#cod mwii

[al4thea]

They're wrestling your honor

[gothghostiie]

thinking about something that happened to me while babysitting and I am unable to cope with it so obviously I have to make it something for yall

thinking about babysitter!reader being hired by price, you just go to check on the little one in their nursery. the baby is sleeping peacefully, you close the door - but the handle fucking breaks off. naturally you start to panic, the baby is in there all alone and you can't get in, so you call price in literal tears. telling him what happened, desperately scrambling around to look at the baby monitor. He tells you to take a breath, trying to get you to calm down, that its okay, he'll come home.

you're sat on the couch, crying in a panic while watching the blisfully unaware baby over the monitor until Price gets home. he comes in, making a beeline to the small utility room, then to the nursery. its an easy and quick fix, you definitely could have done it yourself you think as you watch over his shoulder. he opens the door quickly and sees the sleeping baby before closing the door with a chuckle and turning to you. you're still sniffling, babbling soft apologies, telling him youll understand if he doesn't pay or ever hires you again - but he shakes his head and leads you to the couch with him, sitting you down.

"sit, love. take a breath." he murmurs, vanishing to the kitchen, from where he comes back a minute later with a cup of tea that he hands you. sits down next to you, then gently pulls you into his side. "C'mere now. its alright bird, don't cry now."

[thisnoah]

ITALIA 🔥🔥🔥

[etclouie]

kinktober day seven - size kink 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: your boyfriends always been bigger than you in more ways than one, but theirs one in particular he likes best (Simon Riley x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: size kink/difference, no reader bodily descriptions other than being smaller than simon, reader gets praised by simon, poorly written smut, smut with zero plot, unprotected sex, reader calls simon ‘big boy’ at the end, lmk if i missed any

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 745

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: feel iffy about this one cause ik it doesn’t follow a size kink directly

prev day | next day kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Simon had always been bigger than you, mainly due to his height and the sheer strength of him in comparison. always grabbing things from the top shelf when you couldn’t reach, but mainly making you feel safe in his arms. 

that was his number one goal, always. 

even when he was pushing you to your limits when fucking you, your safety was always his main concern. 

just like now. 

he had you laid out on your back, his hands having pulled your legs around his broad hips while he positioned his cock at your entrance. 

his touch soft and his gaze holding yours, and his thumb drawing shapes onto your hip. 

watching him through hooded eyes as his cock slowly pushed into your warmth, whining at the stretch to accustom yourself to his size while your nails scratched down his back. 

“i’ve got you, ‘s okay luv”

he whispered out low and soft, his head dropping to your shoulder while you held him as close as possible. breath shaky and back arched up into him as his hips slowly pushed against yours and his cock sliding further into you. 

the thing with Simon was that everything about him was huge; especially his cock. 

you’d almost lost your mind when you first seen him naked. chest scared and a thin trail of hair leading down to his cock from below his bellybutton, and eyes widening as his cock rested against his thigh. 

so now, with his hips rocking against yours and his cock pushing you to your limits, it highlighted the sheer size of him. 

shaky breaths leaving you and fingers tangling in his hair, barely audible murmurs of his name leaving your lips as your walls fluttered around him. 

“doing so good f’me sweetheart”

his voice kept its soft tone, his hands resting on your hips as his thrusts continued at their steady pace. humming softly as he kissed across your jaw before capturing your lips with his, his kisses chaste and soft. 

despite his softness when you took him, trying to accustom yourself to his size; he loved the fact he was bigger than you. it fuelled something almost primal inside him, and his need to push you to your limits growing by the second. 

the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock had muffled groans spilling from him as he kept his head in the crook of your neck, lips pressing kisses to your skin and the sound of skin slapping against skin growing louder. 

“Si, close baby, please” 

the shaky plea had his head reeling, heat flushing his cheeks and the warmth emitting from his cheeks warming your skin where you were in contact. 

his right hand slid between your body to press his thumb against your clit, moaning at the contact and your head lulling back. 

“cum f’me sweetheart, i’ve got you”

the reassurance and approval in his voice mixed with his thumb against your clit had you tumbling over the edge, eyes screwed shut and a ragged cry of his name following. 

his hips continuing against you, and his cock throbbing in your warmth, lifting your head enough to watch him withdraw enough to see your release coating his length before he pushed back into you. 

“there’s my girl, doing so good f’me luv”

he praised, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he continued. his thrusts growing sloppy as his climax neared, his cock throbbing in your warmth and a groan leaving him as your nails scratched down his back. 

pressing a kiss to his temple and drawing a groan from him, fingers moving to tangle in his hair and pulling him into a kiss. his tongue pushing past your lips to tangle with yours, and whining into the kiss as he withdrew from your warmth. 

his right hand wrapping around his cock and stroking himself, while his left hand braced himself on the pillows next to your head. 

groans spilling from his lips and his cock throbbing in his hand, his eyes panning down your body and his hips rocking forward into his touch as his climax washed over him. 

his release spurting out and coating your stomach, his groans turning into whines as he milked himself. dropping his head to your shoulder and letting go of his cock as the last drop spilled from him, his breath ragged and uneven while you raked your fingers through his hair. 

“i’ve got you, big boy”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[aestheticanimegirl15]

Chunky girls need love, midsized girls need love, skinny girls need love, and athletic girls need love. EVERYONE NEEDS LOVE. And they all deserve it, too.

[betweenstorms]

The nights with Simon Riley had a way of unfolding slowly, like the dark sky stretching over the city.

He stood on the balcony of your apartment, his tall figure dark against the dim glow of the city, the cigarette between his fingers casting a faint light over his hardened features. You watched him from the doorway, the way he exhaled smoke like he was letting out something heavier than just nicotine. His broad shoulders were relaxed but there was something in the way he leaned on the railing, something distant and unreachable.

You’d grown used to finding him there, slipping out in the dead of night to be alone with his thoughts.

Your relationship with Simon was still new, still delicate, and you respected the walls he kept between you and the parts of himself he wasn’t ready to share. You were still learning how to be with him, how to exist in his world without pressing for more than he was willing to give. But there was something about the way he stood out there, still and alone, that made you want to join him.

You pulled a thick blanket around your shoulders and stepped outside, the cold air biting at your skin as you moved to stand beside him. He didn’t turn to look at you, but the subtle shift in his posture let you know he was aware of your presence.

The quiet stretched, filled only by the soft crackle of his cigarette and the distant hum of the city below.

For a moment, you worried you might be intruding, that this space of his was one you weren’t meant to enter. But then, without turning his head, he exhaled a cloud of smoke and murmured.

“You’ll catch a cold, love.”

His voice was low, rough from years of shouting orders and biting back pain, yet there was a gentleness in it that made your heart ache. You tugged the blanket tighter around yourself, your breath a soft mist in the chill of the night.

