#cw mating press

[strawberrystepmom]

men who cannot help but press the front of their thighs against the backs of yours while they mount you, licking and panting into your mouth. folding your legs so that they're pressed against your chest, begging for the opportunity to spill as deeply inside of you as they can, to feel your warmth milk them of all of the seed they can possibly muster, to stay in place until they're comfortable none can slip out of you. whispering in your ear that it's gonna take this time, he's gonna make sure of it, staying squatted and mounting you for as long as it takes.

#cw breeding kink #cw mating press #LEACE ME ALONEEEEE IM IN HELL IN THE SEVENTH RING #akitaru obi u are on my mind baby

[wolfnlamb]

I want kisses on my forehead while being folded in half. *inhuman screaming*

#cw mating press #happy Monday #Mountain aki where are you.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Translation: Mine, Yours

Some words are better translated using body language. Warning: Erriox/Lenora smut.

Dialogue spoken in High Gothic is in bolded italics.

Author's note: Short and smutty. Also cw: SMUT. My piece for #mating press march. Hope it's hot enough. Lol.

OCs: Erriox (Iron Warrior); Lenora

Tagged: @kit-williams, @bleedingichorhearts, @shadowfirecat, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

“You will smell of no one but me. Speak no one else’s name but mine. Think of no one but me. You are mine. Mine to have. Mine to claim.” Erriox growled into her ear. Each squelching thrust emphasizing each sentence.

Mine. Mine. Mine… was all Lenora could hear. She whimpered. All she could smell was him. All she could feel was him. He was her Astartes. Her Iron Warrior. Her Erriox. Her mind spiraled, threatening to drown her in the pleasure of it all.

“Look at me. Who do you belong to?” His stormy blue eyes bored straight into her soul. 

She scrambled to put together a coherent thought, “You...” 

“In Gothic!” He snarled, snapping his hips. 

Back arching, eyes rolling into her head, Lenora mewled, “I’m yours…! I belong to you…” 

Not satisfied with her response, “Louder!” He commanded. Bullying his cock into her gummy walls, angling so he would hit that sweet spot that left her screaming. Driving home his message.  “Who do you belong to?”

Lenora wailed, “Aanngh! You! Erriox! I belong to you!” Her overstimulated, sex-addled brain could barely register what she was saying. She could feel the stretch of his length filling her; feel the mess of slick and his cum between them dripping down her thighs, wetting the bedspread underneath. She whined. Her leg kicked out helplessly as she tried to hook her leg around him, trying to draw herself closer. Her fingers digging into his arms, trying to ground herself in some way. Erriox snarled, pinning her hips to the bed, relentlessly pushing her towards the edge. 

“Beg for it.”

Her eyes flicked up towards him, fierce and angry, having had enough of his teasing, “No! No more!” She snarled back. And promptly pulled herself to him and sank her teeth into the meat of his shoulder. 

Erriox yanked her head back by her hair. He grinned fiercely, teeth baring, “You call that a bite?” He scoffed. He drove his cock into her roughly and deeply, groaning as he felt her tighten around him with each punishing thrust. He knew that she enjoyed that as much as he did. 

“Let me…” he grunted, “show you…” another thrust, another moan, “…what a proper bite is!” He bit down hard into the side of her neck, breaking skin. Lenora keened wordlessly, clamping down onto him as pain and pleasure threw her over the edge. Himself, following not long after, swallowing her moans with a searing kiss. His arms grasped her tightly as he painted her insides with his seed. 

They lay there nestled into one another, sweaty foreheads pressed together, slowly coming down from their high. Lenora let out a shuddering breath, “That was… intense,… but god… that was good.” Ending in a giggle. She pressed her lips to his, sweet and loving. Erriox chuckled as he returned her affections, preening at her compliment. He then lathed his tongue over his bite mark, tasting the iron in her blood as he cleaned the wound. Erriox wasn’t into biting and drinking blood as intensely as his Blood Angel cousins, but he could admit that there was something darkly satisfying about biting and marking his Lenora.

He nuzzled her, nosing against her cheek, “Are you alright?”

Warm brown eyes met his stormy blue, “I’m ok.” Lenora nuzzled back, “Thank you…” she murmured, before claiming his lips again. Wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Erriox purred contentedly as he pressed deeper into her kiss; one hand sliding down the small of her back, the other giving her ass an affectionate squeeze before pulling her body in ever closer. He pulled away slightly, lips brushing hers, rumbling, “I am yours as you are mine.”

Smiling, Lenora kissed his scarred lips as she breathed, “I’m yours for as long as you are mine.”

#cw smut #mating press march #space marine husbandry sentience #oc: erriox #oc: lenora #iron warriors

[seakicker]

i am literally throbbing and would love to know ur thoughts on rinne having a breeding kink???? listen he’s supposed to be the next chief to his village im sure they taught him that he needs to be prepared to make an heir so when he finally starts he’s just doing whatever he can to knock a girl up like it’s literally a challenge for him and he loves it lol

rinne breeding kink content… the nostalgia…. i love it

my thoughts are a resounding YES because who’s better for breeding kink content than someone with a real external incentive to create a future heir? like someone who’s part of a distinguished family and has a duty to keep their bloodline going, someone with a massive business who wants to ensure their market share never dwindles, that sort of thing... this idea of "i need to secure an heir" trickles down from generation to generation and so it certainly isn't lost on rinne; he's an heir himself so of course he understands the importance of making one.

slightly crack maybe but breeding also gets him going as a form of chance-- forgoing condoms on the days immediately preceding and succeeding your planned ovulation day, all that jazz. it's a fun little gamble and the way your eyes widen in a sort of frantic terror when he finishes inside is just too cute to resist, yknow?

#i am a firm believer in rinne’s favorite position being mating press #cw breeding #rinne amagi smut #rinne amagi x reader #tw babytrapping #kinda

[rottiens]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGemeGKXK/

Oh, i would've made him daddy so fast

Till the room stinks 😵‍💫

#asks #lovers ₊˚ᰔ #Can we talk about the breeding kink of husband nanami? ?? Yeah #always thinking about his thighs #and how heavy they would feel on mating press #the idea of making him a daddy makes me feel things #cw breeding kink

[silveryclear]

Yan! Wolfboy X Fem! Reader

CW: NSFW, Non-con, rough sex, needy, desperate sex, whimpering, cuminflation, somnophilia, breeding kink, loss of virginity, teratophilia, stalking

Part 2

Plap plap plap

The sound of wet, rapid thrusts echoed in the room. It was needy and desperate— the need to breed sent him into a rut as he rammed his fat cock into your cum filled pussy. The sight of you under him, restrained and teary eyed was enough to make him hard over and over again, even after cumming inside you thrice already.

“Hnngh… mmm… ahhh~!” His whines fill the room, drunk from the tight warmth of your virgin cunt. He knew you’d make the best mate from the way he watched you from afar. You’re just so submissive and responsive to everything he does to you. Especially when you’re half asleep. And you saved yourself for him too! He wanted to take it slow and ease you into it, but as soon as he delved his cock into your wet heat, he was a goner.

He let out a string of needy whimpers as he felt you tighten around him and release your lovely essence on this throbbing cock. The scent of your juices mixed together sent him into a rutting frenzy, pounding you from behind, from the side— but his absolute favorite was the mating press he had folded you into, allowing him to reach the deep crevices of your warm, sopping cunt.

“Mate… mine… nngh..” He was panting heavily, mouth open and tongue out. His thrusts were deep fast, bullying your cervix with the same fervor from the beginning of your encounter. And he has no intention of stopping. Not when you are still coherent. No, he needs to make sure you’re thoroughly bred. That you’re so full of his cum that it looks like you’re pregnant. That you can’t even think of anything other than his cock. “Must breed… hnnngh.. ahhh~!” He lets out a particularly long whine when he felt you squeeze his cock. Oh fuck, you were getting off on this.

He groans at the feeling. “My pretty mate… I’m gonna fill you up so good… gonna look so pretty with my pups~”

You let out a soft moan. Even in your dreamlike state, your body still responded to his. How lucky he is to have found you— and now, you’re his forever~

#yandere #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere smut #smut #werewolf #werewolf x reader

[6gumi]

oh my! what a naughty bunny!

synopsis﹒honkai star rail men n’ their bunny girlfriend !

pairings﹒boothill 、sunday 、dr ratio 、aventurine 、gallagher x bunny fem!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited. mild dacryphilia ( dr ratio 、sunday ) 、mating press ( gallgaher . . . becuz he’s big ) 、spanking ( dr ratio ) 、fingering ( aventurine ) 、cunilingus ( aventurine ) 、blowie ( sunday ) 、dirty talk ( boothill ) 、 some of them tug on ur ears :> 、petnames ( bunny 、sugar 、etc ! )

note﹒i am slowly catchin’ up in honkai star rail so i decided tew write these ! ! :33 been thinkin’ hard about dis anyways so . . it doesn’t hurt to write a lil sumn ! mistakes might be found . . | reblogs are highly appreciated. feel free to send me an ask if you would like to talk t’me or send a thirst/rq ! — millie ♡

୨୧ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

boothill couldn't help but chuckle at your pathetic attempts to resist him, you were the one who wanted him first and begging for him to fuck you . . . why are you changing your mind now? your struggles were utterly adorable and only further fueled his desire. “oh sugar," he muttered gently, reaching out to cup your chin. his eyes softened as he looked into your tear-filled eyes. the cowboy knew your body was aching for release, the desperation and excitement coursing through your veins. "i can’t understand ya, baby," he whispered, leaning in close to your ear. "do you want me or nah? ‘cause i’ll walk ‘outta this room if you keep whinin’ and grindin’ against me like this, be vocal. tell me what ‘cha need.”

“n—no! don’t wanna!”

“don’t wanna what, bunny? use ya words.”

“i . . don’t want you to walk out . .”

“good girl. see, wasn’t s’ hard to use your words, yeah?” boothill chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he met your gaze. His eyes darkened with desire, but there was still a playful twinkle within. “such a slutty bunny,” the cowboy gave you a wicked grin, his hand trailing down your exposed stomach, stopping just above your panties. the fabric was damp from your arousal, and he couldn't help but smirk. “listen baby, ima reward you if you're a good girl . . a real pleasure show for a real naughty bunny like you."

your ears twitched at his words, squealing when he pulled you even closer. “am not a naughty bunny . . .” “yeah? ya sure?” his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "we’ll see about that. we’ll see how long you’ll last with my cock inside this pussy. trust me, sugar . . . you'll enjoy it more than you ever thought possible. just like the slutty and naughty bunny you are.”

୨୧ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

“now now, don’t cry," sunday soothed, his voice low and sultry. “we’ve got a lot of time tonight, sweetheart. maybe i’ll teach you a few lessons on how to suck on my cock properly . . you’re quite sloppy, my beloved.” sunday echoed, his monotone voice full of amusement as he leaned down, capturing your tearful gaze with his own. he gently lifted your chin, his thumb wiping away a stray crystal tear. his dick twitched in your throat when he kept his gaze on your teary eyed face . . fuck. he wanted to see more of that. “beloved . . .” he cooed, feeling the rush of pleasure course through his body as he thrust into your warm, wet throat . . his hand slowly wrapping itself around both your cute little rabbit ears, tugging you forward. he could feel you struggle, the way you gagged and choked on his length, it sent a thrill of excitement through him. your boyfriend gripped your ears tighter, guiding the movement as his thrusts grew eager.

“that’s it, angel, take it. take all of it.” sunday murmured, his voice hoarse with lust. at this point, he could feel his release building up, the tension coiling in his gut. “swallow it, choke on it, make it yours." the halovian male slammed into your poor little throat, knowing he owes you warm tea and breakfast the next morning! your moans were heavily muffled by his thick cock filling your throat. the mere sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by sunday’s grunts and your whines, increasing the tears that spilled from your pretty eyes. the wave of ecstasy crashing over your boyfriend and you knew it. his orgasm hit him like a foreign train, flooding your throat with his essence . . . holding you in place by your bunny ears.

“mmh . . . that was good, my little angel." his hand traced over your cheek, “but we might have to work on your gag reflex.”

୨୧ 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

SMACK! a loud sound reverberated around the room . . your fluffy white tail twitched in veritas’ hold. with a force of movement, he pulled you up . . . using your tail as a leverage as he chuckled, smacking your ass again . . . you could almost feel it warming up. “naughty bunny you are. you thought it was a good idea to send me erotic pictures?” veritas’ fingers worked on your skirt, pulling it up and off. he discarded it on the floor of your shared room, leaving you in your underwear. dr ratio couldn’t help but bite his lip at the sight of your tears streaming down your face, murmuring pleas for him to pound you. aeons . . . you were such a naughty bunny. the naughtiest bunny he’d ever come across. " . . . foolish girl. your desires have consequences," he growled, “you’re a naughty slut. it’s like you’re begging me to pound you when you cry like that . . .” he adjusted himself, positioning himself at your entrance.

he raised a brow, admiring your precious submission he yearned for. the sight of you pleading for more, bunny ears twitching, breasts bouncing invitingly, your sparkly-like eyes that produced tears, sent shivers down his spine. he leaned up, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. his tongue delved deep, tasting his bunny’s need and desire. dr ratio wanted to push you further, testing how far he could take you before breaking point. pulling away, his large hands found themselves on your ass again, running his hands along your flesh . . , raising it for another smack. “you’re insatiable, aren't you? let me remind you again, girl, bad bunnies get punished for being naughty. or have you forgotten that?”

୨୧ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

your boyfriend’s eyes lit up at the sight of your pussy, glistening with desire. he loved every part of you, basking in the warmth of your body as he chuckled . . . reaching up to caress your little ears that he wouldn’t trade for anything else. “damn, you're soaked," he murmured, licking his lips. "i can't wait to taste you.” aventurine moved closer between your legs, pushing your thighs apart further with a smirk, flicking your bud with his thumb. “spread them wider for me, bunny." aventurine’s eyes widened as he saw how wet you were. he had to fight the urge to dive headfirst into your pussy. he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "you’re so ready for me, aren't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. with an eager nod, he slowly slipped his two fingers inside, filling you up pure lustrous intent. “m—more ‘turine . . .” a soft chuckle emitted from your boyfriend as he lowered his head, licking your inner thighs. "i know bunny, i know what i’m doing.” but yet, he wanted to hear you beg for it, to know that you desired him as much as he did you.

“c’mon baby . . . say this for me.” his tongue flicked against your outer lips, tasting your sweet nectar. "say . . “please, aven” . . .” he begged himself. "eat me out." his eyes fluttered open, narrowing dangerously . . . he couldn’t help but devour you with his gaze. “ . . please aven . . ‘w—want you to eat me out.” “that’s my good bunny.” aventurine’s tongue darted painfully slowly in and out of your pussy, teasing your walls. as he licked and sucked your clit, his fingers explored the depths inside your pussy, the gambler wanted to touch every inch of you, to know your body better than his own. he was determined to make you cum hard, just like he knew you'd make him. although in the back of his mind, he knew he had to fill out the paperwork that’s been due for days! but right now, all he cared about was making his cute bunny scream his name. he wanted to make you forget about everything else in the world in that dumb little head of yours except for him.

