattering around his thick digits. Screaming as you wet his face. And Simon swallows it all down. Sticking his tongue in your sponginess of your walls as you clench repeatedly.

Simon pulls away, turning you around while your still in a daze, face wetter than ever with your slick. He pulls you on top of him, springing his aching cock free from the boxers that restrained them, that slaps right at his abs. You rested your head against his, letting the man rub his aching red tip against your hole.

With a slap to your ass, you ease yourself down on him, a pornographic moan of pain and pleasure leaving your plump lips.

“Take this off.” Simon huffs, fingers pulling at the straps of your bralette and grinding up into you.

“Mmph- But Simon i-it’s strange.” You hiccup. You always get so nervous when you two go at it on the porch. His shy baby, he’d remind you that no one, especially at 1 or 2 in the morning, is coming or will ever hear your loud moans. But maybe you’d sound like a banshee if this man got anywhere near your chest. Your nipples had become so sensitive as of late and you didn’t know why.

Simon on the other hand, adored it. Couldn’t get enough when they got all puffy and the way you whined when they hurt. Like music to his ears. But he soothes you, rubs your back and rests his chin on your chest.

“Ain’t strange f’me tuh have what’s mine, is it? Come on, show ‘em to me. You know I looooove how pretty they are.”

You bite your lip, this man could get you to do anything. If this was 10 months ago, you would’ve laughed in your own face if you said you were fucking outside, let alone mindlessly listening to a man. You took off the material holding your breasts, throwing it off to the side.

Simon cups them both in his large hands, groping and squeezing at them, “Pretty tits gonna be filled with milk for our kid soon, huh mama? Can’t wait to see you feedin ‘em. Gonna look so beautiful.”

You moaned his lap, attempting to cover your mouth with the back of your hand as he gave one of your nipples a little suck. Gently taking it between his teeth and nipping at it.

You looked beautiful, your pretty mounds bouncing right in his face while you moved up and down, taking every inch of his veiny cock he was willing to give you. All while he sucked your hardened nipples, looking you right in the eyes. A groan escapes you lips, grinding your hips even harder.

He grunts, meeting you half way and thrusting up into you when your legs began to shake, “Love when I suck on ‘em don’tcha Lucky? Need it to get off.”

You only whimper, eyes fluttering, as you fight your own pleasure. You manage to stifle up a, “Shut up Mr. Riley.” But it does no Justice to the way your rubbing your perfect tits in his face. Begging for more. Wanting him to suck just a little bit more.

“Lil girl, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want, can I?” He tuts, looking up at you with such lust filled eyes.

“Please Si, need you, please?” You keen, letting your nipples rub against his face to feel something, anything.

Simon would give you anything at the drop of a hat, even if you didn’t have any manners, and most definitely if you used that ultra rare nickname with him. He grips your hips, slamming you down on his dick, taking your gorgeous nipples in his mouth and sucking like his life depended on it making you moan. His tongue swirled around your areola, French kissing both of them equally while he rudely bullied his cock through your velvety walls.

Your fingers find his golden locks of hair, running through them while he rams into you, finding your g-spot causing you to squeal, more of your slick dropping past your thighs and onto Simon.

“Fuck me baby, Gonna cum, you want it?”

“Want it so bad Mr. Riley. Nng- Need it all in me.” You whine. Your head falls on his shoulder as he sob his name like a prayer, clutching onto him as your walls tighten around his length, spasming.

“That’s it pretty, that’s it, s-shit.” Simon fills you to the brim, working his cum deep inside you, bouncing you a few more times.

You don’t even know how you got to the floor.

You fluttered your eyes open and Simon had you on your knees, the meanest arch with your back and your face pressed up against the hardwoods floor. Your mixed cum was dripping down to the floor while he smacked his tip against your sloppy cunt. You shuddered at the feeling, mewling in want.

Simon heard your phone ring from his back pocket, he scuffed yanking it out from his pants, just to see that idiot calling you. And probably while his girlfriend was sleep, that fucking cheating bitch. A curse feel from Simons lips.

“Mr. Riley?” You keened, You looked back at him with those big brown eyes, batting those long lashes, a pout adorning your face. You shimmied your ass back on him and he groaned.

Were you too cock drunk to hear your own damn phone vibrate? A devilish grin on Simons face, he’ll get what he wants and fill you up just how you need to too.

He answered it, leaving it on speaker before tossing it in the chair Simon just fucked you in.

“[+]? Are you there?” The stupid prick asks in a whisper, and right then Simon rocks himself into you. Giving your ass a harsh slap before drilling his dick inside your cum soaked walls.