“You’ll catch one too,” you whispered back, eyes flicking to him from beneath your lashes. He hummed in response, the sound deep and thoughtful. The smoke from his cigarette trailed into the air, disappearing into the night like his words, but the weight of whatever he was thinking lingered, hanging between you like a thin thread.

For a second, you were afraid that your company might be unwelcome, that maybe this was one of those nights where the weight of his silence was too much for him to bear. 

He grunted, “Been through worse.”

You hesitated, then softly asked, “Worse?”

He was quiet for a moment, as if weighing whether to let you in or to leave the conversation hanging in the cold night air. But then, almost casually, he answered, “Siberia. Had to lie in the snow for a whole day during an op, waitin’ for the target. It was so fuckin’ cold it felt like my bones were freezin’ from the inside out.”

His words were blunt, delivered in that deadpan tone he used when talking about his past, as if it was nothing more than a simple fact. Simon didn’t elaborate, he never did. He’d always let his sentences drift into the silence, leaving you to piece together the fragments of the life he kept hidden from you. From everyone.

The weight of his words hung in the air, heavier than the smoke that curled between you. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. For a second, the city seemed to fade, the world narrowing to the bite of winter and the quiet strength of the man beside you.

Without thinking, you shifted closer to him, the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, but now you pulled a corner of it over him, too. He glanced down at the blanket with a raised eyebrow, his cigarette paused halfway to his lips.

You thought he might brush it off, that he would retreat back into himself, but his reaction surprised you. He shifted slightly, allowing the blanket to cover more of him. It was subtle, the way he leaned just a little closer, but it was enough for you to feel the solid warmth of his body next to yours.

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you looked at him, half-shrouded in the blanket.

“Sounds miserable,” you teased, your voice soft but light, trying to coax him out of the darkness of that memory.

He scoffed, taking another deep drag from his cigarette. The sound was somewhere between amusement and disbelief, as if the idea of it being miserable had never even crossed his mind.

Simon turned slightly, the cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he offered it to you, the soft glow of the ash flickering in the dim light. You shook your head. He hummed again, eyes briefly flicking over you before he brought the cigarette back to his lips, inhaling deeply, turning away from you. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, his thoughts far from the balcony, but you felt the shift in his mood. The heaviness in the air began to lift, like a cloud of smoke dissipating into the wind.

You both stood there for a while in silence, wrapped in the makeshift cocoon of the blanket, the cold air still nipping at your cheeks but no longer biting through the layers. You could feel his steady presence beside you, grounding you in a way that words couldn’t. It wasn’t just about sharing warmth, it was also about sharing space, about the quiet understanding that you didn’t need to fill the silence with anything more than your nearness.

Eventually, Simon stubbed out his cigarette on the balcony railing, his fingers lingering on the metal for a moment as if grounding himself in the coolness of it. He didn’t pull away from the blanket, though. Instead, he leaned back against the railing, turning slightly so that he could see you fully for the first time since you stepped out.

Then suddenly, out of the blue, Simon reached for you.

His rough, calloused fingers found your chin with a gentleness that surprised you, catching it as if inspecting you closely. His touch was cool, still carrying the remnants of the night air, but you melted into it, pressing your cheek slightly against his hand. His thumb traced a slow, deliberate path along your jaw as you blinked up at him, heart fluttering at the intimacy of the moment.

There was something in the way he held you, something so gentle it almost broke your heart. He tilted his head to the side, his hazel eyes flickering with something unreadable and thoughtful, as though he were studying your reaction in the quiet way only he could.

His steady gaze lingered for a bit, then he dropped his hand, his fingers brushing against your arm as he did so. The warmth of his touch still burned on your skin, even after it was gone, and you found yourself smiling up at him, your heart full of something soft.

“Cold?”

His voice was low, barely above a murmur, but you could hear the faintest hint of amusement in it. You shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around the both of you, leaning just a little closer to him, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours.

“Not anymore.”

Your words barely reached him, but you knew he’d heard you.

Simon didn’t answer, instead, he shifted closer, his arm wrapping around you beneath the blanket, pulling you into the solid warmth of his chest. You pressed your face into him, your breath warm against his shirt, and for the first time that night, you felt the quiet truth that had settled between you.

[daydreamerwoah]

Family Tree (Chapter 14)

tw: drinking; smut; MDNI!; full chapter is a smut scene so please don't read if you don't want to

Simon x Y/n <3

When he hung up the phone, he wanted nothing more than to call you back and talk to you, wondering if you were thinking about what he'd do to you like he was. Ever since he had been giving you rides, Simon had envisioned the many ways he wanted to please you, the moans he wanted to hear from you, the look in your eyes as he brought you to that first peak of ecstasy. It was nothing like when he had meaningless sex with random women; pure physical and honestly never lasted longer than after he came. Sure, he made sure the woman got off, too, but he followed soon after and parted ways. He also liked doing it a certain way - taking them from behind. It was safer; none of them would have the opportunity to try and pull his mask or balaclava off. 

The one time a girl tried to sneakily yank his balaclava off, he instantly got off of her, put his clothes back on, and left. He was pissed. His boner was gone and he was irritated she'd tried after he had specifically told her not to.

Was he a bit insecure about his face underneath? Not at all. But it was something he'd grown so used to - no one ever really seeing his face. It was just an honest reaction. 

But with you..... hell, did he want you under him, on top of him, in front of him. He closed his eyes briefly. Just thinking about you laying in bed right now was getting him hard. Did you like to sleep with a shirt on? Nothing on? How would you look as he pleased your sweet cunt while you had his shirt on? Would you like it rough? Like it if his hand wrapped around your throat as he kissed you?

Fuckin hell.

He had been sitting outside under a tree at the base where they were stationed for those two weeks. It was almost three in the morning where he was, but he couldn't have been more awake. Not after that phone call. A groan left his mouth as he took out a cigarette and lit it. He couldn't wait to get back home; back to you.

*****************************************************

When he texted you the morning he got back, he was so tired. Even though no blood, guns, and death were involved in the mission, sitting in meetings all day felt just as exhausting. The unspoken suspense of seeing him later was at the forefront of your mind, but there was no way you'd bug him when he probably needed sleep. But he didn't care. He wanted to see you after work and pick you up too. 

Y/n: Let me catch the bus please :) I really want you to just rest, and I'll be over after work. Got some leftovers from dinner yesterday. I'll bring you a plate

It took some convincing, but he did get at least some sleep for a few hours with the promise that you'd finally stay at his place for the night. It wasn't that you never wanted to... it was just that you didn't want to seem like you were using him. He was too nice; too kind... but it was all for you. You had a weird mind at times - blame your mother.