୨୧ 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑

you were so small against him. not only was he obsessed with your cute lil’ rabbit features, he was also obsessed with how cute and adorable you were against him, legs he had to restrain with his own hands due to you moving around too much . . . your cries echoed in the room, punctuating your passionate lovemaking. each groan fueled his dominance, reinforcing his love for you. gallagher gently placed his hand over the bulge on your belly, biting his lip at the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of your belly, grunting when he caught sight of your ears twitching. shit, you were adorable. “fuck, you’re fuckin’ tiny, baby, i could break you whenever i please if i wanted to.” his cock reached the deepest parts of your pussy in this position, knowing he wouldn’t last long with your legs pinned up against the mattress.

with a tug of your ears, gallagher savored the sound of your cries, your body folding under his weight . . your pussy taking his big dick so well heightened his arousal, driving him further into depravity. his thrusts grew more fervent, each one a declaration of love. “. . ‘m foldin’ you left and right, baby. see how good your pussy sucks it in?” with a growl, his hand gripped your ears lightly . . . sparking something primal within him. gallagher kissed you roughly like a starved man, bruising lips colliding fiercely with yours as his tongue invaded your mouth. the harsh mating press position made it harder for you to move around, trying to keep up with his harsh movements and thrusts at the same time! heavy breathing filled the room, punctuated by occasional cries of lust and pleasure. gallagher was taking what he wanted, his lil’ bunny girlfriend.

© 6GUMI. please do not modify 、translate 、share my works on other platforms 、or consider them as yours.

#millie’s writings ✔︎ #took so long . . . so sorrie every1 ! ! #honkai star rail #hsr smut #dr ratio smut #hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #honkai star rail smut #sunday smut #boothill smut #sunday x reader #aventurine x reader #gallagher smut #aventurine smut #gallagher x reader #boothill x reader

[rowarn]

MONSTER (m.)

neighbor!simon riley x reader

tags: zombie apocalypse au, neighbors to lovers, afab!reader, no pronouns, hurt/comfort, smut, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

cw: description of corpses, simon is aggressive towards you, but also very soft!simon, protective!simon, violence, simon does murder someone, lots of kissing, wet&messy sex, multiple orgasms, edging (simon), missionary position, mating press, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, breast play, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, eye contact, praise, teeny bit talkin u thru it

note: i think that's all the neccessary warnings but if u think smthn else should be added, let me know. please enjoy this MONSTER fic!!!

; you find yourself hiding out in your apartment as the undead begin walking. luckily, you have a well-trained military operative as a neighbor who is more than willing to keep you safe.

16.5k

“Residents are advised to remain in their homes. Authorities are unsure what is causing the severe aggression in people but the military has been called in nationwide. Please stay tuned as more information becomes available.” 

That was the first news broadcast. They reported  people getting sick-- airborne is what they had said. Stay inside, and stay away from other people. 

So you did just that – stayed hidden away in your apartment, glued to your television for every possible news cast that you could get. 

It was only a week later that the whole story had come out. 

The airborne strain is what caused the first swell of infections. Anyone who was susceptible to the infection would have already become sick by now. But those who were infected by the airborne strain turned…feral. They became like wild animals, barely human. Their skin rotted around them while they were still alive. Their brains died but their hearts remained pumping. They were walking corpses that had a vicious hunger for human flesh. 

The bites are what caused the following wave of infections. Something in their saliva turned you into whatever they were. 

You were scared. When you looked outside your window, down just a few floors to the ground, you could see hordes of people stumbling around, shuffling and shambling. 

Sometimes you would hide in your bathroom as the sounds of gunfire filled the city. It was the worst when it was the middle of the night. 

You weren’t equipped to deal with a disaster of this level – humans turning into disease spreading killers. You were having to ration your food, waiting for the day that there would be an announcement that it was safe. 

You wanted it all to be over. 

Then the news broadcasts stopped, cell service dropped, and the populace was left in the dark. 

You kept the lights off in your apartment, scared that the wandering hordes outside would see it and find you.

You had no idea how long you had been hiding in your apartment, spending most nights with your knees to your chest as you watched the static on the TV. You held out hope that the news broadcast would come back, but it never did. You spent the days and nights in mundane monotony, hopelessness settling in. 

The only interruption was a heavy knock on your front door, practically making you jump out of your skin at the sound of it. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually approach your apartment in search of you. It terrified you that anyone could be out there at a time like this.

With wide eyes and trembling hands, you grabbed a kitchen knife off of your counter and tiptoed towards the front door. Peeking through the peep-hole, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

Throwing the door open, you were faced with the familiar balaclava of your neighbor across the hall.

“Simon…” you whispered in relief. 

He wasn’t lunging nor did he have the milky-white eyes of the undead that you had seen on the news. He was normal. 

“What’re you planning to do with that?” he asked, eyeing the kitchen knife still in your hand.

“Oh!” you gasped, quickly placing it on the table by your front door, “Sorry, you– you– startled me when you knocked. Would you like to come in?”

His lidded, brown eyes gaze around your apartment behind you before landing on you again, “You have anyone else in there?”

You blink and slowly shake your head, “No, I’m alone.”

His brows furrow at that, “You’ve been by yourself this whole time?”

You shrug and nod, “What else was I supposed to do? The news reports said to stay inside…”

He hums, “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine,” you respond quickly, “Why?”

Suddenly there’s a hand on your forehead and you realize he’s checking your temperature. You remain still and allow him to do it before he's shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. 

“Fever’s the first symptom,” he explains, “I’m goin’ door to door to check on everyone.”

“Oh!” you gasp, smiling, “That’s very nice of you, Simon.”

You knew that Simon was in the military. He was often out on long deployments and sometimes he had tasked you with keeping an eye on his apartment since you were right across the hall from him.

He was a nice enough guy, if not a little cold and blunt. He was tall and broad, clearly well built despite the fact that he usually wore a hoodie that hid his biceps from view. You’d gotten glimpses of his tattoos when you had knocked on his door one evening and asked him if he knew anything about water heaters because your hot water had been out for nearly a month in the dead of winter and the apartment manager hadn’t done anything to help you.

Simon had kindly come to your apartment, even though it was nearing midnight, rolled his sleeves up and fixed your problem within the hour. You had baked him cookies as a thank you that following weekend. 

“How is everyone doing..?” you venture to ask, leaning against the doorjamb as a breeze flows into your apartment from the open door.

He casts a glance down the hallway, almost like he’s thinking before sighing, “Few people are sick. They’ve been…” he hesitates for a moment, “Quarantined.”

“Probably for the best,” you respond, “Keep them from hurting anyone when they…turn.”

It feels so surreal to be talking about confining people to keep them from literally eating the healthy people. But it seems that’s where you’re all at now. 

“I’m going to barricade our floor,” he says suddenly, “Keep anyone from comin’ in that’s not supposed to come in.”

“What if we need to leave?” you ask, concerned, “We’re only going to have finite food and resources between us. The power’s also going to go out sooner rather than later, Simon.”

“I know,” he sighs, “But we should stay indoors for as long as possible. When the power runs out and we run out of supplies, we can figure out what to do next,” he explains, “The military was on the ground here last I heard, you’ve heard the gunshots. I don’t believe they’ll last much longer but it’s not wise for us to go out while they’re tryin’ to eliminate as many of these…undead as they can.”

“I guess that makes sense…” you whisper before his words finally settle on you, “What do you mean you don’t think they’ll last much longer..?”

He levels a hard stare at you that makes your heart race in anxiety. Simon was always a serious individual by nature but this is how you imagine he looks when he’s on duty, “Hundreds of thousands of people are sick out there. The airborne strain no doubt got to hundreds of the soldiers meant to be protecting the civilians. Eventually, they’ll eat each other from the inside out –literally.”

“You mean even the military is going to collapse..?” you ask, horrified. You try not to let the tears fill your eyes but Simon’s words fill you with a dreadful sense of hopelessness. 

“Communications are cut,” he says finally, “Radio’s been silent all day. Not sure what’s goin’ on but it’s not good.”

The tears quickly began to fall down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them away, a calloused thumb was doing it. You sniffled and looked up at him.

“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you confessed softly, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, Simon.”

“Don’t you worry about that, love,” he whispered, grabbing your chin gently to make you look up at him, “I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

“I don’t want to be a burden…” you explain, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of you,” he joked, though it held little humor, “You won’t be a burden. I’ll teach you what you need to know, alright?”

“You will?” he nods when you look up at him hopefully and you smile, “Thank you, Simon. I don’t really want to die by getting eaten by walking corpses.”

He chuckled under his mask, brown eyes crinkling around the edges a bit, “It is pretty fuckin’ mad, isn’t it?” You laugh, the first genuine smile you’ve cracked since before that first news broadcast, “Why don’t you come across the hall and stay with me, yeah?”

“Is that okay..?” You can’t deny the idea of being with company sounded more appealing than anything. You were definitely beginning to feel the ebbs of loneliness creeping in on you as the days of silence passed. Plus, Simon was…safe, “The news said not to…mingle in case of the disease spreading.”

He scoffed, “Rules like that don’t really apply anymore, love,” he mutters softly, “Plus, neither of us is sick so it’s not like we’ll spread it anyway. I can teach you some knife work and how to use a gun easier if we’re together, yeah?”

“Okay,” you smile, excitement surging in your chest, replacing the painful void of hopelessness you had, “Let me just get some things together and I’ll be right over, okay?”

“Sounds good, love,” you can tell he’s smiling under the mask. He gives you a pat on the shoulder before stepping away, “Just knock when you’re ready.”

You stand in your doorway until he disappears into his apartment. Once you’re alone, you cast a cursory glance around your living room, eyeballing everything you need to take before you dash into your bedroom. From the back of your closet, you grab a duffle bag that you have stowed away in the back of your closet from when you first moved in.

Navigating in the dark of your apartment was a bit of a challenge but you managed to stuff all the essentials into the bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you step out of your apartment, making sure it was locked before knocking on Simon’s door. 

He opened it quickly, still wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and balaclava as before – his hood still up as well. He stepped aside for you to enter.

Unlike you, his apartment was illuminated by lamps – but his windows were covered with blackout curtains so no light would seep outside. It was pretty plainly decorated, just the essentials and a few photographs on the walls; upon closer inspection it looked like him and, you assumed, his comrades. 

You went to place your bag down but he stopped you, “I cleared out a drawer for you to put your clothes in for the time bein’.”

“Oh…” you gaped at him, surprised to hear that he had done something like that for you, “Thank you, Simon.”

He led you to his bedroom, standing in the hallway while you walked in. His bedroom was darkly decorated, black out curtains on the windows, navy blue sheets and a black comforter on his bed. His furniture was all dark toned as well. 

It suited him, you thought.

There were two drawers open and empty, letting you know that those were yours for the taking. You knelt down and opened your duffle bag, carefully folding and placing your items inside. When you got to your undergarments, you cast a glance towards the door to find that he was no longer standing there. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly filled the top drawer with all of your delicates before closing the drawers and standing up. 

Flicking on the light to his en suite bathroom, you placed your toothbrush and toothpaste alongside his, the sight making you blush before you went to add your belongings into the shower as well. 

Realistically, you knew that the water was going to go out sooner or later but you planned to enjoy it for as long as you possibly could until then. 

When you ventured into the living room, Simon was in the kitchen, the cabinets open as he scanned over all of his belongings.

“Is something wrong..?” you asked softly.

“Thinkin’ of how to ration,” he replied quickly, “Have you got any stuff over at yours still?”

You nod your head, “It’s not much but I have some canned food and like...rice and stuff if you want that.”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to consolidate all our supplies in the long run,” he explained, “You got your keys?”

“Yes!” you pull your keyring from your pocket and drop it into his open palm.

“I’ll be right back love, make yourself at home,” he gave you a gentle nudge towards the couch before leaving you there. 

You took a seat on the couch, realizing just how tired you were. You hadn’t realized how tense you’re been for so long on your own. Now that you were safe and with company, you could almost feel the tension sliding right off of you. You rested your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, intending to just rest your eyes and enjoy the peace you felt. 

You were startled awake by the sound of the door slamming shut. You nearly jumped out of your skin, wide eyes finding Simon’s who looked a little sheepish.

“Sorry, love,” he whispered, “Didn’t realize you’d be sleepin’.”

“Didn’t mean to…” you confess, standing up and stretching, watching Simon lug a bag of food into the kitchen.

“Haven’t been sleepin’ well?” he asked, his back to you as he began to stock up the cabinets. 

“Not really…” with a sigh, you lean back against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest, “I’ve been stressed about this whole situation.”

“It is…” he pauses in his words, placing a bag of dried beans into the cabinet, “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Society is really collapsing around us, isn’t it?” you bravely ask, although you were scared to hear the answer.

“Yeah, darlin’,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and that brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

“This is so fucked up,” you cry, burying your face in your hands, “Thank you, Simon. You didn’t have to offer to help me and I really owe you a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he closes the cabinet, the bag he brought finally empty before turning to you, “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to know to survive.”

“I doubt I’ll be as good as you,” you joke, a crooked, wobbly smile on your face. 

He steps forward and cups your chin, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “No one’s as good as me, sweetheart.”

You chuckle softly at his words. 

This is what you needed – someone by your side to keep you sane as society collapsed and everyone that you knew died. 

That night, you slept better than you had in days. Simon had given you his bed, offering to take the couch. You had argued, telling him that you couldn’t take his bed like that. 

“I’m up most nights anyway, love,” he had assured you, “At least someone around here can get a good night’s sleep in that bed.”

When you woke up, fully rested you might add, Simon was already awake, drinking some tea. You sat down beside him, enjoying a nice quiet morning.

“How do you feel about learnin’ some basics today, love?” he asked when he was cleaning his mug. 

“Sure!” you agreed, “I have to warn you though, I really know next to nothing…”

“That’s alright,” he chuckled, waving to you to follow him to the living room, “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you watched as he stood up and went to a closet in the hallway, pulling out an assortment of bags and carriers.

He placed them down beside the couch and took a seat next to you. “I think it’s best if we start with you gettin’ comfortable with the feeling of holding a weapon in your hands,” he explained, pulling out a knife bigger than any you’ve seen, “This is a hunting knife.”

He handed it towards you, his fingers confidently gripping the blade between two fingers. You wrapped your hand around the handle, testing its weight in your hands. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking, holding a weapon in your hands. 

“I know it’s scary,” he assured, “But when you’re comfortable holding knives then you can learn to use them properly to protect yourself.”

“What about guns..?” you find yourself asking, still gripping the knife in your hands, turning it over and adjusting your grip just to desensitize yourself to it. 