“Fuuuuck- feels so goooood Mr. Riley!” You practically screamed, eyes fluttering shut. That was answer enough, honestly. Your Mr. Riley was fucking you dumber than dumb, your mouth forming a ‘o’ with movement.

“Tell me darlin, who you in love with?”

“M-my huuushband.” you slurred out, drool leaving the corner of your lips, nipples grazing the floor with every harsh thrust.

“And who’s that?”

“Mmmph- you Mr. Riley.”

The ends of Simons lip curve up, such a good girl taking his cock. A white ring forming at the base of his length, “ ‘S that right pretty?”

“I-I love you soooo much papa! More than- hngh- mooore than anything, I swear!”

Papa? New.

He likes it.

Simon snickers at your response, stretching you out so fucking much, and giving you the sluttiest, cruelest thrusts of his life. The loud, smack, smack, smack of your hips colliding could be heard miles away, “Pa loves you too, don’t I, Lucky?”

“So much, fuck, love on me sooo much Pa!” You breath hitched,

And it’s just enough to let that bastard hear exactly what Simon Riley does to you. Simon glances at the phone and it’s already hung up, he's sure the idiots dick got wet from the precious and needy sounds you and your sobbing cunt were making.

Love making was a be-au-tiful thing between a married couple who loved each other, wasn’t it?

Simon bends down, tweaking your nipples in his hands as he rams into you faster, swiveling his hips into you.

His voice is low, gentle, and he whispers right in your ear which makes you tingle all over, “I’m sorry sweet girl, was jealous.”

“I- shit, shit, shit, I know. Mmph- ‘s okay. Love you so much, always want you sooo fuckin much papa.” Your words turn into sobs, tears filling your eyes as you jerk in his arms.

“That’s my girl.” Simon mumbles against your cheek, holding you closer, makes you take his thick cock while he bruises your poor cunt. His hand comes down to your clit, giving it small circles with his thumb, and you cum. Hard. And maybe you were as loud as a banshee, completely soaking the dick that was splitting you cunt in half.

And Simon didn’t stop, fucking you right through your orgasm that seemed to never end.

Simon growls at the feel of your gummy walls, managing to get tighter while he gives you frantic thrusts. Gobbling at your neck while he snaps his hips into yours, kissing your cervix with his leaking tip. Grunts and moans of ecstasy fill the star fill sky as you two cum. Ropes of cum leaking right into your womb, just as you needed.

A good filling.

Simon pats your stomach, “That’s right where our babies gonna go Lucky. Promise, tonight a baby's gonna be right in there.”

You giggle, eyes low and dazed, “G-gonna make you a real Daddy, Mr.Riley.”

“Yeah,” he swoons breathlessly. Kissing the apple of your cheek making you giggle again. “Can’t wait to see our pretty baby sweetheart.”

a/n: this was a request so lmk what you think bubbas (I know it wasn’t that icky but idk I still think it’s cute). Also @bunnybeaches proofread for me so thank you so much🥺 I luv you.

most recent masterlist more country!simon

[dix0nspretty]

something something gifting soap one of your hairbands so that he can wear it on his wrist, marking him as yours, but the man is such a fucking pervert he ends up with it around his cock, wearing it like a cockring

[dix0nspretty]

Being the pretty bird that works at the little art store at the corner— the one Johnny visits every Saturday following his medical discharge from service. Art being one of the few things he has left that the bullet couldn’t take from him.

And it’s easy to fall in love with people who are in love with what they’re doing. And Johnny falls a little more in love every time he hears you— asking questions about things he had never really intended to buy just to listen to you explain them. The differences between tube and pan watercolors, how to use acrylic media, the importance of using high contrast photos when making gel prints.

You’re used to his little outbursts. His impulse control is shot. You’re used to him zoning out while you speak.

“Sorry, hen— can ye explain tha’ again? Got distracted imaginin’ wha’ ye’d look like pregnant.”

That one’s new.

[dix0nspretty]

Soap about to go nuclear because he’s seeing you pull all of the stereotypical cutesy ploys to get intimate with ghost and none of them are landing

Holding your hand up to his and acting in awe of how much bigger it is than yours

In cold safe houses telling him you should just sleep in the same bedroll to keep warmer

Asking him if he wants to fucking share chapstick with your lips all pursed and shiny

Soap pulling ghost aside with a death grip on his shoulders saying “c’mon man yer focking killing me. Please just fuck her”

And ghost being like “idk what you’re talking about she doesn’t like me like that”

And soap being 2 minutes away from just grabbing your heads and making you kiss like dolls

[dix0nspretty]

Johnathan Price fucking you while he makes you recite your wedding vows all over again because you were being a brat and telling him how you hate him.