You were actually able to get off work 30 minutes early, so you got an Uber to get home quickly, take a shower, pack up the leftovers..... and maybe put on something sexy. It wasn't an entire set, but it was definitely a lacy and seductive bra and panty match. You hoped he'd like it. As you glanced over yourself, the pinging sound of your phone went off.

Simon: Still coming love?

He wasn't pushy by any means, but fuck did he miss you. Ever since you started working on the weekends and then his mission, the time the two of you spent was really just on your couch at home as you tried not to fall asleep. But tonight......... tonight was different. He felt different. And he had to take a shot of his Kentucky Bourbon as he waited for you to arrive. 

When you finally did, you had no idea he was going to open the door in grey sweatpants and a dark shirt that fit over his broad chest so... attractively. It was surprising. Again, you had never seen him outside of the uniform and regular outfits; the cold weather often making him wear a hoodie all the time. It was like seeing a whole new Simon. He even put on a surgical mask instead of his balaclava, leaving his hair out. You couldn't help the way your eyes widened as you took him all in. The sleeve tattoo on his left forearm, the muscles on his biceps, the- 

"Like what you see sweetheart?" he teased, a smirk evident in his voice. 

Blinking out whatever small trance you were in, you covered it by walking up to him and closing your eyes; the meaning for him to give you a kiss. A soft chuckle escaped from him as he pulled the mask down and gave you a soft peck before pulling it back over his nose. Your eyes opened as you smiled before he let you in the apartment. 

You had become familiar with your way around his small kitchen, so you heated up a plate for him to eat. While he did, you went and put your things in his bedroom, checking yourself in the mirror. You hadn't put on a ton of makeup, but the mascara made your eyes pop a little. You sprayed a little breath mint in your mouth and fixed your hair. There was nothing wrong with it, but hell, were you getting nervous. You only stopped when you heard him walk into the kitchen and put his plate in the sink. 

How did he eat so fast? 

He all but scarfed down his food, somewhat used to eating in a hurry from being on missions, but also.... he was getting restless. The bourbon doing fuck all to ease his nerves. You made your way back into the living room, sitting down on the couch as he brought a glass of the same liquor to you, setting his own down on the coffee table. A little liquid courage probably would help as you threw the glass back, downing it in two gulps. 

"Alright there sweetheart?" he asked, noticing the change in your demeanor. 

You nodded, "Mmhm," you said, making his eyebrow raise. Fuck why did he look so...sexy to do that? You glanced down at the cup, slightly embarrassed.

"Hey, look at me love," you did, "Y'sure you wanna do this? We don't have. Not now at least."

"I want to. Trust me," a giggle escaping your lips, making him smirk under the mask.

It was quiet for a second before Simon followed your lead and down his glass in one go. He stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you did. He led you to his room, guiding you to the bed, where you sat down at the edge. God, he was tall, and sitting down and looking up directly at his towering figure made you both exhilarated and turned on. The gaze in his eyes let you know he had to be thinking the same exact thing. He was. The way your doe eyes looked up at him had his fingers itching to touch you.

"You trust me?" he suddenly asked. You nodded, but it wasn't enough to convince him.. not even the slightest. He leaned down, his face coming inches away from yours, "Words sweetheart."

The lump that formed in your throat went straight to your core as you swallowed it, "I do."

The moment his eyes darkened, you knew you were a goner. He stood up straight and walked to the light switch. He looked back at you, "If you want to stop just tell me yeah?"

"Okay."

He turned the light off, plunging the room into complete darkness. You could barely see his intimating figure, let alone anything else, as he walked back to stand in front of you. You almost jumped when his hand reached up and cupped your cheek, but instead, your heart started pounding in your chest. His thumb caressed your cheek softly and you couldn't help but slightly lean into his touch. 

"Lay back for me love," he instructed. 

You did as you were told, back hitting the bed before he climbed on top of you. His body damn near engulfed you, and all he did was hover over you. Then came the rustling sound and movement of him removing the surgical mask from his face and tossing it somewhere on the bed. Your heart really thumped in your chest. It was so loud, you were sure he would be able to hear it. The stillness in their air was so thick with tension you could feel the sexual energy radiating around you. Why did it feel so.... intoxicating? You couldn't even see the tip of his nose, yet you were so horny you knew your panties were damp. 

"Touch m'face," he said. 

Sucking in a tiny sharp breath, your eyes widened in the dark, "Simon... I-I don't have to-"

"I know. But I want you to," A beat went by before you reached your hands up and softly placed them on either side of his face. The first thing you noticed was the deep scarred tissue on the left side above his cheek, and you couldn't help but hold your breath. He felt how your fingers went stiff, "S'alright sweetheart."

With the encouragement from him, you began exploring his face, the pads of your fingers running over the scar that sliced through the right side of his lips, the one above his right eyebrow, and a tiny one right by his hairline. He made you giggle faintly when you traced your forefinger down his nose, feeling the slight crookedness on it, and he told you it looked worse when it was straight. 

"You're beautiful," you couldn't help the words slip from your mouth as your hands went lower to feel the part underneath his jaw where a few more scars were. They were tiny but still very much there 

His eyebrows drew together slightly, taken aback by your comment, "How would y'know?" 

"Because you're good to me. You treat me well. And you make me feel safe," you said with a soft smile. 

Damn.

Saying all that made him feel things more than what was just happening in that moment; more than just liking you. He slowly leaned down, his lips inches from yours, and you couldn't take the anticipation anymore as you raised your head up to kiss him. What started off as just lips on lips very quickly turned into a gradual, heated kiss. He was nervous to move too fast, but the second you opened your mouth for his tongue to press against yours and you let out a small moan, he felt the blood rush down to cock. 

His lips left yours as they trailed from the corner of your mouth to your cheek, then to your jaw. But when his tongue daintily ran over a spot on your neck, you almost squirmed underneath him. 

"This alright?" he asked, afraid he might have done something wrong. 

"Yes," you breathed out. 

You felt his smirk against your skin as he kissed the spot once more and brought his hand up under your shirt. His fingers were warm, adding to the heated veins under your skin. As if wanting to add to the pleasure, you pulled his face closer to you, running your hand through his short hair. His hand continued to glide up the side of your waist, stopping when he reached your lacy bra strap. 

"Can I?" another question. 

God, the consent of it all had you wet because it was so thrilling but you wanted him to take control; full control. 

"Mmhm."

His hand cupped your breast, squeezing it and earning another moan from your lips; another squeeze, another soft moan. He got off the bed, pulling you back upright and pulling your shirt off effortlessly. It would have shocked you if you hadn't been in such a daze. His shirt came off right after, and you desperately wished it wasn't pitch dark in the room. To see his toned muscles and stoic figure would have been the death of you. But there wasn't much time to think about that as he told you to move closer to the headboard. As you did, you took off your bra and tossed it at him, a slight tease for him not being able to see you either. When it hit his chest, a low grunt came from his throat.