“We’ll tackle guns when you get used to knives,” he replied.

“So you have guns?” you ask, letting him pull the hunting knife from your hands.

“Of course I do,” he reaches into a bag by his feet, pulling out a pistol. 

Your eyes go wide as you watch him handle it effortlessly, checking the chamber and moving it around in his hands like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon.

“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you to properly use one so you can use it in case of an emergency,” he explained, placing the pistol on the table carefully.

“I’m going to have to kill other people…” you mutter to yourself.

Simon pulled out another knife, passing it into your hands, “Combat knife,” he supplied simply, “And you’ll have to kill them but…I don’t think they’re people anymore, love.”

“I guess that’s true…” you mutter, holding the knife with a firm grip, “I’ve only seen them on the news before it stopped broadcasting. What about you?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em in person either,” he replies with a shrug, “Some of my…teammates,” the words seem awkward coming from his mouth but he continued, “Were givin’ me some information before they went radio silent.”

“What happened to them?” you couldn’t help but ask.

A brief flash of sadness flashed over his eyes but he quickly sobered up, leaning back against the couch with a sigh, “Not a clue. I guess there’s no way for me to know. I just know it was getting bad. Dangerous.”

“I’m sorry about your teammates,” was all you could find in supply of an answer.

Simon didn’t respond, simply letting his gaze fall back on the knife, “Let me show you some handling techniques for you to practice.”

Realizing that he didn’t want to talk about the world outside anymore, you let him lead you through a crash course on knife handling and knife safety. He took the time to teach you the different kinds of knives in his possession and you nodded along as best you could but if you’re being honest – it was primarily lost on you.

You’re not sure if Simon knew that but he seemed to enjoy teaching you, so you let him ramble on to his heart’s content. 

By the end of the day, you were confident enough in at least not accidentally cutting yourself on the sharp blades. 

In order to repay him, you made dinner for the both of you – though, really, it was just some heated up canned soup-- and did the dishes for him so he didn’t have to.

By the end of the night, you both found yourselves on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. With there being no way to watch anything else, you were grateful he had a collection of movies to his name – you simply streamed your favorite shows and movies and called it a day. 

It ticked late into the night and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on the couch, leaned against his shoulder. You could feel him shift and knew you should open your eyes, but the tugs of sleep at the edges of your subconscious kept you from doing so. Suddenly, you felt the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the heavy weight of his arm laid across you. You briefly registered that you were now wrapped in his arms before the final tug of sleep pulled you under.

When you woke up, you were in bed. 

And Simon wasn’t in the apartment. 

“Simon..?” you called, looking around everywhere for him – to no avail. 

You ventured to the door, carefully pulling it open and stepping out. You looked down the hall towards the stairwell before you heard a grunt of effort from the other end. 

“Simon!” you called, making him look up.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, pausing in his task of pushing a large bookcase towards the elevator. 

“You weren’t inside…” you mutter, wandering down the hall towards him, “What’re you doing?”

“Barricading this elevator,” he replied, giving the heavy object another push with a grunt of effort. 

“Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to do that,” you mumbled, taking a moment to look over him.

He wasn’t wearing his hoodie for once, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt that was sticking to his skin with sweat. He wore his jeans with a holster and gun on his hip as well. 

“Do you need any help?” you asked but he shook his head.

“No, you can’t help with this, love,” he grunted, giving the bookcase one final, heavy push before it was flush against the elevator doors. 

It was then that you noticed the straps nailed to the wall. He took them and secured them to the other side of the elevators, making sure the bookcase was fastened firmly. 

“Enough people push this and it’ll come down but at least it’s secure enough,” he explained, giving his work a final once over.

“Do you know where the others are?” you find yourself asking as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway

He pauses at that, seemingly thinking of his next words carefully, “I checked door to door. Most of our neighbors got the hell out to go see their families when everything went to shit. A few…were sick and turned in their apartments so I had to…put them down.”

You cringed at his wording, you knew he was trying to phrase it delicately for you but you weren’t sure if you would have preferred him to just say he killed them. ‘Put them down’ made it sound like they were rabid dogs and not people you once knew and smiled at in the halls. 

“Found some notes in some of them,” Simon said suddenly, waving you to follow him back to the apartment – to safety, “Guess we can only hope they made it to their families in one piece.”

“I hope so,” you muttered optimistically, slipping past him when he opened the front door for you.

You quickly realize how difficult it is to tell how much time is passing with Simon’s blackout curtains, which he refused to allow you to open for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. With there being no more news broadcasts or anything on TV, you didn’t even know the date anymore and you were too scared to ask for fear of knowing how long you’ve been living like this. Your food rations were slowly dwindling but neither of you talked about it. 

You know you’re still waking up in the mornings and sleeping at night – Simon seems to run on an extremely specific schedule. When you asked him about it, he told you it was from the military, which made sense. Either way, you were grateful to him for helping you keep on track.

The water and power were both still on, but Simon kept telling you not to keep your hopes up about it lasting long. 

You spent your days learning knife etiquette and practicing stabbing various targets that Simon made for you. You’ve grown much more confident. Of course, you would be no match for your teacher himself but against a bumbling walking corpse? You were sure you would be able to at least buy yourself time to escape if you needed. 

Eventually, Simon decided it was time to move onto what you were most scared of – guns. 

“I’m going to tell you a few things before I let you hold this,” he said, eyes hardened to show how serious he was as he held a pistol in his hands, “Are you paying attention?”

“Of course,” you breathe, wringing your hands in front of you as you eye the weapon.

“You can’t be scared of your weapons,” he advises, “You need to be confident and sure with every movement you make. It’s not a toy.”

“Hard not to be scared of it…” you confess, “What if I hurt someone with it or…I don’t know.”

“That’s why I’m teaching you all this,” he says, “You’ll get confident and less scared the more you handle them. We’re startin’ you off simple and you can build up to bigger and badder guns. For now…pistols will do.”

“Okay,” you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Tell me what I need to know.”

“That’s the spirit,” he praises, holding the pistol up for you to see how he grips it, “First, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to shoot. Just rest your finger on the side like this, see,” he turns his hand and lets you see the way he keeps his finger hovering beside the trigger rather than on it. 

You nod your head, “Got it.”

“Take it,” he says, “Carefully.”

You stare at the offered weapon for just a moment before you reach out and delicately take it from his hands, “Next, never point it at anyone you don’t intend to shoot. Whether it’s loaded or not, keep it pointed away from people and yourself.”

You mimic his grip, grimacing when you realize it's actually much heavier than you thought it would be. It was definitely going to take practice before you built up the ability to hold it for long periods. You follow his instructions and keep it pointed to the ground – albeit awkwardly.

“Here,” he suddenly steps behind you.

You feel your heart catch in your chest when you feel him press against your back. He’s incredibly warm and firm as you lean against him. He carefully takes your hands in his, supporting your hands and holding the gun eye level.

“Just practice lining up your sight and lookin at a target,” he says.

His face is so close to yours, his voice right in your ear, deep and gravelly with that heavy accent. You struggle to process his words, hoping to god he doesn’t hear how fast your heart has started racing.

You close one eye and focus on aiming at a photo on his wall, a small picture frame. His large, gloved hands dwarf your own and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. He smells like cigarettes and the body wash you may have taken a quick whiff of when you used his shower for the first time. You find yourself wondering when he has time to smoke since you’ve never actually seen him do it. 

Your mind is blank beyond anything other than him. How big and warm he is, how safe you feel with him wrapped around you, how good he smells and how much you love his voice as he utters tips and commands into your ear – sickly sweet in that way he always seems to talk to you. 

If you focused too much on it, you’d slowly come to the realization that you may have a crush on him. But you quickly dash that thought from your head and focus back on his gun lesson as he teaches you how to eject a magazine with ease. 

This is about survival. Neither of you have time to dwell on a silly crush. 

A few days later, you’re standing in the eerie hallway with him. He had offered for you to just stay in the apartment and relax while he did the work but you honestly didn’t want to be alone so you opted to sit with him as he worked.

Your back was against the wall, sipping a cup of instant coffee you had made. Simon was silent as he worked on barricading the door to the stairwell. You both agreed that it was best if it was still accessible just in case something happened, but you didn’t want any unnecessary visitors making their way into the safe little haven you’ve both made for yourselves.

“We should think about looting the empty apartments,” you said suddenly, trying to keep your eyes off of his bulging biceps as he yanked on a strap that was attached to the doorknob to keep the door from being opened. 

“That’s a good idea,” he grunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he finally finished testing its durability, “Let’s do it.”

He offered his hand and you smiled, taking it and letting him pull you to your feet. You brushed off imaginary dust in an effort to hide how flustered just holding his hand for that brief second made you. 

You started at the other end of the hallway from your shared apartment. Simon displayed a disturbing aptitude for opening up very locked doors. You chose not to comment on it, instead silently being thankful that he was able to do it at all. 

“How about we make a loot pile in the hallway so we can bring it all inside when we’re ready?” you suggest.

“Alright,” he responds, eyes scanning over the cabinets in the kitchen, “Food is our main priority but it wouldn’t hurt to have some medical supplies.”

You agreed and started helping him pick things out, filling your arms full of canned goods and pill bottles which you then deposited in the hallway by your apartment. 

The two of you made it through a handful of apartments, securing a nice resource pile for the two of you. You were feeling good, hopeful, as you stared at your future right there in the silent hallway.

It wasn’t until you opened one in particular— it belonged to a shy, college kid, you remember— that it seems everything changes for you. He couldn’t have been but 18, away from home for the first time and living in his first apartment on his own. 

Simon is busy looting the kitchen, you can hear him placing cans on the counter, consolidating whatever it is he chooses to bring with him. You check the bedroom, looking through the drawers and pocketing a bottle of aspirin and nausea medication before you move to the bathroom. 

The second you push open the door, you’re met with the force of another person shoving into you. You cry out as you hit the ground, the person falling on top of you. You panic and scramble out from under them, their coughing and wheezing forcing you to look at them. 

It’s the kid who lives there. He’s deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes which are bloodshot. His lips are crusty and dry, seemingly struggling with finding something to say.

“Pl-” he starts to whisper before you see movement in the corner of your eye.

“Simon, wait!” you cry when you see the knife.

But it’s too late, the hunting knife you had held with your own two hands more times than you could count, is embedded in the kids skull, spraying blood all over you. All you can do is make a pathetic squeak, fear and panic rendering you unable to say anything as you watch his now lifeless body flop onto the ground beside you, his still warm blood soaking into your clothes as it runs out of the gaping hole in his head.

“The fuck were you thinkin’?!” Simon suddenly shouts, storming over to you and yanking you to your feet roughly.

You stumble up, bumping into him as you stare at the dead body on the floor, “He..He was alive…I…”

“He was sick!” Simon snarls, roughly wrapping his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, making you cower, “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you! Fuckin’ hell, are you stupid?!”

“H-He was talking, he was just sick, Simon!” you argued, tears filling  your eyes as you stared up at him, “W-We could have given him medicine, could have–”

“He was a dead man walking,” he shouts, the volume making you flinch, “He was going to turn. Are you a fuckin’ idiot? Thinkin’ we could save him?”

The tears you were holding fell down your cheeks at his cruel words and you glared up at him, “I-I’m not stupid, I just…h-he talked to me!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Simon’s eyes narrow, “He was a threat. A liability. Don’t fuckin’ worry about him, worry about yourself.”

He releases you with a rough shove, taking out some of his anger on you. He continues to glare at you for a long minute before turning his back on you and stalking out of the room, muttering about how stupid it was that you could have killed yourself over some random kid. 

Your eyes fall on said kid, no more blood coming from the wound, simply coagulating on the floor around him, “Y-You’re a monster.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, quiet and shaky. But Simon hears them clear, freezing on the other side of the doorway, in the hall. 

“I’m a monster..?” he asks, voice suddenly eerily calm. He turns around, his large body taking up an obscene amount of the doorway. You can tell he’s intentionally trying to intimidate you, a punishment that makes your cheeks heat up in anger, “I’ve been breakin’ my back to keep your stupid ass alive and I’m a monster? Because I put down some fucker that was gonna turn rabid in a day?” he glares at you, squinting through the mask and drawing his dark eyebrows together, “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doin’ everything I can to keep you safe!” he shouts so loud that your ears ring and you flinch from the sound alone, “But if you can’t appreciate that then maybe you should be on your fuckin’ own and see how long it takes before you’re ripped apart by those feral bastards!”

He storms off at that, loudly slamming the front door, indicating his final exit from the apartment. You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks only for more to replace them and you sniffle, casting a sorrowful glance at the dead kid before creeping out of the apartment yourself.

Simon is nowhere in the hall but the supplies you both gathered are still there. 

You carefully open the door to Simon’s apartment and peek inside, finding it completely silent and still. You’re not sure where he went but you decide to busy yourself with loading all your looted items into the kitchen and sorting them all for when he returns.

You’re not sure how long you take to finish but Simon still isn’t back and you become worried.

He had said you should be on your own but surely he didn’t actually just leave the building, did he?

You wander over to his supplies and find a handful of his weapons gone. Your heart shoots into your throat and more tears prick at your eyes before you’re dashing out of the apartment once again.

The door to the stairwell is no longer held shut, indicating that Simon had, in fact, gone that way. You curse yourself. If you had checked sooner then he would have at least been somewhere close but if he really left, he would be long out of the building by now. 

You creep towards the door and slowly push it open. You hadn’t even left the floor since before this whole thing started. It was eerily quiet, but if you listened close you could hear some muffled shuffling from somewhere. 

You crept out, quickly realizing how dark it was. You pulled out your keychain which held a tiny flashlight that you used to navigate when it was dark in the apartment. 

You crept down the stairs, holding your breath with every step until you finally reached the floor below you. You can hear muffled sounds from beyond the door and slowly push it open, flashing the light down the hallway. 

It's too small and weak to penetrate the stifling darkness. The power was not on on this floor for some reason and that immediately set you on edge. You could still hear some shuffling and strange, raspy noises from within the darkness. 

“Simon..?” you call into the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. The noises stop for a moment and you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Simon?” you call again, louder.

The noises return, shuffling, heavy footsteps advance on you. You strain your eyes to see past the weak illumination that your flashlight provides. You’re breathing heavily, you realize, anxiety making your lungs feel constricted as the footsteps get closer and closer.

All of the sudden, a disgusting, rotted face appears in your sights, arms outstretched towards you. You scream out in unbridled terror as it grabs you, its bony, sickening fingers latching onto your shoulders. You attempt to push it away and run but you trip over your own two feet in your panic. Your flashlight flies out of sight, its dim illumination casting down the hallway, leaving you to push at the undead corpse as it collapses on top of you. Its weight is more than you thought it would be, leaving your arms trembling as you struggle to keep it from falling on top of you. It fights your resistance and chomps its disgusting teeth at your face, attempting to get a bite out of your flesh. 