[dix0nspretty]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒍 𝑫𝒊𝒙𝒐𝒏 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Daryl won’t ever make the first move. He wouldn’t risk making you feel uncomfortable or putting you in that type of situation. He knows that with the apocalypse, you have to deal with all different kinds of men and wants you to know he isn’t one of them.

When you make it clear that it's what you want, he’ll do whatever you tell him to. He wants you to feel good, he derives pleasure from seeing how you react to his touch. The way your temperature rises when his hands explore your curves. Or how your eyes flutter when he’s climbing between your legs. The soft moans that escape your mouth when he hits the right spot. How your hands dig into his flesh, all of it gives him the motivation to keep going.

As much as Daryl loves leaving you nice and full, on occasion he will paint your face, stomach, and right on top of your pussy. He attains a certain gratification from watching you pick it up and lick it off your finger. 

Daryl loves the way you taste. He loves burying his face between your plush lips. Soaking up all the juices you release for him. The way your hands run down to his hair. He keeps your thighs to bed as you arch your back, mind desperately trying to run from his tongue. However, the way your body reacts every time he’s near, it’s clear how badly you're infatuated with him. 

He loves leaving kisses all over your body when he’s inside you. He can feel your extra heartbeat around him, a feeling of pure ache and pain. When you're under him, unable to form complete sentences. He’ll grab the back of your hand and leave kisses all over it.

He describes making love to you like having ice-cold water on a hot day. Relief washes over his entire body. Feeling the liquid crawl through every inch of his body. The way you envelop him sets his body on fire. A flame that could burn forever. 

The contrast between his hardness and your spongy softness is a sensation that can only be described as connection. Feeling his cock hit that spot right before your cervix does nothing but send a wave of pleasure throughout your entire body. 

You love watching yourself expand to house his entire length. Spellbound to see his cock disappear inside you. The initial rush of his first movements gets your blood rushing and pulse rising. Your body naturally welcomes him in, like you were made for this.

Once Daryl is close, his pace begins to get messy, slamming into with all the strength in his body. All he feels is your warm, moist, and slimy guts that make his muscles weak. All he can do is give into you. 

That spot that sits on the far back side of the cervix. Pass your G-spot. When he hammers into you, it creates a lot more lubrication, only furthering his actions. 

Daryl loves cumming in your mouth. There's no better sight than seeing tears swell up in your eyes, drool oozing from the sides of your mouth. Seeing how hard you're trying to please him. 

Even though he’s strong enough to manhandle you and throw you around, he doesn’t. He loves being gentle with you, slow and sleeping morning sex with you before he goes on about his day. Making each other feel good early in the morning, showing how much his body needs you. 

Spooning in bed together is often a nice way to unwind after a long day. Though some nights his hand will crawl through the blankets to reach your pussy, slowly massaging your clit. Making you squirm under him, trying to pretend you're sleeping. It’s pointless because you’ll always release a plea for him to go faster. 

Daryl would love fucking you outdoors. Pounding you into a tree, while the others are busy taking care of work. He’d grip your breasts to protect them from the rough bark. Letting a mixture of your juice fall down your legs. With your panties around your ankles.

Words of affirmation!1!! This man will constantly remind you how good you feel around him, how toasty you make him feel. Sometimes he’ll talk to your pussy saying things like “Does my pretty pussy wanna go again?”

When you ride him, Daryl would lock his arms around you. You’d stop riding him when he says so. And when he gets you in this position, there's no getting out, you’re practically a living fleshlight for him.

Daryl wants to fill your pretty pussy to brim and then clean it up with his tongue.

[dix0nspretty]

Currently I have this thought of Johnny being the perfect fuck boy (what do you mean by the perfect fuck boy) who has got all this charm and very charismatic aura around him that does attracts men and women alike (my boy bi), and then there is you the nerd who is trying to get dicked down because everyone makes fun of you as the innocent virgin friend.

Johnny has a mate, Simon who is also a fuck boy, but more on the scary side— totally your type, big, buff, scary dog privileges. Oof— but he doesn't do virgins, inexperienced sweethearts; so when you come up to Simon with your request he's flicking you off ain't got time for innocent birds sweet'art and dismissed you.

So you go to his best mate, Johnny ofc to get fucked. And Johnny complies because you're such a sweetheart stuttering and so shy asking and almost on the verge of tears because Simon rejected you. And Johnny does fuck you good, so good but the whole time you're crying on his cock over Simon's rejection.

Johnny has never been turned on and annoyed, he just fucks you harder because Lass I'm the one making ye feel so good, why thinking about that wanker? Hmm?

(in my head simon joins the fuck, it's a threesome)

[dix0nspretty]

None of the 141 could risk fumbling their bird- coz Johnny is there.. starving 👁️👁️