"Take your bottoms off," his voice thick with lust. You could hear the damn smirk on his face. Blushing like crazy, you did as you were told, tossing it at him, "Good girl."

Fuck. 

There was something about those two words. The way he said them. You could only imagine the look he was giving you that very moment as you laid naked on his bed, waiting for him. 

He shifted onto the mattress, laying down on his stomach, before putting your legs over his shoulders. Your breathing had picked up, and you thought you'd burst from the feeling of it all. Kissing one of your inner thighs softly, he paused, making sure you wouldn't tense or pull away. Then, another on the opposite thigh, closer to the center between your legs. 

"Remember sweetheart. If y'want me to stop, just tell me."

"O-okay," you barely couldn't get the word out. 

He stuck his tongue out, taking a long and slow lick from your core to your clit, and the moan that escaped from you had his cock painfully hard. He had been waiting for months just to hear that sweet sound, and now that he was... he only wanted more. His arms had hooked around your thighs, and he was set on a mission - to make you cum good and hard. His tongue started flicking over your clit and then gliding down to your hole, pushing in as your fingers raked through the back of his head. You tasted sweet to him. So sweet he wanted to stay buried between your legs for as long as you let him. If it was forever, then so be it. 

He hummed when you pulled gently on his hair, the vibration of it causing a fire to ignite in the pit of your stomach. When he sucked gently on your bud, your other hand found its way on top of his as he squeezed your hips, "Fuck Simon."

God, the way you said his name only further made him suck harder, causing you to moan louder. No girl had ever said his name the way you did; they didn't even know it. And the ones who did know him only called him Ghost. But you.... you calling him Simon was going to send him over the edge before he even had a chance to penetrate you. It was a battle between self-control and letting his cock take over the desired feeling. 

Once your legs started trembling, his licks got stronger, harder, and faster. The once small fire in your stomach had engulfed into flames that were burning through your core, "I'm gonna.... c-cum. Simon..."

He didn't slow down. He only sucked your clit harder, and your orgasm hit. It was funny... even in the darkness, you still could see stars floating around you when you opened your eyes. 

When the blissful high came down, he kissed both of your thighs before climbing his way up to your face, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips. You weren't ten seconds from coming down, and tasting yourself on his tongue had you instantly wanting to cum again. 

"Fuck you sound beautiful love," he said as he bent his head down and kissed your neck again. 

A breathy hum made its way from your lips as you reached down and tugged on his sweatpants, "Take these off," you said, giving a command of your own. 

How could he say no to you? He pulled them off, freeing his cock from the cloth restraint, and let out a sigh. Not holding back after how he made you feel, you gently grabbed him, earning a shaky sigh from his mouth that felt more held back. You slide your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, making his cock twitch in your hand. The fact that your instincts had been right about the size of him had the pool of wetness oozing out of your cunt as you bit your bottom lip. 

He reached over to the nightstand, opening the drawer, and pulling out a condom. After he put it on, he positioned himself between your legs, lining himself up with your entrance. You didn't even hesitate as you hoisted your legs up and wrapped them around his hips. He could have pushed in, putting the both of you out of your misery, but no... he wanted to hear you beg for it. 

"Y'want this?" he pushed his cock on your still sensitive clit. 

"Fuck... yes," you moaned out. 

"Tell me."

The teasing was going to kill you in the best way possible, "I want you Simon."

"Yeah?" he chuckled. 

"Yes."

A playful hum escaped his throat, "Say please sweetheart," he said, pushing against your clit again.

"Please Simon... I can't-I want you so bad."

You begging was going to be the death of him. He slowly entered you, your walls tensing up as you took him in. Fuck he was thick... thicker than you expected, and with not having had sex in five years, you were plenty tight; tighter than any woman he'd ever been with. Your hands went to wrap around his neck, but he immediately took them and locked them above your head with one of his large hands. 

"Fuck," he breathed out, feeling your body react to him in a way that no woman had ever done before. He didn't want to hurt you, but he was struggling not to bottom out in you too quickly.

When he finally did, you both stilled, him letting out a content sigh while you gasped, trying to get used to the feeling of one another. He didn't move until you grinded against his hips, and he pulled out slightly before pushing back in. The deep groan that escaped from his throat was so deep it sounded like a growl when he did the action again. Your hips raising up to meet his thrust had both of you struggling to keep in moans - you more than him as the sheer girth of him literally took your breath away. 

You wanted to move your hands. You even tried to, but he only tightened his grip, holding them down onto the mattress, "Nuh uh," he said, picking up his pace, causing you to moan louder. 

"Fuck Simon."

His other hand leaving your hips, he slid up your body and gripped your jaw, turning your head to the side, before kissing the shell of your ear "Say my name again love," he grunted in it. 

"S-Simon," you repeated. 

"Atta girl. Fuck you're so beautiful," he said in between his pants as he pounded into your aching cunt, "So fuckin' beautiful."

The wet sound of his cock piercing your dripping cunt over and over, skin slapping skin, and the moans and groans were the only thing heard in the room besides the tiny squeaking of the bed as you rocked into you. Even with your legs wrapped around his hips, the size of his body would have you aching until the next day. You wouldn't be surprised if it was for two days. Your core would throb just from how good he stretched you. But his shaft would twitch until he was settled into your warm, gooey walls again. He'd think about how perfectly they welcomed him in. Like you were meant for him.

That familiar pressure came rushing to the surface, "I-I'm... fuck.... g-gonna-"

"Let go sweetheart. Cum for me."

Shit.

His words alone sent you to another world as your second orgasm hit. But you weren't the only one. Feeling your walls pulse around him sent Simon over the edge all too quickly. He wasn't planning to cum as fast as he did, but how could he not when your body practically begged him to? The way your back arched off the bed, flushing your hard nipples further against his chest, the choked sigh you let out before calling out his name once more. God, he felt like an idiot turning off the lights... but only for a second as he leaned his forehead on the sheets next to your head, feeling his cock twitch as he filled up the condom with his hot seed.  

The grunts that left him and the moans that left you were the only things heard until the high waned, and you both felt as though you could catch your breaths. When he finally released your hands, you automatically knew they'd hurt in the morning - maybe even bruise - but that was far from your thoughts. The only thing on your mind was the rough lips of his on your neck, placing delicate kisses that ran up and down from your shoulder to your jaw. When he kissed your lips, it was like the both of you had come back to Earth, lost in each other's heated bodies.

He collapsed over on his back, the air from the room eventually cooling both of your chests. For a moment, it was silent - a comfortable silence. You felt his head turn to face you, and you couldn't help the smile that formed on your lips. He couldn't even see you, but somehow he just knew you were. 

"Didn't think you'd do that to me," he joked. 

"Do what?"

A huff of a chuckle bubbled up his throat, "Make me cum so quick."