It reeks, you realize, like the smell of a dead animal you pass by on the street. It makes your stomach turn and you fear you’re going to throw up from the smell alone. The rotting skin of its chest slips and pulls away from the bone and muscle and you gag, tears coming to your eyes as you realize the very real and terrifying danger you’re in.

You have no way to get out of this. 

As you look down the hall, where the light barely pierced the inky depths, you can see more figures emerging from further down the hall, shuffling and rasping in interest at your fight with the one on top of you.

Tears fall down your temples and a sob bursts from your chest as you slowly come to terms that this is how you’re going to die. You can’t hold the sheer weight of the undead above you for much longer.

“S-Simon…” you call out, weak and strained. You know even if he’s nearby he won’t hear you. You have to try harder, get your voice out, shout for him. You swallow around your tears and panic, taking a full breath before shouting, “Simon! Please! Simon, help me!”

You don’t even register the door opening behind you. But you do notice when the weight of the corpse is gone, a knife stabbing into its skull before a large hand grabs you by the back of the shirt and drags you back into the stairwell. The undead follow after you, slamming themselves against the door as soon as it slams closed. 

You’re trembling and unable to blink or breathe as the shock of what just happened washes over you. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Simon all but screams, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, dragging you onto unsteady feet that can’t hold you up before slamming you against the wall. You can still hear those zombies slamming against the door. Your ears are ringing and you barely register Simon shouting at you. 

He shakes you and it finally draws your attention to him. His eyes are wide, irises darting back and forth over your face. He doesn’t look nearly as angry as you would expect. Instead he looks…concerned. Scared.

“Simon…” you whisper, the tears not stopping as they fall down your cheeks. He’s the only thing holding you up right now, hands balled in the material of your shirt, keeping you pinned to the wall, “I-I was…I was looking for you…”

He’s panting, shoulders rising and falling as he struggles to compose himself, “Lookin’ for me?”

“Y-You said you were leaving and I…” you whimper, “I-I didn’t want you to go so…I went to find you…I didn’t think that…”

You see his jaw tense through his mask before he slowly lets go of your shirt. Your knees tremble under your own weight and your hands find purchase against his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters, stepping away from you with a heavy sigh, “Just don’t…do that again, got it?”

You nod your head, sniffling as you feel your tears slowly come to a stop, “Th-Thank you, Simon…for saving me…”

“Yeah,” he grunts, turning his back to you, storming back up the stairs to your floor. 

You unsteadily follow behind him, still a shaky and anxious mess. When you get into the apartment, Simon is in the kitchen, barely sparing you a glance.

“Go take a shower,” he orders you.

You linger in the doorway for a moment, hoping that he’ll look at you even for a second. But he doesn’t and you hang your head, skulking off to take your shower with a heavy heart. 

The night rolls around and Simon hasn’t said a word, putting you more on edge with each passing minute. He sits, manspreading on the couch with a glass of Kentucky bourbon in a glass, sipping on it and watching some old movie that he put on play. Usually, he asks you if you’d like to watch with him, but this time he didn’t and that just makes your heart ache even more. 

“Simon…” you venture to ask, casting a glance at him. His hard gaze doesn’t move from the TV, “I-I want to apologize–”

“For what?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken to you in hours. They’re cold and make you wince.

“F-For what I said…” you mutter, tucking your legs underneath you as you turn to look at him, “I…I was mean. I know you’re doing all you can for me and it wasn’t fair of me to get angry at you…I was just…startled, I guess.”

“You were naive,” he snaps, finally looking at you with a harsh glare, “You had no fuckin’ idea what those monsters were and you almost got yourself killed because of it.”

“Y-You’re right…” you whisper, feeling the tears pricking your eyes for the millionth time that day, “I’m sorry, Simon.”

He doesn’t respond, simply throwing back his glass of bourbon, downing it all before he stands up, “Sleep on the couch.”

The last thing you hear from him is his bedroom door slamming shut. You lay down that night, quietly crying into the pillow until you finally fell back asleep.

“Wake up!” a barking voice is what draws you out of your slumber. 

Still shaken up from yesterday’s previous events, you sit straight up, wild, fearful eyes looking around before your gaze falls upon Simon. He stands in front of the couch, dressed in full tactical gear. Even his balaclava is different, with a hard plate in the shape of a skull covering the front. He looks intimidating.

“Wh-What’re you doing?” you ask, turning yourself so your feet are on the floor. 

“We’re trainin’, get up,” he commands and you have no choice but to follow.

You find yourself following him out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. It’s eerily quiet as always and you feel more intimidated than ever standing before him in nothing but some flimsy pajamas while he wears full gear. Even his gaze is different through that skull mask, hard and cold, looking down at you like you’re insignificant. 

It’s so different from before. He was so kind and patient with you before and you can tell that now he’s going to really train you. 

“What’re we doing today..?” you timidly ask, wringing your hands in front of yourself.

“Escaping,” he responds.

“Escaping?” you parrot back dumbly. 

His glare narrows down at you, “You’re going to try to get away from me and make it towards that exit.”

He points to the other end of the hallway, to the stairwell. You glance up at him, where he stands between you and your exit. 

“Okay…” you lick your lips nervously, “Do you want me to just run past you?”

“For now,” he drawls. He sounds almost bored, hands wrapped around the straps of his tactical vest.

You take a deep breath and attempt to bolt past him but his reflexes are frighteningly fast. His arm shoots out before you even realize it, catching you around your middle and halting you immediately. 

The air is punched out of your lungs from the force of his arms and you stumble back with a groan. 

“You’re goin’ to have to do better than that,” he says, looking down his nose at you like you had offended him with your poor attempt. 

You brace yourself again and attempt to run past him. This time, you attempt to fake him out and run in the other direction but it ends the same with his arm grappling around your middle and you still not any closer to the exit.

“Again!” he barks and you can’t help but wonder if this was how he was when he was training recruits in the military. 

You try again and again to run past him, duck under his arm, avoid his reach – everything to no avail. After several attempts, you’re left panting and frustrated. Simon is still as cool as a cucumber, staring at you in pure boredom as he awaits your next move. 

You run again, making rough contact with his arm once again. But this time you start fighting against his hold. You push with all your might, shoving at his arm and his side in an attempt to slip past him. 

“There you go,” he says, though it sounds more condescending than proud, “Fight me.”

You slam your fist down over his arm, successfully knocking it out of the way and giving you a chance to bolt past him. You have a clear view of the stairwell door and you can almost taste the success. 

But you’re stopped suddenly when a rough hand grabs the back of your shirt. You cry out in shock when he yanks you back towards him, carelessly tossing you to the floor. You hit the rough carpet harshly, the coarse material skinning your hands and knees and you cry out at the pain.

“Simon!” you chastise him, glaring up at him when he comes to stand in front of you, “That fucking hurt!”

“Oh, it hurt?” he sneers, squatting beside you, behemoth form still dwarfing your own as he gets down on your level, “It’s not supposed to feel good. This is training. You’re supposed to try and survive, not whine and cry because you fell on the floor.”

You sit on your burning knees and glare at him. He glares back at you, neither of you backing down. 

“Get up,” he commands, standing up, “Go again.”

By the time he allowed the training to be called off, your body was sore and bruised from the amount of times you’d been thrown to the floor. Your knees burn and ache from where the skin had been rubbed off and you fight back tears as you watch the dried blood crust on your skin. 

Simon is no more rough for wear than he was before – all your hitting, kicking, pushing, and biting hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. He wasn’t even winded. 

Worse more, you hadn’t made it anywhere near the door. 

You weren’t sure how Simon felt about it. If he was mad or disappointed, he didn’t say. As soon as you got into the apartment, he went about making dinner after ordering you to wash up. 

When you got out of the shower, he tossed a first aid kit to you and silently sat down in the kitchen to eat. 

Usually, you would sit with him but you found yourself deciding to eat on the couch by yourself. A sense of loneliness settled upon you that you hadn’t felt since before you had moved into this apartment with him and you find yourself hiding your tears in your food. 

Once again, you’re sleeping on the couch. You wouldn’t have minded it if it didn’t feel so much like a punishment. You felt like a dog banished to sleep in the dog house and you can’t help but curl in on yourself at the cold, empty feeling that it causes. 

The next morning follows much the same with Simon startling you awake with a barked order. Your body aches and your wounds sting with every movement you make as you drag yourself behind him to the hallway.

“Do we have to do this again today, Simon?” you ask hopelessly, “I’m really tired…”

“Do you think those undead freaks are going to care if you’re tired?” he snaps at you, arms crossed, making him appear even bigger than he already was, “You’re goin’ to learn how to escape from holds.”

“Simon…” you start to complain but a sharp look from him has the words dying on your tongue and you hand your head in defeat. 

He’s no more gentle than he was yesterday with you, rough grips and manhandling you around to fit his needs. He barks in your ear, ordering what you need to do and when to break various holds that he has on your body. 

He feels so much stronger and more powerful than those zombies had. At least they were mindless and slow. Simon was fast and smart. 

“Put your hand under mine to break the hold!” he shouts, clearly frustrated the more you fuck up breaking his holds. 

“Not like that! Are you daft?” he grits through clenched teeth, “You’re goin’ to fuckin wind up dead if you keep this up!”

You feel your heart rate speed up and you find yourself almost panicking under his completely oppressive energy. His shouting only sets you more on edge and the tears begin to prick at your eyes once again. 

“None of those fuckin’ tears,” he snarls, tightening his hold on you when you squirm and attempt to rid his body weight off of yours, “Do what I told you! You can break the hold if you just fuckin’ focus!”

“Simon, I-I don’t want to do this anymore!” you cry, the tears tumbling down your cheeks as you cry out the words. Your cheeks feel hot and you can barely catch your breath as you weakly punch at his chest.

“There’s no tappin’ out,” he snaps, tightening his grip on you even more. Your body aches where he holds and you know you’re going to be feeling those bruises for days to come. 

“Simon!” you practically screech, freeing one hand and harshly slamming your fist down over the hard faceplate. 

It seems to startle him enough into loosening his hold and you manage to kick back away from him in your panic, foot hitting him square in the chest in an effort to propel yourself away – putting as much distance as fast as you can between the two of you.

“Simon…” you whimper, voice wobbling, “I am not one of your soldiers. You need to stop trying to train me like I am!”

You watch him adjust his jaw through his mask before he pops his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and every hair on your body stands up in pure fear. 

He’s on top of you before you even have the chance to say another word. You cry out when the force of his body forces you back and your head cracks harshly against the floor. Your vision blacks out from the force and you groan in pain but he doesn’t stop, a rough forearm pinning against your throat, cutting off your air.

“That was good,” he says, voice cold and devoid of any emotion, “You managed to escape, now do it again!”

Your hands push weakly against him, but you’re worn out and your head is starting to hurt like hell. You open your mouth to say something but his hold on your throat ceases any words from escaping. 

You reach up to his face and his cold gaze narrows at you, “You already tried that. It won’t work again.”

But instead of hitting him, your fingers wrap around the face plate and you attempt to push it off – hoping that it’ll obscure his vision enough but he shakes you off with ease. 

He catches your gaze and what he sees gives him pause. Wide, teary eyes, red rimmed and filled to the brim with fear. Tears wet your cheeks and he finally notices the way your entire body is tense and trembling beneath him. 

“P-Please,” you finally find your voice when his weight eases a bit off of your throat, “I-I don’t want to do this anymore, Simon, please.”

That has his own eyes widening and you take his slackened hold as an opportunity to run away. He watches you scramble up from your spot on the floor and stumble back to the apartment, disappearing within with a slam that makes him flinch. He looks down at his own hands and finds that he can’t conjure up any thoughts that aren’t about you.

You hear him enter the apartment, his heavy footfalls pacing around the living room. You’re hiding in the bathroom, leaning against the door with your knees against your chest to muffle your cries. 

He enters the bedroom and pauses, no doubt looking for you before he approaches the bathroom and you feel a brief ping of fear that he’s going to open the door but instead he softly knocks. 

“Will you come out so we can talk?” he asks, voice holding none of the cold, harshness that it had for the last few days. 

“G-Go away, Simon,” you sniffle.

You can hear him sigh before he follows your request and steps away from the door. You can hear him linger in the bedroom for several more minutes, kicking his boots off before he’s quietly closing the bedroom door and leaving. 

The silence and loneliness sinks in once more and you find yourself sobbing into your knees all over again. Your head kills and you feel almost nauseous through your cries from the headache but you can’t stop yourself. 

You have no idea how long you cry for but before you know it, the bedroom door opens once again and you can hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the bathroom door once again.

“I made something for you to eat,” he says through the door, “Figured you might be hungry.” At the idea of food, your stomach growls, “It’ll be waiting for you at the table when you want it.”

You listen to him walk away and you know this is his way of luring you out of the bathroom. Part of you desperately wants to spite him for being so mean to you and refuse his food but the growling in your stomach is too much to bear and you can’t help but clamber to your feet and quietly pull the door open. 

When you reach the living room, Simon is facing the TV, giving no indication that he realizes you’ve come out of your hiding place. You sneak into the kitchen to see a bowl of soup sitting nicely at an empty spot. You take a seat and quickly devour the entire bowl, barely taking a break to breathe before it’s completely empty. 

You place it in the sink and carefully sneak back out of the kitchen, intending to slide right past him but in your haste you fail to notice that he’s no longer sitting on the couch. Instead, you come face to face with him sitting at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for you. 

You freeze when you see him and all too soon that headache comes racing back to the forefront of your mind. 

Simon’s no longer wearing the skull plate and instead wears his usual black balaclava with the skull print on it. He wears a t-shirt and sweatpants, obviously having let himself get comfortable while you hid in the bathroom earlier. 

He looks up at you the second you step into the room and the two of you halt in a stalemate, simply staring at one another while you wait for the other to make the first move. 

You’re the first to break eye contact when a heavy throb goes through your head, making you close your eyes and bring your hand to your head until it passes. You hear the bed creak when Simon stands up before his hands are cupping your cheeks.

“You hit your head, didn’t you?” he asks, soft and gentle. 

You can’t stop yourself from glaring and snapping, “No thanks to you.”

His gaze softens as his hand finds its way to the back of your head, ever so softly prodding at the sizable bump that’s there, “I’m sorry, love.”

“If you’re sorry then why did you do it?” you find those damned tears returning all over again as you continue to glare up at him, “I told you I didn’t like it and I wanted to stop.”

“I know…” he whispers, hands once again cupping your cheeks, thumbing your tears away.

“What was your problem, Simon?” you tearfully ask, sniffling pathetically, “You hurt me. You were scary – scarier than those stupid zombies downstairs. Why did you do that?”

“I got…I was…” he struggled to find the right words before he stepped away from you with a troubled expression, “I was angry— scared. I just—I don’t know.”

“You were scared?” you scoff, “I’m the one who got attacked.”

“You think that wasn’t scary for me?” he asks in disbelief, “You almost got eaten alive on my watch.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you sniffle, angrily storming over to the bed, letting yourself flop down on the comfortable mattress for the first time in days.

“I know,” he whispers, “Just let me explain, okay?”

You lay there silently, listening to his weight shift where he stands. You take notice of how his scent lingers much more on the blankets now that he’s slept on it. It smells good, you note, musky and delicate. He doesn’t wear anything that smells particularly overpowering. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “Ever since this shit happened, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I lost contact with my team, my friends. I’m not able to get anymore information on what's goin’ on outside. I’m worried about you, I’m trying my hardest to make sure you can go out there and survive on your own if you need to. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m scared because I’ve never felt this out of control before.”

You sit up and turn to face him, “How long have you been feeling like this, Simon..?”

“A while,” he mutters, turning his back on you when your gaze starts to feel like too much, “And then you called me a monster and I just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to explain his feelings properly.

“I’m sorry for that, Simon,” you mutter sincerely, reaching out to grab his arm, urging him to turn around, “I never should have said that. And I didn’t mean it, really.”

“Well, you were right, weren’t you?” he scoffs, “I am a monster. Fuck, look at what I did to you – how I treated you. I was punishing you and I never should have.”

“We both made mistakes,” you compromise with a wobbly smile, “We’re dealing with a lot, right? The fucking world is ending and we’ve been trapped in this godforsaken building for who knows how long. It’ll get easier.”

He stares at you for a long moment, lashes fluttering as his gaze softens. You can’t find it in yourself to break eye contact. After a long moment, he seems to decide on something before reaching up and yanking the mask covering his face off. 

You feel your breath halt in your chest as your eyes widen, taking in every inch of his newly revealed face. His soft, brown eyes are a juxtaposition to the rest of his ruggedly handsome face. You stand up, never letting your eyes stray from him, a feeling of pure awe coming over you.

“You’re so handsome, Si,” you whisper, reaching forward to brush your fingers over a scar that cuts through his eyebrow to his eyelid, “It’s nice to finally see you.”

“I wanted you to see the real me,” he whispers, “Not the asshole soldier I was.”

“I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this,” you let your fingers wander along his skin, feeling the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t yet shaved. 

“I need to tell you,” he sounds breathy, reaching up and catching your hand in his, pressing your palm flat against his cheek, “I was so scared when I heard you callin’ for me. I thought I was goin’ to be too late and I’d watch you die. I was terrified that I would lose you.”

“Simon…” you whisper in awe, watching how his soft, brown eyes display every tumultuous emotion that he experiences, “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to worry you again.”

“I want you by my side for as long as you’re able,” he whispers, throat moving as he swallows.

“I won’t go anywhere,” you agree, stepping closer to him, “I promise.”

He leans in at the same time as you, meeting you for a sweet, tender kiss. It lasts only a second before you’re both pulling back to look in each other's eyes. Then, you’re both surging forward for a hungry, heated kiss. 

His hands grip your waist, squeezing there as he deepens the kiss. You whimper under his touch, standing on your tip-toes to match the intensity of his kiss. 

He moves you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing you to topple down. Simon follows, catching himself on his hands on either side of your head. He only breaks the kiss for a moment to move you further up the bed, easily manhandling you so your head is in the pillows before he’s kissing you all over again.

His hands are rough as they travel over your body, slipping your shirt up just enough to let him touch your bare sides. You quickly realize you’re still wearing your sleep clothes and that you don’t have a bra on. 

Clearly, Simon was aware because his hand quickly cups your bare breast with a rough, callused hand. His thumb finds your nipple, flicking over the bud as you whine into his mouth. 

He pulls back suddenly, cheeks flushed before he’s fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Arms up, sweetheart,” he coos, sickly sweet. 

You follow his orders and eagerly lift your arms up for him to tug the fabric of your shirt over your head. Once your breasts are bared to him, he’s leaning down to wrap his lips around one perked nipple while his fingers busy themselves with the other.

You cry out at the feeling of his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, hands tangling in his soft, curly hair. He groans against your breast at the feeling of your pulling at his hair before he pulls back just a bit, breathlessly whispering, “Such perfect tits.”

“Simon…” you whimper, letting yourself relax into the bed as he switches to mouth at your other nipple, leaving the other to harden in the cool air before his hand travels down your stomach to your shorts, easily slipping underneath the fabric.

“Simon!” you call out again when you feel the heat of his hand cup your folds through your panties. 

“Shh, just let me do the work, love,” he mumbled, muffled by the fact he refuses to part from suckling on your nipple. 

His tongue drags over your breast, nipping and sucking marks into your skin. As he works the muscle, his hand in your panties remains stationary, just letting you feel the heat of it against your core. The teasing presence only makes you pulse and drool into your panties. You’re positive the fabric must be sticking to you by now from how wet you’ve become from playing with your breasts. 

“Your tits are so sensitive,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Does it feel good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, arching your back to offer up your chest to him all over again.

He grins, a crooked little smile that makes your heart flutter. It was so nice to finally see him smile. 

But instead of mouthing at your breasts again, he leans back on his heels and pulls his hand from your panties. You whine at the loss but it’s cut short when he hooks his fingers into them and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to assist him but find yourself wincing when an ache goes through your body.

He notices and gently runs the palm of his hands up your thighs, urging you to relax.

“You sore, love?” he asks, voice filled with what you can only call guilt.

“A little…” you admit, biting your lip, “My thighs are killing me, actually.”

He shakes his head at himself and leans down, pressing a kiss next to the scrape on one of your knees as his hands slowly begin to knead the sore muscles in your thighs. You sigh and let your eyes flutter at the feeling. 

With your eyes closed, you don’t realize he leans down until you feel a hot, wet tongue slide from your pubic bone to your sternum. Your cunt clenches pathetically at the feeling. When you open your eyes, Simon’s pretty, brown eyes are half-lidded and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. You can’t resist cupping the back of his head and pulling him for a kiss, whimpering and moaning against his mouth.

“Fingers or tongue?” he asks, muffled and messy against your lips. 

“What?” your hazy mind can’t quite comprehend what he’s asking of you.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?” he reiterates, “I want to make you cum.”

You whimper at that, “B-Both!”

He scoffs, full brows furrowing, “Greedy.”

You find yourself blushing at that but he doesn’t deny your request. He sinks down your body, peppering kisses down your body on the way until he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

He grabs your hips and effortlessly yanks you down so your legs hang off the edge of the bed. 

He spreads your thighs apart and you find yourself holding your breath, watching through your lashes as he trails kisses up your thigh, getting closer to where you want him the most. You’re trembling under his attention and it makes you clench pathetically around absolutely nothing. You’re sure he can see the way your cunt drools and leaks with every small kiss he peppers against your skin. 

Just when he gets close, he pulls back and kisses back down towards your knee. The teasing has you wound taut, feeling as if you’re almost on the edge without him ever properly touching you.

It feels like hours that he does it, kissing up and down your thighs. Occasionally, he nips at the skin there, swirling his tongue over the burning marks he leaves behind to soothe the sting. Finally, he moves his hand and you think he’s going to finally give you something but all he does is spread your folds apart with two fingers, exposing your hole and clit to the cool bedroom air. The action makes you whine but he pays you no mind. 

He carries on kissing your thighs and nipping at your skin. No matter how much you rut your hips, hoping to entice him into touching you and giving you what you really need, he ignores it. He ignores your whines and the cries of his name, ignores the way your cunt clenches and drools around nothing, clit twitching from how much teasing you’re enduring. 

The little bud aches, throbbing as it begs for anything – any little touch that he has to offer. He could blow air upon the nub right now and you’re sure you would explode in pure pleasure. 

When you sob his name, broken and needier than you’ve ever heard yourself, he finally looks up. His eyelids are heavy, concealing half of his iris and it makes him look positively fucked out. 

“Look at me,” he commands, licking his lips slowly, “Right in the eyes, let me see you properly.”

You force yourself to meet his penetrating gaze, almost struggling to compose yourself. You find yourself trapped in the eye contact, almost paralyzed under his intoxicating gaze. He holds you there for what feels like minutes but in reality is probably just a few seconds. 

His fingers finally hone in on your clit, pressing against the twitching, hardened bud. You cum immediately, still locked in that intoxicating eye contact. You cry out, hands slapping against the bed as he draws the orgasm out of you with slow circles on the little bud, sticky clicking sounds filling the room and mixing with your wild cries of pleasure. It seems like the high never stops, more and more cum gushing from your cunt and dripping down to stain the comforter beneath you. 

Simon watches you with keen attention, taking in every expression you make as he makes you cum against his fingers, the bud throbbing wildly until the orgasm finally dissipates. 

When you finally sag against the bed, your thighs fall completely open as the post-orgasm exhaustion quickly hits. You’re left trembling and twitching through the aftershocks, pretty pussy still drooling with every clench of your walls.

Simon takes the opportunity of you coming down to strip himself. He tugs his shirt off over his head and lets his sweatpants drop the floor, carelessly kicking them away. His gaze never leaves you, never leaves that twitching little cunt between your legs.

There’s a slick film of your cum coating your folds and his mouth fucking waters. 

Your eyes fly open, not even realizing that you had closed them, when he suddenly cups the back of your thighs and pins you wide open for him.

“Simon…” you pathetically coo, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair when he comes within reach.

“So sweet for me,” he coos, kissing your thigh once again and you’re scared that he’s going to tease you all over again, “A good orgasm got you nice and sweet, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mutter, dazedly looking at him as you feel his breath on your sensitive cunt. 

That alone makes you clench around nothing. You nearly whimper out loud when you see his tongue fall from his mouth, glistening with spit before he licks a slow, wide stripe between your folds. 

When he comes back up, he holds his tongue out and lets you see the creamy mess of your cum left behind. He makes a show of swallowing every drop in his mouth, making your cheeks flush in pure embarrassment at such a lewd display. 

You had no idea Simon would be so fucking filthy in bed but the way his eyes roll back at your taste tells you all that you need to know. 

He loudly slurps your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sloppy bud as he whines and groans into your cunt. You tug harshly at his hair at the overwhelming feeling of having your clit doted on so expertly. 

His hands keep you pinned open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside you, occasionally taking a moment to visibly swallow every drop of your slick so you can see the way he absolutely savors your taste.

He swirls that offending tongue around your clit again, slurping it back into his mouth before two fingers are prodding at your entrance. You clench against him, the excitement of finally being filled with something making you whimper. Just the sound of you so eager makes him almost want to cum completely untouched. 

Your cum generously coats his face and he absolutely loves it. He pulls away suddenly, dark eyes locking onto your face as he pants from how lost he was in eating you out. He slowly presses two fingers inside you, letting them slide in, hugged by the plushness of your walls.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, love,” he coos, moaning sympathetically when you cry out from the feeling of being stretched on his fingers, “And so warm too, fuck.”

He decides, in that moment, that he doesn’t care if the world is ending outside, he feels nothing but bliss with you. He never wants this to end, he wants to get completely lost in the pure intoxication of you. 

He leans down, flattening his tongue against your clit once again. The feeling is heightened now that he’s got his thick fingers stuffed inside you. You clench around him at the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive bud once more. 

He suddenly crooks his fingers and your legs helplessly kick in the air at the overwhelming feeling of him pressing and prodding against that gooey little spot inside you. Your hips rabbit up and you practically wail at the overwhelming sensations he’s attacking you with. You squeal his name so sweetly before he finally backs off a bit, letting you sink back into the soft cushions of the bed.

He’s completely drunk off of you, off the creamy cum you gush out for him to lick up, off the lovely sounds you let out from how good he makes you feel. His cock is so painfully hard and he wants so badly to wrap his hand around himself but he knows he’ll blow his load the second he does, so he refrains. 

To distract himself from the ache in his cock, he doubles his focus on you and making you feel good. His fingers crook upwards again, prodding your g-spot again with renewed vigor. You cry out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sucks your clit into his mouth, the suction making your thighs tremble. 

“I-I wanna cum!” you cry out, fingers still tugging harshly at his hair. 

He groans against you but doesn’t dare to part from you, too focused on bringing you to your high to actually goad you into it. His fingers move inside you, fucking you nice and deep, making sure he’s working that sweet little spot inside you as he continues to suck on your clit. 

It doesn’t take long before your entire body stiffens and you toss your head back. The choked out cry is music to his ears and his own eyes roll back when he feels the way your walls tighten around him, soaking his fingers generously. Your clit throbs in his mouth before he releases his suction on it, instead choosing to lick the pulsing little bud with the flat of his tongue to gently ease you through the high. 

You’re pushing his head away long before he’s ready to part but he willingly backs off nonetheless. His chin is wet with your cum, even dripping down his neck and the sight makes you flush. There’s a loud, squishy noise when he slowly pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of your cunt. 

“Scoot back for me, darlin’,” he commands you, slurring a little before he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of the mess you left behind. 

You do as he says, shakily pushing yourself back so you can lay your head in the pillows. With Simon standing at the foot of the bed, you finally get the chance to take a look at him. 

He’s obviously incredibly well built, broad and firm in all the right places. Most notably, he has numerous scars, some that looked like bullet wounds and others that were long and thin. 

“Are all those from the military?” you find yourself asking as he carefully crawls onto the bed, jostling you as the mattress moves under his weight.

“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You let him handle your body as he pleases, spreading your legs so he can comfortably situate himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, rests against your folds and you find your eyes going wide at the sight of it.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he chuckles, like he can hear what you’re thinking. 

“That’s not going to fit,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze off the twitching, fat length of him.

“‘Course it will, love,” he breathes, pecking your lips again, letting his lips trail down over your jaw, “I worked you open real good, all you gotta do is relax and let me in.”

With a minute adjustment of his hips, the tip prods your entrance. He grips the base of his length, carefully pushing forward, mouth dropping open as he feels your hot, wet walls spread around the head of him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts, “Jus’ let me do the work.”

Your hands fly down to grip his forearms, nails biting harder into the skin there the deeper he sinks into you. The middle of his cock is the fattest, giving you an almost painful stretch that makes your face pinch up in a way that Simon doesn’t like.

He brings one hand to his mouth, licking his thumb before carefully pressing the digit against that sensitive bud. You whimper at the feeling, cunt clutching tight around him, easing more of his length inside. He circles your clit a few more times, watching your face for any clear signs of discomfort. Before long, his hips meet yours, filling you absolutely full to the brim in a way no one ever had before. 

He plants both hands on either side of your head, abandoning your clit in favor of simply rutting his hips against yours. His large body hovers over you, shielding you from anything outside of him and you find yourself completely lost in everything that is him – how full he makes you feel, how nice he smells, how safe you feel trapped beneath him like you are. 

Your hands wind around his neck, pulling him down so his chest presses against yours. Your breasts squish against his chest and he finds his eyes flickering down just to look at them. The sight makes you smile despite yourself – it’s cute, you think.