You hummed, trying to stifle the giggle in your chest, "Thought that was a good thing."

"It is. Trust me," the smirk on his lips. He raised his arm up, using the other to pull you into his side as you cuddled. Your fingers trailed over his jaw and cheek so softly it caused a shiver to run down his spine. You moved lower to his neck, pulling a hum from his throat, in which you smiled again. But then, when you tried to touch his chest, his hand gently - although swiftly - grabbed yours, holding it as you paused your movements. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, looking up at the ceiling in the darkness. You heard a ghost of a sigh, "Not yet sweetheart."

Even though your eyebrows drew together in confusion, you somehow knew he was referring to you touching his chest. 

"Okay," you softly whispered as your hand went back to his jaw and grazed it with your thumb. 

He needed time. And he was forever grateful for all the time you would give him. 

They finally did it! lmao!!! What do you we think? (I swear I feel like I just suck at writing smut lol!)

Like, comment, give feedback.... IF YOU ARE A MINOR THEN PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

Taglist: @simp-4-masked-men @dayrin085 @jessicab1991 @kylies-love-letter @kalypsoox @brownlee-22 @firefoxkairan @whatyouseeyoumightnotget @romanceloverrrr @strawberrygato @lelsforlino

[keeg8n]

🌼4 the🍯

[eccentricallygothic]

simon riley is the type of grumpy overindulging older boyfriend who always tells you that you need to grow up and not be so pampered and spoilt because one should be prepared to survive in the world as you never know what will happen (one of those ‘what if i am not here one day because something happened to me’ overreacting oldies) but will also let you put everything you pick out of your plate into his own because some veggies/pickable ingredients are too ewie and he facilitates because he can't say no to your pouting and whining, will do everything for you because you're just a baby ‘tsk, give it here, kid’ and will most certainly carry you around like one. hes a hypocrite

[italktoomuchxd]

Simon Riley loves knitting.

And he's good at it like?? You showed him a photo of a crocheted frog hat; next week you find exactly the same one on your desk.

Need a sweater? Hold up, he's already getting his yarn.

Riley ate your scarf? He can make you a new one!

[literatecowboy]

Kinktober 2024

5. Bondage

warnings: Soap x Ghost x Reader (throuple); face sitting; nickname 'pup'; fem reader; its reader's present;

“A wee bit tighter…there ye go, LT. That’s perfect,” Soap said, double checking the knot and giving it a tug to ensure it would hold. 

“Sure you don’t want me to put a bow on your head? Think it’d look cute on you, Johnny,” Ghost said, picking up one of the other ropes from the pile. Johnny offered his wrists, and Ghost took them, tying them carefully behind the Scot’s back. 

“Nah, don’t want to wait on her to unwrap me. Besides, there’s bows on all her other gifts,” Johnny said. Ghost snorted. 

“Impatient pup,” he murmured, taking one of the ropes that crisscrossed Johnny’s chest into his fist and pulling the Scot close, pressing his lips to his. Johnny groaned into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. He rolled his shoulders, and Ghost pulled away slowly. 

“Comfy?” Ghost asked, running his hands down Johnny’s sides. 

“Very. Help me get into position and then go get our girl, Simon,” Johnny said, rising awkwardly from where he sat. Ghost helped him arrange himself on his knees on the bed before stepping away. 

—

“Just a few more steps, love. Keep coming,” Ghost murmured, guiding you by your hands as he lead you into your bedroom.

“Okay, one more guess. Is it a puppy?” you asked, a smile on your lips. 

“In a manner of speaking,” Ghost said, shutting the door behind you. “Go on, take the blindfold off.” 

You gasped as you lifted your blindfold off and it fluttered to the floor. Johnny knelt before you on the bed, smiling, his cheeks tinged pink. 

“Happy birthday, bonnie,” he murmured. You felt heat rush to your face, and you giggled. 

“You’ve always wanted our pup tied up and begging for you. Now’s your chance,” Ghost murmured, embracing you from behind and gently sliding one of his hands up your shirt. 

“Oh, yes. And you’re okay?” you asked Johnny, shivering from excitement as warmth stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

“More than okay, bonnie. Come sit on my face,” Johnny whined, squirming on the bed. Ghost squeezed your breast tenderly. 

“Go on, give him a go,” he murmured into your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. He guided you onto the bed and you knelt before Johnny. Though you’d been with your boyfriends a dozen times before, this new arrangement was incredibly arousing. You leaned forward, running your hands over the ropes that crisscrossed Johnny’s body as you kissed him. 

His cock throbbed against his stomach at your touch and he groaned. Ghost ran his fingers through his hair before sliding his hand down his back and squeezing his ass. 

“Poor pup, all worked up,” he cooed, and you smiled, taking the head of Johnny’s cock between two fingers. 

“Such an eager toy for me,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You made short work of your clothes, your nipples hardening in the cool air and making Johnny whine, writhing where he knelt. 

“Pretty, isn’t she, pup?” Ghost cooed, stroking Johnny’s cock slowly as they watched you undress. 

“Please sit on my face,” he whined, doing his best to lay back despite the ropes binding him. You helped him get situated before crawling up over his body, dragging your fingers over your clit before lowering yourself onto Johnny’s face. 

His cock twitched as his moans were muffled and you gasped as he shoved his tongue into you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your back arched as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently and making you writhe with pleasure. 

“Johnny!” you moaned, grinding down against his face as he devoured you, pushing his face deeper into your wetness. 

“Think you deserve a reward for making our girl feel so good, Johnny,” Simon purred, tugging his shirt over his head and sliding his pants and boxers off. He crawled onto the bed, tugging his hard cock as he settled between Johnny’s legs, spreading lube over his fingers before sliding one into Johnny. 

Johnny’s back arched and he moaned into your wetness. The vibrations against your clit made you gasp, and you trembled as that in combination with Johnny’s devourment of you made you cum. Pleasure washed over you in waves and you jerked and trembled, slumping forward and crawling off of Johnny’s face as you caught your breath.

Ghost slid another finger into Johnny and kept pumping them in and out, making Johnny moan and writhe on the bed. 

“Fuck…!” he cried. He turned his head to where you lay, your wetness drenching his face. 

“Lass, please. Ride me while Simon fucks me,” he begged. You pulled him in for a sloppy kiss before straddling his hips, nodding. 

Ghost slowly pulled his fingers out of Johnny, making him whine, but his whines turned to moans again as Ghost guided you onto Johnny’s cock. You both moaned in tandem as you sank onto him, the stretch sending waves of pleasure through you. 

Ghost pressed slowly into Johnny after you reached the base of his cock, making the Scot writhe and moan beneath you. 

“Fuck, yer gonna be the death of me. Both of ye,” he gasped, trembling. You slowly rocked your hips against him, grabbing the ropes that bound his chest and using them to pull yourself down into a kiss. 

As you rode Johnny, Ghost fucked him, sending you both sliding up the bed. You slammed your hips down into him, grinding your clit into his pelvis. As you moaned, Ghost reached around you and gently thumbed your clit, biting tenderly into your neck. 

“Fuck! I can’t last like this,” Johnny whined, his body trembling under the pleasure of your bounces and Ghost’s thrusts. 

“Let the lady cum first, Johnny,” Ghost said, picking up speed as he rubbed your clit. 

“Go on, love, cum on Johnny’s cock,” he purred in your ear. You fell over the cliff of pleasure, falling forward onto Johnny’s chest, your body spasming and your cunt tightening around his cock as you came. Johnny came almost immediately after, coating your insides with cum as he bucked his hips up into you. 

With a few last, deep, thrusts Ghost came last, his groan deafening as he came inside Johnny, leaning over your shoulder to kiss the Scot tenderly. 

You caught your breath together. Ghost was the first to step away but he returned quickly with a blade, cutting Johnny free and helping him massage the areas that had been bound. 

You pulled Johnny into an embrace as Ghost spooned you, sandwiched comfortably between your boyfriends as you came down from your highs.

[gothghostiie]

saw someone in a reel say 'next time you get your nails done show him by spreading your lips' and. reader doing exactly that with 141. do you see my vision

[thisnoah]

SoapGhost but Italy edition

[Ref: Lionfield]

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

53 / 2.7k / Alejandro being a man who knows his own sex appeal (with medic reader)

kinktober keywords: medical kink, healslutting, healing sex (so-called)

...

"Excuse me?"

Alejandro pauses at the door, looking back at you blankly for a moment before repeating himself. "You're with me," he says again, slower this time as if to make sure you've heard him. "We have things to discuss in the medbay."

Typical.

You follow him with your arms stiffly crossed.

He leads you to the medbay in relative silence, pushes open the door once you arrive, and gestures for you to walk inside first.

"Sit."

You don't. "What is there to discuss?"

His voice rasps with irritation. He tries to soften it when he speaks again. "Just sit. I'm not asking again." He nods at the table. "I'm suffering too much tension. You already know how I want to relieve it.”

You stare him down for another long moment. Then you yield--just a little--and push yourself up to sit on the edge of the examination table. "Not advisable with your injuries."

"I'm fine," he says. His gaze drifts to your legs, where your skirt has exposed several tantalizing inches of skin. "I prefer your brand of medicine."

nsfw ⬇

"I know you don't care about your injuries, Colonel, but I do."

"I know. It's your job to care. That's why I'm here. And who better to give me release than you?" He lets his fingers graze your knee and lifts them up along your inner thigh. "I need your help. You're going to be a dutiful doctora for me, aren't you?"

Your heart rises into your throat. That tone of voice. You swallow to ground yourself. How can you keep letting him do this to you? How are you still this weak? You shift, wanting to squeeze your thighs together. But Alejandro steps closer, standing between them.

He runs his hand up your leg, stopping just before his fingers brush the edge of your skirt. "You need to help your commanding officer, don't you?"

"You're hardly my commanding officer.

"Semantics," he purrs. His other palm goes to your inner knee, coaxing your legs to spread apart some more. "You're my medic, are you not?

Pulling rank on you? Does he really want to play that game? "I'm not your anything.”

"You think you're the one who's really in charge here?"

"It's not about who's in charge."

"Oh?" He almost finds your snark amusing. Almost.

"You're injured," you snap.

That makes him laugh. "That's what makes you the perfect one for the job," he tells you, letting his hands drift further up your legs. "You can't walk away from a poor soldier telling you he needs your help, can you? Even if he's being a bad patient. Not that you'd ever bring it up to your superiors. Or mine."

"No, I wouldn't. But I'm not going to help you risk popping your stitches just because you want to get your dick wet."

"Always so blunt, doctora. Always so crass. But I have faith you won't let that happen." His hands on your legs press you back on the table until you're leaning on your hands to support yourself.

He pulls the crux of your legs flush against him. The position forces you to either lean back and spread your legs to ease your weight off him or to let him pull your full weight onto his thigh and straddle it. You swallow, eyes darting down to the way your skirt is riding up. You swore you wouldn't do this again. You leave the base with your team tomorrow. You’ve already gone too far with him too many times. "Alejandro..."

"Mm," he rumbles in response to the way you say his name. He grinds his thigh up against you just to see you clench around his leg.

God damn him. There's nothing worse than a man who knows his own sex appeal.

You grab his collar, pull him forward, and close your lips around his pulse point.

He leans into your touch and braces his hand on the table next to your hip, enjoying the way your teeth graze against his skin. His hands find your hips and pull you flush against him. "That's it," he mutters. "This is what I need. Give it to me."

You push off the table and round on him to shove him against it instead. "Get on your back. You're not in any shape to top."

"So demanding." But he takes a seat on the edge of the table. "I suppose if my doctor says I'm not in any shape to top, I'll listen to her."

"For once."

"For you," he murmurs. He falls back on the table and props himself up on his elbows. He lets his legs part. His eyes drag over your body, wanting to see you naked again. "Show me how you take care of a wounded soldier."

But you don't bother stripping your clothes off--just skim your underwear down your legs and climb up onto the table to hover over him. Your eye falls to the stitches disappearing down the neckline of his shirt and running down his right pectoral. You instinctively check it for inflammation or discoloration, but it's clean. Just fresh and tender.

He watches you go through the motions of checking his stitches. He knows that you wouldn't be coming onto him if you didn't think he could do this. But it’s still irritating how focused you are on the state of his injury rather than letting yourself get carried away with his body in other ways. You leave tomorrow. There might not be a next time.

“You always so thorough, doctora?” he asks, a bit of an edge to his voice. “Or are you just stalling?”

"I'm exactly as thorough as I should be," you snap, grabbing the button and zipper of his pants and undoing them with quick, rough movements. "Regardless of what other rules you have me break."

His eyes darken as you take the initiative, but he can’t deny that he likes watching you get demanding. He lifts his hips to let you tug his pants partway down his thighs.

“You break the rules for me and I'll make sure no one can touch you for it.” His hand snakes up to your hip. “You want this? Go ahead. Take it.”

You let yourself sink down on him and hold in a breath as he fills you. You fight to keep your wits about you and you don't quite succeed.

He lets out a low, guttural moan. One hand grips the edge of the table as if he’s trying to hold onto control of himself, but then he gives up and lets his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. "That's it,” he hisses, letting his head fall back against the table. “So warm.” He rocks his hips upward, pulling you down at the same time as if he can somehow get you any closer than you are.