Tangling your fingers in his soft curls once again, you bring him down for a kiss. He’s still slowly, carefully rutting his hips against yours, his lower abdomen sliding against your clit as his cock stirs inside you, stretching you and hitting every sweet little spot inside you. 

You whimper into his mouth, gasping at the way he makes you feel so full and good while he barely does anything. Your knees bracket against his ribs, squeezing him so tightly you wonder if it hurts but he just continues to kiss you and circle his hips. 

“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he whispers, barely parting from your lips to request it, “Just like this, cover my cock. Be good for me.”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to disobey even if you wanted to. With the way he stirs you up and drags against every tender spot inside you all while grinding against your clit the way he is, you don’t stand a chance. Your third orgasm creeps up on you and your back arches just as it washes over you.

Simon groans at the feeling of you cumming around him for the first time – the tight, wet clutch of your cunt feeling better than he ever could have dreamed. As he watches you writhe in his bed, moaning and whimpering his name, he’s overcome with a plethora of feelings that just melt his heart. 

He can’t resist pulling you in for another kiss, cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock remains buried in your cunt. You’re still working on coming down from the orgasm he just gave you but he’s greedy – he wants to feel it again. He wants to fuck the orgasm out of you, make you ride it out and gush all over him.

He needs to show you how good he can be for you, hoping that this alone can get across just how much you mean to him. He’s never been the best with words, so he can only hope that this is enough for now.

Your hands press against his chest, aimlessly pushing at him from the overwhelming way he fucks you. You’re so sensitive, pushed into cumming more times than anyone had ever made you before. But he doesn’t show any signs of slowing or stopping. He’s a machine, built for stamina and he’s on a fucking mission now – to make you feel as good as he possibly can. 

You’re attempting to push him away, to give your poor, overstimulated body a chance to come down. But he’s having none of it. 

“Hands off, love,” he commands breathlessly. But you just stare up at him with dazed, teary eyes, panting and sweaty. He clicks his tongue, “You ignorin’ me, sweetheart?”

He grapples your wrists in his one hand, pulling yours away from his chest and pinning them above your head. He uses this new hold as leverage to really fuck you, pulling back and sinking back in as deep as he possibly can. His tip kisses your cervix, making your thighs tense up at the twinge of pain that comes with having him so deep. 

But the pain mixes so addictively with the pleasure that you find yourself getting completely lost in the slow, deep rhythm that he sets. Every time he sinks balls deep, his hips slap against yours and he rubs up deliciously against your clit. The pleasure on your bud doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back again, never allowing you to fully build up to another delicious high. 

Simon is lost in the way you whimper and whine. He can swear that he’s never heard anything as incredible as you being denied the pleasure he had been so generous with so far. He likes the desperate look in your eyes; it makes him feel amazing to know that you need him to make you feel good. He’s in charge of your pleasure in that moment and he finds himself relishing in that feeling of control over you. 

You look so sweet beneath him, pinned and helpless with teary eyes looking up at him. Your pupils are blown wide from the pleasure his cock brings you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep. 

Usually, Simon is a fast and rough kind of guy, but he finds himself thinking that he could definitely get used to a pace like this more often. As long as it’s you that’s underneath him. 

It doesn’t take you very long to break, those pretty tears falling down your cheeks as you breathlessly plead with him, “Please, Simon,” your voice cracks so cutely, “I want more!”

He chuckles under his breath and leans down, pressing a tender kiss against your temple before whispering, “What’s stoppin’ you from takin’ more?”

That seems to set you off. You’re bracing your feet on the bed, rutting your hips, rocking yourself against his cock. A moan rips from his chest at the sight of you using his cock like that. His heavy balls press against you and the feeling makes his cock throb, making him realize how badly he needs to cum. But he doesn’t want to give up this little show you’re putting on for him so soon. 

You’re so, so wet that he can feel how your messy little cunt squishes around him. You shamelessly soak every inch of him the more you work your own pussy on his fat cock. You tug your hands free from his grip and he’s left clenching the pillows in his fist when he watches your fingers descend.

He thinks you’re going to go for your clit, to push yourself over the edge like you so deserved for being so good for him. But instead, you reach for your own tits. The breath punches out of his lungs as the sight of you meanly pinching and tweaking your nipples as you continue to rock yourself against him.

Simon feels his balls tighten at the sight and he almost thinks he’s going to cum but he suddenly pulls his cock out. You wail in complete misery at the loss, tearfully watching him wrap his hand around the base of his cock, pinching off the impending orgasm.

You flop back down onto the bed, sniffling pathetically as you glare at him for ruining the orgasm you were so beautifully working yourself up to. He smiles crookedly at you, cupping the backs of your knees, crudely pinning them to your chest so your pretty, wet cunt is open and vulnerable to the way he suddenly stuffs himself back inside. 

With you completely pinned beneath him in a press, you can’t do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure as he finally fucks you fast and hard. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, your arousal dripping off of them. 

His eyes are locked on the way you’re stretched so wide around the girth of him. You’re creaming around him, a milky ring left in your wake every time he pulls out. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe or collect yours, simply fucking you with everything he has. It’s loud, wet, and fucking messy. 

“F-Fuck,” he chokes on the word, voice breaking as it comes out. He’s so close that it hurts, “Play with yourself for me, love, rub your clit.”

Your hand flies down to do as you’re told without a second thought. It only takes a few, quick circles around the hard little bud before you’re cumming with a cute little squeal. Your feet kick helplessly in the air, toes curling from how hard you cum around him. 

Simon groans at the sight and feeling of you losing yourself on his cock. You continue to swirl and tap at your clit, forcing yourself to cum harder and harder until you’re squirting around him with a choked off sob of his name. 

Simon’s hips never still or falter, fucking you fast and deep to work you through the orgasm. Your cum splatters across his hips, thighs, and chest. It makes his eyes roll up into his head before he lets his head fall back. His jaw opens and he moans, loud and deep as his own orgasm finally washes over him. 

His pace falters as you lay there twitching and crying, a few trembling thrusts of his hips as his cock spits rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums longer and harder than he has in a very long time. He continues with short, aborted little thrusts on his sensitive cock as he continues to cum.

Even when the orgasm dissipates, he finds himself fucking into the creamy mess drooling out of your twitching cunt. 

“S-Simon-!” you choke out, nails clawing down his shoulders, “S-Sensitive!”

“I know, love,” he pants, almost deliriously, “J-Just one more. G-Gotta fill you up again.”

You can’t do anything but lay back and let him use your cunt as he works to force another orgasm out of his overstimulated cock. He’s gasping and whining as he moves his hips, pulling his cock out only to stuff it back inside. A mixture of your cum and his drips down, soaking his cock, pelvis, and balls. It’s a heady, lewd mess that he can’t bring himself to worry about now but he knows it’ll be a pain to clean up later. 

You’re trembling and twitching with every one of his movements, tears dried and new on your cheeks. He feels a pang of remorse for you, you’re tired and overstimulated but he just needs to wring this one last orgasm out and then he’ll let you rest.

“You can be good for me, huh?” he coos sweetly, “Just be sweet and let me, fuck, use this pretty little cunt, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, nodding your head as your eyelids flutter in exhaustion.

Simon leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You both get lost in the kiss, with your arms wrapped around his neck. He loves how it feels to have you stuffed on his cock while your pretty, sweet body twitches and trembles beneath him. He knows it probably hurts by now and the fact you’re just laying there and letting him use you like this has him reaching his second high. 

He chokes on a moan, gasping as he cums for the final time. It’s much more lackluster than his first one but he still fills you up just like you both needed. His cock twitches almost painfully inside you as he slowly rocks his hips, wincing at the overstimulation. 

After a few, still moments, he pulls his length free from the soft plushness of your cunt and rolls off of you. You’re both panting, laying on your backs on the bed as you come back to yourselves.

You’re the first one to move, rolling onto your side and wrapping yourself around him. Simon finds himself smiling when he feels the sweet way you snuggle against him, seeking his comfort automatically. 

You start shivering, the mess of cum and sweat on your body causing you to become cold. He urges you to sit up despite your protests. 

“Let’s take a shower and sleep,” he offers sweetly, supporting your shaky body to the bathroom.

He continues to support you and hold you close through the shower. He finds himself grateful that there’s still hot water because you both certainly need it after such a messy tryst in his bed. 

You’re the first to fall asleep, tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around him like a little koala. His hand strokes up and down your back, just staring into the inky blackness of his bedroom. 

Part of him feels like it’s all a dream, to have someone so sweet tucked against him, offering him comfort and feeling safe as they snooze peacefully. A sense of fierce protectiveness washes over him as he finds himself going through plans in his head – what the future may hold.

He’s torn from his thoughts when you shoot up from your deep sleep with a gasp. Your head wildly turns, looking around the room. His hand finds purchase on your back, making you jump before relaxing immediately in recognition.

“Bad dream?” he asks, tugging you gently to lay you back down against his chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I dreamt that I was trapped with them in that hallway again.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you to make sure you feel secure. You go still for a long time and he thinks you fell asleep again but then you ask him a question that surprises him.

“Who are those people in the photos?” you quietly question, “In your living room.”

He hums, rubbing a rough hand up and down your shoulder and arm, “My teammates. Friends, I guess.”

“You guess?” you chuckle.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Task Force 141; Captain John Price, and Seargets John ‘Soap’ MacTavish and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.”

“Soap is a silly name,” you comment, grinning up at him, resting your chin against his chest, “What about you?”

“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he responds with ease. 

“Do you know where they are?” you ask.

It’s an innocent question but it sends a pang of hurt to his chest. If he were a weaker, less trained man, he may have felt tears pricking his eyes, “I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I was in contact with Soap when everything started goin’ to shit. Lost contact with him though. He’s a tough bastard though, I’m sure he’s fine somewhere out there. I don’t know where the other two were or are.”

“If they’re even half as good as you, I’m sure they’re all fine,” you offer optimistically. 

Simon hums again, reaching a hand up to brush a stray flyaway off of your forehead. His big hand cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lips which you offer a gentle kiss against. 

“All I’m worried about now is you,” he confesses softly, “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you smile, laying back down to nuzzle against his chest, “I’m okay as long as you’re here.”

He wraps his arms around you again and closes his eyes, letting himself sleep peacefully with you held safe against him.

It’s not even a week later that you’re sitting on the couch with him, peacefully watching a movie with a full belly after cooking a quick dinner with him, that you hear a loud, mechanical thump and you’re plunged into complete silence and darkness. Your heart jumps and races in your chest, mindlessly grappling onto Simon’s arm as he sits still beside you.

“What happened?” you ask, whispering as if you’re scared to speak any louder.

“Power went out,” he responds, not sounding the least bit perturbed, “Knew it was comin’. Water’s probably out now too.”

“What do we do?” you ask, the tremor of fear in your voice practically breaking his heart. 

He stands up and you whimper in fear when he’s out of your reach. You can hear him moving around in the dark before a bright, blinding light lands on you. 

“We can’t stay here for much longer,” he responds, “We’ll have to move out and find somewhere with more resources.”

“How long have you been planning this?” you ask, getting to your feet to follow him down the hall to the bedroom.

“Ever since the news stopped reportin’,” he responds, grabbing a large backpack from the closet, “Let’s pack up.”

You linger beside him and he looks at you with a raised brow, “I’m scared, Simon.”

His gaze softens and he walks up to you, cupping your cheeks tenderly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, “We’re goin’ to go out, find a small place to hunker down. We’ll look for a generator or a vehicle and get somewhere safe. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nod your head, “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, “Now take this backpack and fill it with what’s left of our canned food, alright? I’m goin’ to pack everything else we need, don’t worry about a thing.”

He offers you a flashlight, which you gratefully take and click on. You’re glad that he gives you an easy task to focus on. You take the smaller backpack he offers you and make your way to the kitchen. You only have about 5 cans of food left and you carefully place them inside the bag before opening the refrigerator to pack a few full bottles of water that you have stored in there. You make sure to toss in a can opener just in case before you place the backpack on the couch. 

Simon emerges from the room with the large, military backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“You get it all?” he asks, taking a seat to shove his boots onto his feet.

“Yeah and a couple water bottles,” you respond, approaching him slowly.

“That’s perfect,” he praises, looking over at you, “You should go get dressed. Jeans and a hoodie. Put your sneakers on and make sure they’re tight, got it?”

You nervously do as you’re told, disappearing into the bedroom to quickly dress yourself under the flashlight. You can hear Simon moving around in the living room, heavy boots thumping against the floor with every step he takes. 

You toss the hoodie over your head and make your way back to Simon, who stands in the living room, looking out the window. The sun is just beginning to come up over the horizon, casting a dim amount of sunlight to come through. 

He turns to look at you when he hears you approach. 

“There you go,” he hums, pulling the hoodie up over your head and tightening the strings, “Keep your neck covered. We’ll find you some better clothing somewhere along the way.”

You nod your head and take a glance over his shoulder out the window. You can barely see the ground from your position but you can see people shuffling around on the streets below. A pang of fear goes through you as you realize that they’re most definitely not normal people – the streets are crawling with those undead freaks. 

Simon leads you to the door and unsheaths a weapon for you – a machete he had taught you to wield with relative ease. You grip it in your hands, nervously twirling it around until you find a comfortable position. Simon nods his head and pulls out a combat knife, holding it low at his side before opening the door. 

The descent to the lobby is relatively easy, you walk over the undead that have already been taken care of in the stairwell.

“I took care of these already,” he explains without you even having to ask, helping you jump over a pile of 3 zombies at the foot of the stairs. 

“You got more kills under your belt than me,” you comment, mostly in jest to lighten your mood.

Simon huffs under his breath, slowly pushing open the door to the lobby, “You have no idea.”

You squint and turn off your flashlight when you step into the well lit lobby. The sun is now above the horizon, allowing you to see with ease once again. 

Simon remains in front of you, making your way to the double front doors. You peek around him, heart racing in your chest as your grip on your weapon tightens.

“Are you ready?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“No…” you confess, shuffling closer to him.

“Everything will be okay,” he promises firmly and you actually believe him. 

When he pushes open the door, the groans of the undead fill your ears and you find your eyes darting frantically around the streets that you can now see with terrifying clarity. 

Hundreds of undead swarm the streets, stumbling and groaning as they shuffle around aimlessly in search of food. Simon reaches down and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You know it’s going to be the fight of your life but with Simon by your side, you have faith that you’re going to make it through and find somewhere safe together.

 property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

[hor3nee]

Dad!Sukuna NGHHH Dad!Sukuna & breeding save meeeee

AHAHA omg no that's crazy. HAHA. I need to be Sukuna's cumdump.

cw: suggestive! nsf/w! praise, trueform!Sukuna! breeding!

Sukuna has the worst case of breeding kink it's genuinely insane. He doesn't even realize it at first, he just fucks you each night however he feels that day. Pussy is pussy, good old-fashioned fuck and he's satisfied consistently. 