You flush as he pulls you forward and runs his tongue up the side of your neck. But when he starts to pump his hips against you in earnest, you push yourself up and force him to lay flat on the table again. "I told you to lay here. Don't move or you'll pop your stitches and we'll have to stop."

"Don't threaten me, doctora," he growls. But his hands fall away from your hips. He lays them flat on the table to show that he's not going to move them. "You both know you couldn't stop him if he wanted to take charge.

Still, he does like the way you're sitting on top of him. he'd just like to do something about the fact that you're still fully clothed. "Lose the shirt," he orders.

"No."

His jaw clenches. "Don't push me. You make me lie here at your mercy, and I'm not used to being controlled like that.”

He knows perfectly well that he can't command you to do a single thing. You, as his doctor, are the one calling the shots here. And despite the fact that being ordered around in his own base annoys him more than anything, you're still breaking the rules to ride his cock.

And you're slipping past the point of no return.

You pump up and down slowly, fighting to keep your breath even. You tell yourself this isn't for you, it's for him. As demanding as he is, as much of an ass he can be, this behavior is an expression of frustration. Of need.

But you make the mistake of looking down at him, and your hips stutter at the heat in his eyes.

He watches you with a need you rarely see in a man.

“Dios, doctora," he mutters. He wants you. Needs you. He runs his hands up your thighs, but he doesn’t try to take over. He lets you keep the control. For the time being, you’re the one calling all the shots. But that doesn't mean he'll be nice. "Faster," he mutters, gritting his teeth. “You can do better than that.”

He watches you as you begin to move faster, your breath coming in pants. He keeps his hands on your legs, but otherwise doesn't move. He lets you do the work--lets you take what you want from him. At least until your muscles begin to clench around him.

You bounce faster. You're still convinced you're keeping your head on straight when you jolt and gasp in a sudden fit of pleasure. An orgasm washes over you. You didn't expect it--didn't mean to do it.

A hoarse sound escapes his throat at the sudden tightening. “Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You feel so good." The way you jerk in pleasure forces a rough exhale from him. His grip on your hips gets tighter as he fights to keep his hands there, wanting to grab you and push you down in the heat of the moment but restraining himself. “I knew you’d be good to me. You give in just as good as you put out.”

You pant wordlessly. You still for a moment, shuddering in the pleasurable aftershocks. But then a clatter in the next room reminds you there's no time to waste. You get to moving your hips again, sluggish but dogged, to give the colonel the release he needs.

"That's it. Just keep going," he says. His voice is thick with desire, his body tensing as he approaches his own peak. "No te pares," he gasps. "Please, don't stop. Just keep going. I'm close." He's not used to begging, but he can admit to himself that he needs this, and he needs you.

You do as he says, slamming your hips down onto his over and over to jar him loose. The pace is brutal and that’s how he needs it. This is his medicine. He lets out a string of unintelligible Spanish at your pace, his hands squeezing your hips as the fire in his lower abdomen burns hot. He grits his teeth and locks his eyes on yours.

“Madre del Dios, you’re going to kill me,” he mutters. “You’re going to have me bleeding all over again.”

"Don't you dare," you growl. You keep a sharp eye on his stitches to watch for signs of strain.

Alejandro is too far gone to notice. “Or what, doctora?” he asks. He reaches up and hooks two fingers into the neckline of your shirt. The weight of his arm alone threatens to pop the button wide open. “Are you going to punish me?”

You grit your teeth and let him open up your uniform top to see your body as you bounce. You even help him along with undoing the buttons. To shut him up, you tell yourself.

He falls silent. His eyes fix on your chest, on every square inch of skin. "Oh, you are beautiful." He's rapt at the way your body moves. "Teasing me like that. Teasing a wounded man."

Wounded, your ass.

You keep it up, knowing he's close. But before you can stop him, he pulls you against him again, teeth at your chest, pulling a cry of protest out of you at the sharp pain. His hips buck hard. You struggle a little, but you let him pull you close, letting him nip and bite at your skin. He wants to mark you as his, even if you’re only his to own for the moment.

“Take it,” he growls, his voice rough.

"Alejandro-!"

He lets out a guttural, feral moan as his climax washes over him. 

He rocks your hips together slowly, riding the waves of his release. He doesn’t let go of you, even though it’s over. You shiver, unable to do anything but let him move your hips for you. He just needs this a bit longer.

Finally, he releases you and lets his head fall back against the table. His eyes flutter closed. His teeth leave indents in your skin. Nothing major, but there will be marks all over you that will be there for a while. Proof of what you've done here with him.

“You wear me out.”

"Good. You need more rest," you mutter, easing off him.

He lets out a huff of almost-laughter. He lets you sit back on the table next to him and swipes a sweat-damp lock of hair out of his face.

“I have to admit… you’ve got an interesting bedside manner,“ he says.

"And you are the worst patient I've had the displeasure of encountering on this base. That's a high fucking bar, too."

“I never liked to stay still for the doctor.” He props himself up on the table on his elbows and looks over at you. “You’ll have worse patients in the States, surely.”

You stand up gingerly, testing your shaky legs before you walk. "You need to watch yourself. No drills. No resistance training. Only physical therapy. You got that? If you tear your stitches again, there will be hell to pay."

“I can handle it,” he insists, a note of irritation creeping into his voice now that you’ve turned the topic to his injury again. “I won’t tear any stitches, I’ve done this before. I’m plenty tough. I can handle a drill or two.”

You round on him and jab your finger into his chest. "No. No drills or else. I'll ban you from training altogether if I have to."

"You’ll ban me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Try it. I'd like to see you try to keep me in bed with your panties on."

"It won't be me. It'll be Rodolpho. He's just as worried about you."

That gets him. He knows damn well that every other Vaquero wants him to heal up. "Fine. No drills. But only because I don't want to spend the next few weeks with those pendejos lecturing me. They're a bigger pain in the ass than you are."

You scoff and turn away. "You were singing a very different song a minute ago."

"And then you start going all doctor on me.”

"Yeah, well. You've clearly demonstrated you're capable of taking orders when it suits you. You're just choosing not to."

The corner of his lips curve in a smug little smirk. “I take orders I'm willing to follow,” he says. “I don’t do well with people telling me what to do. You just have a way of making me forget that.”

Of course. He'll let you get away with ordering him around when he feels like it. And when he's not in the mood, it's a hell of a time getting him to listen to you. Typical.

"Do whatever you want, then," you tell him, buttoning up your uniform. "But don't come crying to the next medic when you bust a stitch. If you're so self-reliant, if you know everything, then you fix yourself."

"Oh, I will, doctora." He lets out a little huff as you leave the room, rolling his eyes. Of course you’d get pissed at him, just like that. He doesn’t bother to call you back and apologize. He’s not the sorry type. Not even if this is the last time he sees you go and it's you going off in a huff.

As a matter of principle, he won't give you the satisfaction of crawling back.

But you’ll still come around. You always do.

...

more Alejandro / masterlist

[maurythehormonemonster]

Kinktober day seven. Orgasm Denial - Simon Riley // (gn! reader)

CW: Sub! Simon (the poor guy just needs a break honestly), handjob, soft and sweet orgasm denial.

YESTERDAY’S FIC IS NOT GOING. Unfortunately i’ll probs have to change the entirety of it to work, or do bull rider! Graves and make your husband some poor sod.

(also if the formatting is fucked it’s because I don’t have my laptop)

But!! Enoughhh about that! Have some Simon who is tired!

Maury’s masterlist

Simon got home after a mission and he was just irritable. You didn’t know why, you had tried to ask but he just grumbled something before going to sit on the couch.

You huffed as you put dinner away, slamming cupboards, throwing the metal forks into the drawer. Was it petty? Maybe. Was Simon also getting on your last nerve? Yes.

He didn’t even budge, his eyes trained to the blurring TV. He knew you were upset with him, but he didn’t know how to confront it. He just needed a break. His brain was going too fast for comfort and could hear his blood pumping in his fucking ears.

The evening continued like that. You would try and get close to him and he would brush your touch off. You tried to talk to him and he took a sip of his beer, ignoring you entirely. At some point you had enough! You stood up and said you were going to bed but Simon grabbed your wrist and dragged you back down next to him without a word being said.

“Simon, you’re being ridiculous! Why don’t you just talk to me?” You were pleading with him at this point. Even though you were still angry, no- fuming, you could understand, just a tad. He was stressed to no end. “God, baby.. I need you to talk to me.” Silence. You grabbed his face with one hand and turned him to look at you. “Simon, please… You can’t shut me out. Not now, not ever. I won’t let you.”

He blinked at you a few times, trying to regain his grip on reality. He focused on your hand touching him so gently, and your eyes that scanned his own for an answer you wouldn’t get. At least not tonight. Simon couldn’t bring himself to speak.

He leaned forwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Not hungry, or aggressive like he was sometimes but tender. Feeling your soft lips slot against him held something deeper than he would’ve ever dreamed of. Ghost, the feared Lieutenant wasn’t around right now. Simon took his place. The man that would bring you the moon and stars from the sky if you asked for it.

Your hand continued to hold his face as you melted into the kiss. He brought his own slightly shaky ones to hold your hips. When you pulled away and your eyes fluttered open you saw the vulnerability, the need to just not think behind his, oh so, beautiful eyes.

The hands that he used to kill so many people held you as if you were made of glass. Softly, gently. One of the many things you taught him how to do. How to be honest, without having to say anything. He’s never known a true home a day in his life, and yet, you stay.

“You need me to take care of you, baby, don’t you?” You whispered gingerly, lips only an inch away from his. He nodded, his breath picking up. He needed to stop thinking.

Your hand’s travelled down his chest and came to rest on his jean cladded bulge, stroking your hand over it. You could feel him harden under the slightest touch. Your poor baby. You slowly unzipped his jeans, and he helped you get them down his hips slightly.

You shifted slightly, pulling his back into your chest, one hand rested under his chin. “You don’t finish until I say. Understand?” You waited for his response which came through with a quiet “yes.”

“Good boy…” You stroked him slowly at first, still keeping him tucked away in his boxers until you saw them start to darken slightly from the precum that leaked from his tip.

You held his face into the crook of your neck as you finally pulled him free out of his boxers. His cock already twitching in your palm. “Just needed to let me take care of you. There’s no shame in that.” You hummed, swiping your thumb over his slit to gather some of his precum as lube before you properly began to stroke him.

Tiny pants left his lips, warm breath hitting your neck. He fisted his hands into the couch cushions, trying to will himself not to finish all over your hand. “Ohh, that’s my boy.. Come on, you can hold it for me.” Your voice was far too sweet for him to be able to last like this.

His abs tightened and you stopped your movements, eliciting a whimper to come from the back of his throat. “It’s okay, I've got you.” You reassured him as you started up again, watching the way he bit his lip and hid his eyes in your neck. He couldn’t look, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

You sped up, occasionally swiping your hand over his slit to get him to arch slightly, revelling in the way that only you can make him act like this, feel like this. You saw it again, the way his knuckles turned white from grasping at the material on the couch.

This time when you pulled away, a full on sob ripped through him. He didn’t even realize he was crying. “Please, God please.” He begged, hips rutting upwards to try and feel your hand around him.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, staying there for a moment as your other hand ran through his cropped blond hair. “Shhh, my love. Soon, I promise, I just need you to hold off a little bit longer.” You soothed him as best you could, peppering kisses over his wet cheeks and his forehead.

Your hand started stroking him again, this time slower than you had gone before. You needed him to feel instead of think.

Simon was desperate for release at this point. He could feel the weight of your hand against him. “Can I? Please, I need to- I- I can’t!” His voice was shaky and whiny, a stark contrast from his usual self.

You smiled, pressing your lips to his before nodding. “Come on, love..” And with that he was spilling over your hand with a moan, back arching off of the couch while his chest heaved. His warm cum dripped down your fingers and you brought them to your lips, licking them clean.

Simon turned in your grip and pressed his entire body weight against you, his face buried into your chest while his big arms snaked to wrap around you. “Thank you.” He whispered, finally able to embrace you properly.

Your hands ran through his hair as you watched him slowly calm down again. “You never need to thank me.” You watched his eyes flutter closed as the sleep he so desperately needed consumed him in an instant. You followed him quickly. With his arms wrapped around you, there was really nowhere else to go.

It would be pathetic to someone else, maybe. A big soldier like Simon falling apart in your hands. Though, it only made that big part of your heart that already held so much love for him open wider, wanting to encapsulate him in your embrace until the end of time.

[xxetherealsweetheartxx]

GAZ IS A NERDY GAMER MARK MY WORDS

I JUST KNOW DEEP DOWN THAT GAZ IS A NERD!! I know he loves reading comics and likes collecting figurines. I know he spends an absurd amount of money on merch. He’s so gamer coded too. He probably loves fighting games or anything competitive where he can beat your ass in it only to give you a kiss as an apology. Kyle doesn’t strike me as someone who would stick to one genre but rather explore everything gaming has to offer. One moment he’s beating Soap’s ass in Mortal Kombat and in another he’s tending his farm in Stardew Valley and the next he’s escaping some insane person in Outlast. He definitely loves playing games where multiple people can join and he always makes sure to include you in his gaming sessions. He just loves going full gamer youtuber mode and provide you with the best commentary. "Hey guys, welcome to another let's play of Resident Evil 4. Last time we left off where-" "Who are you talking to right now."

(I'm in love with this man so much, fuck ya'll for ignoring him for that 6'9 austrian bitch🖕)