But once he's knocked you up?.. Some thought infects his cold heart, and not a wholesome one. Stuffed a baby into you, marked you in a way that'll stay permanent. And once the kid is out and you've healed to his desire, he's practically pouncing to stuff another into you. Keeps you in a mating press all night, balls deep so not a drop spills out.

"Sucking me in so tight, perfect fuckin' pussy." He'll groan, deep and primal while he ruts into you, your ankles between his two sets of shoulders. Two monstrous hands pushing your thighs to your ears, the others digging into the sheets balancing his crushing weight atop you.

And this guy can keep doing this, forever, literally. fattest fucking sack in the Jujutsu world. Fills you to the brim with the first load and just keeps moving, fucking the cum deeper into you, if that is even possible with how his thick tip is butting your cervix. He doesn't have a refractory period, he's a curse, a beast. 

You'll be stupid from the endless loads and consistent rutting, and Sukuna won't relent. Brought his baby into the world, that's a fucking accomplishment no other mortal can do, you can handle his dick fine. Needs you to take, and take till he's satiated.

"Ah fuck, gonna fill you up again, take it. Gonna have you all swollen f'me. Givin' me another brat, got it?" He only moves, barely, so his tongue on his belly can dip down to where your bodies collide, large muscle dripping and circling your clit as you near. Leaving the smallest gap between you two while still keeping you folded in two and fucking another load into you.

Then even after you're trembling, blissed through another quacking orgasm, white pearly semen flowing out of you and pooling under your ass-- he'll still be fucking you some more. Growling and fawning at you at the way you're body still eagerly takes him after the first baby. 

Sex was always good, before the kid. Sukuna might've been an old-fashioned crone, but after it, it somehow got better. Won't let you go from his chambers until there's another bump in your belly with the second babe, then it's onto the third. Cause he can't resist breeding you.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #dad!sukuna #jjk x reader #thirsts! #asks! #fem reader

[chosocutegf]

roommate!Suguru x f!reader

cw: voyeurism, smut

I’m always thinking about roommate!Suguru, and the fact that he would be so obsessed with you.

At first, when you just moved in, he wouldn’t spare you of even a glance and he only spent time with his friends, Shoko and Satoru. However, as time went on, Suguru started to warm to you and you two got to hang out more together. That’s how he became interested in you.

And for suguru being interested meant he was obsessed with you.

Not that you would realise of course, he made sure of never raise your suspicions, but he stopped bringing people at home and only wanted to be with you. he would want to know what you always did, who you hung out with, and where you went.

You noticed something was different with Suguru, when he started to get more touchy. Every moment was an occasion for him to touch you.

You were passing in front of him? Smack on your ass.

You were trying to reach something on a higher shelf? He pressed his body against yours from behind and took it for you, a grin on his face.

You were going out and needed to put a necklace on? He was ready to do that, and he made sure to caress the nape of your neck and hair when he was done.

You didn’t really understand what he wanted from you, until a special event happened.

Suguru caught you touching yourself while talking to another person. It was not his fault he caught you, okay??? You left the door slightly ajar, as if you were inviting him to watch you.

And so he did. He observed you from the little crack of the door, while you panted sitting on top of your sheets, unaware of his presence. Your legs were spread open and he could clearly see your little fingers rubbing your pretty pussy.

He cussed under his breath and reached down to rub his cock over of his pants. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste your pussy himself. He listened patiently to your conversation at the phone, while you bit your lower lip, trying to reach that orgasm that the other person was trying to guide you to.

However, it never happened. And Suguru noticed how you faked your orgasm in order to make the call end.

So, the moment you put down the phone, your roommate stepped into your room. Your eyes widened and you close your legs to hide your wet pussy and swollen clit when you saw him, your face burning. “Suguru! Get out!,” you screamed flustered but it only made Suguru chuckle as he approached your bed.

“Who were you talking to?,” He asked teasingly as he sat at the end of the bed. You were still blushing and looked at him with a little pout. “No one,” you murmured, looking away and missing how his cock throbbed in his pants at your indifference and pretty pout.

“They sure were no one if they didn’t make you come… Now let me take care of you, mh?,” He insisted as he slid closer to you on the bed, still not touching you. When you looked back at him, you sighed… why not? You felt restless and disappointed from the person you were talking to, and the man you had in front of you was far much better than them.

Skip forward, that’s how you found yourself laying under your roommate in mating press, your ankles almost reaching your face, and him pounding inside you so hard that you could feel his fat cock inside your stomach. You pleaded him, after so many orgasm, but Suguru wasn’t buying any of that. He wanted your pussy to form around his cock, so that you would never forget that you belonged to him.

He looked down at you with that annoying sexy smirk, sweat dripping down his forehead, and his hair all around him. “Who owns this pussy, baby?,” He asked breathless, observing how your teary eyes were looking up at him, and a fucked out expression on your face.

“S-Sugu… my p-pussy is yours, please… I can’t,” you cried out, sinking your nails in his shoulders. He hissed at the delicious pain, pistoning his cock inside of you faster, almost reaching your cervix. “Fuck, yeah… all mine, princess,” he panted against your face, laughing.

And that’s how he got you full with his cum, your belly swelled from how much he came inside you. He couldn’t stop looking at his cum coming out of your abused hole, and your spent up body over your sheets. “You’re fucking mine, doll… I will stuff you full with my cum to remind you every day~” he smirked, leaning down to bite your inner thigh before getting up to get a cloth to clean you.

(m.list)

#getou suguru x y/n #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #suguru geto smut #jujutsu suguru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru jjk #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk #geto x y/n #geto smut #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #getou smut #jjk getou #.writing #𐙚

[willowbelle]

"Please, Harder!" Headcanons

ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, fem afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

a few drabbles for how the monster trio + ace & law respond to you asking them to fuck you harder! (>ᴗ•) !

cw: fem afab!reader, piv sex, spanking, praise, choking, rough sex, positions (in order): mating press, doggy style, cowgirl, wall sex, prone bone.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

"Please, Harder!" Headcanons

ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ

Luffy:

Luffy seldom falters in his incessant pace; he revels in his ability to fuck you like an animal in heat; harder and faster than anything you’ve ever experienced. He's captivated by the sounds emanating from your throat, and the knowledge that he's the one eliciting such responses makes it even more enticing. He diligently strives to uncover a wide array of your vocalizations, collecting them, almost. 

On this occasion in particular, he’s got you on your back, legs dangling over his toned shoulders as he holds you down by your waist, pounding his length into your needy cunt while you scream and whine for him. 

A new noise erupts from your heaving chest, one that Luffy’s never heard before;  a plea,

“Please, Luffy, harder!”

The foreign sentence prompts his ears to perk up, momentarily causing his pace to falter. He looks down at you, his eyes widening as he carefully studies your face to confirm he heard you correctly.

Suddenly, a smile tugs at his lips, and he bursts into hearty laughter, 

“You want me to fuck you harder?” he giggles, but his tone is tinted with a bit of playful arrogance, “Sure! If you think you can handle it!” 

Seeing your desperation as a challenge, the captain accepts eagerly, aiming to prove himself. He grounds his knees harder into the mattress and pulls his hips back before thrusting in abruptly, making you cry out as the tip of his cock batters your sweet spot. 

"That's a new one!" he chuckles, the unfamiliar sound igniting a flame within him that courses through his veins and singes his blood, filling him with an exhilaration beyond compare.

Determined to hear the special noise again, he commences with his unruly pace, making your screams rise in pitch. 

The grip he has on your waist tightens as he continues pounding you, the sounds of your sloppy cunt accepting his cock over and over again causing elation to flood his skull, 

“This hard enough for ya, baby?"

Zoro:

Zoro is a relentless force, driven by an insatiable desire to prove himself; strength and sexual abilities alike. 

He refuses to settle for anything less than excellence, especially in the bedroom. He’s in constant pursuit of validation, hellbent on getting you to scream his name only seconds in. 

Zoro’s got you on your hands and knees, treating your insides with brutal thrusts as he kneels behind you; thick, strong fingers bruising the plush flesh of your hips as he grasps them tightly. 

His grip is like a vise, unyielding and firm, your screams falling on deaf ears as he rails you mercilessly. He always aims to assert his dominance, his presence, and when your needy request makes its way to him, to say he’s surprised is an understatement. 

“Please, Zoro, harder!”

He’s still holding you, with unwavering resolve, but his harsh pace as slowed, just barely, so he can hear you over the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together. 

“Say that again.” 

And you do, making the large man behind you let out an amused tsk. 

He promptly obliges, but not because you’re in charge; oh no, he’s fueled by a fierce resolve to make you rue the moment you questioned his abilities.

The swordsman’s grip tightens on your hips as he immediately begins thrusting harder, so intensely it makes stars erupt beneath your eyelids. 

He’s groaning behind you, planting harsh smacks to your ass as he proceeds, obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his cock so greedily. 

Your mouth hangs slack and screams escape from it as he pounds you.

You’re a weak, trembling mess, causing the green-haired man to smirk as he leans down to rasp in your ear, 

“Careful what you ask for.”

Sanji:

Sanji would move mountains for you, sacrifice everything to grant you joy. He’s entrapped by you and your presence; and it transforms him into a devoted disciple, eager to fulfill your every waking need. He hangs onto every word you say, treasuring each syllable as though you’re a deity among mortals. 

He’s always been a gentle lover; petrified of hurting you, of damaging that precious body of yours that he worships so obsessively. 

His adoration transcends mere admiration; he’s a devotee, obsessed with pleasing you with his gifted hands and gentle, strategic hips. 

You’re on top tonight, grinding up and down on his length. You’re desperate for more, though, greedily moving your hips in a tight circle as you move up and down. 

He’s quick to notice; promptly reaching up to hold your waist and aid you in your efforts, lifting his hips to thrust up into you slowly, carefully. 

You whine at the pleasant sensation; it's welcomed, but it’s not enough. 

“Please, Sanji, harder!”

Although he’s a bit taken aback by your sudden request, he doesn’t stop to think, he just obeys. Sanji presses his heels into the mattress to use his strong, lean legs to aid him in pounding into you from below, groaning as he looks up at you longingly. 

“As you wish, beautiful.”

You’re panting, crying out for him as he fucks you harder than ever before; the pace is uncharacteristic but seemingly natural for the gentle cook.

The sight of your face contorted in pleasure makes the coil tighten in his lower stomach, his thrusts are becoming sloppy but remain brutal as he desperately leads you towards your orgasm, 

“Sure you can take it, my love?”

Ace:

Ace is an enigma; a determined, goal-oriented man, but a kind, compassionate one, nonetheless. 

He regularly tightropes the fine line between rearranging your guts and making sweet, gentle love to you. 

His ambition is unwavering, but his heart remains soft and tender as he strives you make you shake and whine beneath him. He wants to stuff your brain full of nothing but lustful visions of the two of you; the juxtaposition of him fucking you roughly while he caresses and kisses your cheek. 

He’ll usually start gently, kindly; moving his hips carefully, softly moving his lengthy cock in and out of you. 

However, any little whine, squirm, or plea from you can flip the switch inside Ace; ignite the flame within him that singes his skin and plunges him into the unruly parts of himself. In an instant, he’ll be pounding you relentlessly, pace remaining brutal and firm as he makes you scream and pick your brain to find the moment he shifted. 

Tonight is no different as Ace has you pressed against the wall, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he holds you up, gently thrusting in and out of your tight cunt. 

You’re digging your nails down his freckled back, prying at his skin, praying that your touches alone are enough to signal that you’re desperate for more. 

He persists like he has been, however, softly and gently, placing sweet kisses to your neck and chest. 

You’re a whining mess, desire pricking at your goosebump-riddled skin as you nip at his collarbone, silently begging him to fuck you harder.

He’s stubborn, clearly, his pace remaining steady as he groans into your ear. 

A plea tickles at your throat but you don’t attempt to stop it, instead, you allow the cry to bubble over and meet Ace’s ear,

“Please, Ace, harder!”

And there it was, the switch flipping; the very moment when kind, gentle Ace retreats, and rough, wild Ace emerges. 

His grip on your hips tightens and he presses you into the wall harder, reaching up to firmly grasp your throat,

“Oh, yeah?” he growls, bringing his hips back to pound into you harshly, earning a weak cry from your slack jaw. 

His pace is immediately overwhelming; you can feel his thick cock in your stomach as he stuffs you full, his blunt tip bullying your cervix with each pass, making you cry out rhythmically. 

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, pretty girl.” 

Law:

Law navigates the world with a keen eye and a steady hand; and these traits always remain true, even in the bedroom. 

He’s a meticulous, observant man; and although he may seem dull, he never misses a beat. 

He opts for studying your body; your noises, your movements, in order to please you in the ways you need, not just the ways you want.

Every action is calculated, every decision weighed with thoughtful consideration. He moves with purpose, deliberate and measured, leaving nothing to chance. 

Nothing goes unnoticed, or falls under the radar when you’re with Law; he may be tedious with his touches, but damn, it’s worth it, because he does it all perfectly.

Beneath his analytical exterior lies an insatiable curiosity; a deep, obsessive desire to understand every facet of your being, from the intricacies of your mind to the contours of your exquisite body. 

He wants nothing more than to please you beyond comprehension. 

You’re laying on your stomach, a pillow beneath your pelvis to raise you a bit. Law is hovering above you as he thrusts steadily into your cunt, leaning down to groan in your ear and kiss along your nape. 

His pace is fixed but firm, and the position you’re in aids him in hitting your sweet-spot dead-on with each thrust. 

You’re whimpering needily, coming undone beneath the doctor as he stays true to his consistent pace. 

He’s precise and careful; making sure to hit your g-spot with each pass, but he can tell you’re desperate for something; aching for more. 

He can tell what you’re about to say before you can even get the courage to let it out,

“Please, Law, harder!”

A smug grin tugs at his lips, amused by your desperation for his cock, but he listens, immediately beginning to thrust harder into you.

His pelvis meets your ass with a loud smack with each harsh thrust; the noises are lewd and your weak screams only add to it, but his pace never falters as he obeys your plea. 

He’s determined to instill in you the fact that polite requests will always be granted, but he can’t help but tease you a bit, 

“You’re insatiable.” 

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #law x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #luffy x you #sanji x you #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #one piece headcanons #ace x you #one piece scenario #mdni #x reader #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcannons #one piece headcannon

[hon3y-y]

Mean nerd! Choso who is extreme intelligent and makes it known. He calls you dumb and belittles your intelligence, but is secretly in love with you. He offers to tutor you and every time you get a good grade he rewards by eating you out and being so sweet and loving, but when you get a bad grade punishment is the worst.

cw; dubcon/noncon (vv light), smut

He’s a meanie but it’s only to show his love:( he wants better for you, and he wants your dumb little brain to be filled with knowledge. He only calls you a “stupid slut” because he cares, not because he likes to see your pretty eyes tear up and your cheeks flush with humiliation. And he definitely doesn’t use that image when he’s pumping his fist full of his cum, his eyes rolling back as he forces himself through a third orgasm to the thought of your pretty tear stained cheeks.

In all honesty, He wants to make you sob on his dick and make your brain numb to anything but the way his cock drags against your tight cunt, maybe he could fuck the knowledge into you? He was willing to give it a try at the very least.

After weeks of torture, he finally convinced you to a tutoring session after saying that “you need him” if you want to pass the class with a decent grade. He worked you tirelessly, making you stay late to study and pulling your hair if you went to sleep(but not before putting his own head down and admiring your puffy lips and the light drool, cooing when your nose scrunched). The sessions usually ending with you in tears, your wobbly voice saying “I’m done.” and leaving mad.

You had full intention of quitting, sick and tired of the endless torments until you looked at your next exam. The score higher than all the rest and a bitter taste in your mouth when you realized he actually did help you.

At the next session you showed him the perfect score, reluctantly saying thank you. You were surprised when he gave you a genuine smile and even more when he had you face down on his bed, eating your pussy like a man. He’s spitting and licking from your clit to your ass, pushing his tongue in and smiling cheekily when you gasp.

Your head is in sheets that smell like him, arching your back as you whimper out praises and begging for him to not stop. He places a teasing kiss to your clit, pulling back to watch his fingers pop through the tiny hole of your pussy, biting his lip to stop a groan as he feels you flutter and nearly creams his pants when you look back to plead with him. “It’s okay baby, I got you~” he leans down to kiss your ass cheek before continuing to eat you out until you’re thrashing and squealing at the lightest touches.

He works you into overstimulation because he loves how you look when you cum, the tiny noises you make and the sound of his stuttered name making his cock twitch. He’ll reach down in the middle of slurping your juices to rub his hard-on through his sweats, letting out little puffs of hot air on your pussy when he brushes over his sensitive tip. He’ll probably make himself cum in his pants, reaching his dirty fingers to push into you or swirl over your soaking lips to make it creamier, watching the two of you mix together, making his soft dick hard again.

But god forbid you bring him a bad grade, you’ll leave sore and bruised. He’ll spank you until you’re sobbing and then slap your pussy until it’s raw, “you’re nothing but a slut huh? What, I treat you well once and you go and get stupid on me?”

He had you in mating press, cock hitting your cervix as you let out a choked sob. You’re sore cunt aches for him. he’s been edging you for hours and refuses to let you cum, leaving you to plead and wail as he pushes you closer to the edge again. “C-cho, please—been s’ good!” You slur, not being able to form words as he bullies his cock into you and uses his hand to cut off your circulation.

He scoffs, “good girls get good grades.” He pulls out completely, groaning as he pumps his cock and cums on your face with a whine. You shut your eyes when it lands on you, eye brows furrowing. “But I haven’t—“ he cuts you off with a tut, shaking his head as he catches his breath. “Only smart girls get to cum, sweetheart. let’s get cleaned up.”

**bonus**Will perform aftercare anyway because he’s not a monster</3, you’ll just pout the whole time and he’ll enjoy every second of it.

#jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #chubby reader #need him so bad #choso x female reader #jjk smut

[diejager]

Hiii，I really like your story about Ghost x bunny！reader.Can you please do moreee🥺🥺🥺💖🐰

Needy Bunny Cw: heat/mating cycle, breeding kink, rough sex, mating press, doggy style, unprotected sex, PinV, tell me if I missed any.

You clawed at the sheets, hips bucking back, rutting against the heated palm of his scarred and calloused hand, fingers filling you so well. Your bed smelled like him, something familiar you associated with comfort and safety, gorging on his rich and powerful scent. He smelled like blood and gunpowder, itching you sensitive nose, and the soft tone of something woody —an addictive bourbon and calm sandalwood.

You crooned softly, burying your face deeper into his many shirts, mask and blanket, all infused with his aged scent and sweat, masking you in his scent, drowning in the delicious smell of him. You were clouded by a primal need, to be bred and nurse little kits in your stomach, you didn’t have any sensible thought inside your head, all you wanted was to smell like Ghost and bear his kits by becoming his.

When thrown into the throes of your heat - vicious and unforgiving - you became dumb and needy, wandering the halls of the base for Ghost and pawing at him until he brought you to his room. The moment he closed and locked the door, you were naked and kneeling on his bed, face down on his pillow, drooling over the musky cloth and ass up, showing him how wet and needy you were, cunt winking and clit throbbing from the cool air in his room —it helped with the warmth you exhumed from your heat, body burning so much calories to sustain you during it.

You were deaf to Ghost’s degrading words, uncaring by how mean his words were or how rough he was, all that mattered was that he was using you, his fingers straight as they drove in, hitting your g-spot. Slick dripped from his wrist, your sweet cunt oozing it, transparent and salty fluid tasting sugary on his tongue, his mask rolled up his nose to press the flat of his tongue against your twitching nub, swirling around it wile he pumped you with three, thick fingers.

You whined when he pulled out his fingers, tongue pushing into your hole and slurping down your slick, swallowing your sweet cum in gulps. He drank up your little mewls, sound more like a cat than a bunny, his hand roved over your thighs and around the swell of your ass, spanked red from acting like a little whore in front of other men, and grabbed your snowball-like tail, harshly pulling on it to get a reaction out of you. You yipped loudly, back arching and trying to get out of his tight hold on your sensitive tail, the twitching ball stuck between his fingers even as he pressed the round head of his cock against your clenching hole, tip nudging your entrance —teasing you.

“Please-” you wailed, sobbing for relief you knew that only he could give you, something to fill you up and keep you full until this heat passed. “Ghost, please-”

He kept you still, one hand on your hip and the other still tugging at your tail, he drove in with a sharp snap, thrusting his whole length in one, rough go that had you keening, loud, whorish sounds slipping from your tongue as your eyes rolled back, walls squeezing him as you came. He was warm, cock snugly sitting inside of you, he was as heavy as he was thick, the girth covered in veins and the base in trimmed, musky hair.

He took a few experimental thrusts, rough and unsteady, before he bottomed out completely, heavy balls slapping your engorged clit. Ghost set deep and hard pace, his sculpted hips snapping against your sensitive ass, using his grip on you to hold the pace, plunging in, the leaky tip of his uncut cock slamming into your spongy cervix, veins scratching at your clenching walls, frenum piercings, three starting from the base up rubbing you deliciously.

With how high stung you were, body shuddering and cunt spamming with another upcoming climax, it didn’t take you long before you came a second time. Bursting with a cry, legs kicking and trembling beneath you, you bucked your hips against him, pushing him deeper into you. You were squirming so much so that he had to turn you over, manhandling you from your presented position to a mating press, bent in half with your legs hanging from his broad shoulders, taking him again and again - even as you came twice or thrice, coating him in your juice, his navel and balls wet down to his thighs - until he had his fill.

“You want a kit, is that it?” He growled, forearm pressing down on your throat without putting any lethal force, simply to hold you down, to keep you restrained to your nest, “Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll knock you up, yeah? Put a little rabbit in that cunt of yours, breed you nice and deep.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan

#x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 ghost smut #ghost smut #mw2 ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley fanfic #bunny!reader #bunny au #bunny hybrid reader #hybrid reader #tw: hybrid #hybrid!au #mw2 ghost #fem!reader

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ cw. freestyle because i need this man inside me, mating press (i'm obsessed with it), big dick boothill, fem! reader

a moment's pause, and boothill pulls your legs against your chest gently— that was, with a keen eye for your beauty.

he gulps down the saliva assembling in his mouth, nervous, enacting a serene tease as he strokes his tip upward and down your soft folds, watching you take it— and for one long minute, he preps your body from inside and out while his bottom lip pulls between his teeth, refusing to shape proper words and instead, surrender to his heavy groans.

you like it— as does he, and when he slides himself in at last, the extent of his shape pushes into your hole, your mind wandering and body shaking above silk blankets.

when boothill finds the confidence in his movements again, he begins to snap his hips forward and gleefully thrusts into the smoothness of your walls, his balls tightening as he deepens the ache in every inch of your untouched skin.

you whimper, his name and how he made you feel, your body caught between a need and heavy weight pressing you down as he begins to roll his hips more and more, mapping the routes of your walls and memorizing the spots that made you whine out louder, the ones that would best draw forth mingled curses and moans of his name.

each time his cock slid out of you, you cry out as stars burst behind your eyelids, your sweet spots being caressed and retouched with each new thrust and greedy snap forward— and boothill was so greedy, indeed he was, moaning eagerly when he felt your muscles clench tight around his shaft, his whole body trembling when you skim your digits through his tousled hair, tugging hard, the two of you wishing this moment could go on and on even as you felt yourself reach your high.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #boothill x reader #boothill smut #honkai starrail x reader #honkai starrail smut #boothill x you

[sentoooo]

ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx? ⨟ ʜꜱʀ ᴍᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: im feeling sick in the head and also Fuck Me by Vernon Jane

✧ a/n: uhhmmmm i deserve to be a little freaky and weird and perverse ALSO IDK WHY THE X LOOKS LIKE THAT AND ITS ANNOYING ME TOO. LETS IGNORE IT, TOGETHER

🗒 cw: SMUT, gn! afab reader (for the bad bitches with uteruses), period sex (spoiler: theyre ALL into it.), fingering, face sitting, use of toys, dry humping (?), thigh riding, cunnilingus, thigh job, mutual masturbation, cowgirl/boy position, mating press, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.1k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

⎯ Aventurine

AVENTURINE is all for it, if it means it’ll make you feel better. He prefers to use toys, if anything. He doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, but he’s more worried about hurting you. So he’s got a set of vibrators specifically that he likes to use while you’re on your period. And if you ask, he’ll probably buy a couple new ones, as well.

You do your best to stay still underneath Aventurine, eyes shut tight as you buck your hips up against the wand between your legs. Aventurine looks down smugly at you, mirth glimmering in those beautiful eyes of his. The beneath your stomach had long since turned into a delicious feeling of wholeness and warmth, and you couldn’t help but chase after it. Aventurine, for once, cannot bring himself to tease about how desperate you are to cum.

He had amped up the wand to its max intensity, just to make sure you had felt it through your clothes. Not that you hadn’t, you were practically pushing your pussy up against it the minute he had brought out the vibrator, doing anything to get yourself off. You feel the pleasure mounting all too quickly, yet chase after it nonetheless. You grab Aventurine’s wrist and whined, legs tensing and closing as if to ward off the vibrator. And like that, the pressure releases, giving way to a blissful feeling, the last of your cramps fading away so… easily.

“That good, huh?” Aventurine chides, a sultry grin plastered on his features as he lowers the intensity of the vibrator, yet still presses it up against your clothed clit to let you ride out your high. You don’t respond, basking in the sensation (and the fact that your cramps are gone).

⎯ Dr. Ratio

VERITAS may act hesitant when you bring up the idea, but he doesn’t say no. He’s more worried about how he should go about it than anything, and while it isn’t unfamiliar territory to him, he’s just… unsure of himself. Ultimately, he settles on toys, normally vibes, but dildos will do as well.

It was rather late by the time you had come complaining to him, and he was already behind on grading his student’s papers. Normally, he’d tell you to give him a couple more minutes to finish up his work and you give him that time, but with how much you're groaning and talking about the pain, he’s quite quick to put his pen down. He adjusts himself and slides open his legs, patting his thigh for you to sit down on, with barely another word.

And of course you sit down, your cramps had been killing you all day and you were desperate to find any way to get rid of them because painkillers just… weren’t working. You start to weakly grind against his thigh, hands holding yourself up by his strong shoulders. His right arm wraps around your waist and guides you slow rocking movements, fishing through his desk and finding a vibrator wand. He felt a little embarrassed to have kept something so… lewd in his desk, but then again, there were moments like this that made him feel a little bit better about keeping it.

He sets it on a lower setting, pressing it against your clit and you grind against his thigh. He watches intently, his gaze soft as he does his best to coax you through it, small, soft praises that no one would expect from Veritas himself. But he’s worried, more than aroused. If this is what helps your cramps, then he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t even protest. He watches as your face goes from tensed to relaxed, moaning out his name and even small ‘thank you’s as your heat mounts.

⎯ Boothill

You don’t even have to ask BOOTHILL, the minute you complain about your cramps, he’s on his knees, tugging at the hem of your pants. He prefers to eat you out on your period, given his skilled tongue. Any ‘but’s you had when you first brought the idea up were quickly swept away, he’d eat you out every day of the week during your cycle, or even all day, if you needed it.

Boothill groans against your sex, head buried between your thighs as your hands tug at his hair, a silent praise for just how good he was doing. While he feels quite feverish, his pace is slow and languid, drawing out every little sound of yours he can. The metallic taste on his tongue is just another reward, really. His hands grip your thighs as he presses a series of kisses against your clit, before delving his tongue back into your heat.

Soft sighs escape you as he continues his ministrations, unbothered by the way you squirm every so often or tug at his hair. He’s drunk off the taste of you, really. He laps up the blood as if it was his last meal, groaning every now and then when he had to take a breath. Sometimes he murmurs something in your flesh, too muffled for you to hear, but the vibrations of his gravelly voice provide an exquisite feeling. If you could do this all day, you would.

Heat curls beneath your stomach as Boothill suckles on your clit, thighs pressing against either side of his face as you grind your hips further into his mouth like he wasn’t close enough. Your head spins as you finally let go, letting out a low moan and cumming into his mouth. He licks it all up, letting out a low, guttural sound of approval, his mouth pressed against your folds for a second longer. He withdraws with a gentle kiss pressed to your clit, and a cocky grin sent your way. He quite enjoys the mess.

⎯ Gallagher

The minute you brought the idea up, GALLAGHER is down. He’d do anything you asked him to, from simply fingering you to full on penetration, whatever you want, he does. He wants you to feel better, and by Aeons, he’ll do just that. Would period cramps even exist in a dream? Doesn’t matter. If he knows it’ll help you, he’s on it.

His fingers sink deep within your pussy, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as you roll your hips against his fingers, moaning softly. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles against it. Lewd squelching sounds fill your ears and you desperately chase after his fingers every time the pull back slightly, head leaning back against Gallagher’s shoulder, splayed out in his lap.

“That’s it,” He coos, his free hand wrapped around your waist, squeezing at your hip. He presses a quick kiss to the crook of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he picks up the pace of his fingers. Heat spreads throughout your body, your eyes rolling back as you surrender to the feeling. “Doesn’t that feel better, sweetheart?”

Before you can catch it, your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You barely felt it build up, and now you’ve cum on Gallagher’s fingers. He lets out a throaty chuckle as you do so, tilting your head and moaning into his ear. With a few more pumps of his rough fingers, he pulls them out slowly, admiring his work. You breathe heavily, doing what you can to catch your breath. Your eyes follow his hand as he brings it up to his mouth, sucking off the rest of your blood and cum from his fingers with a satisfied, sultry look.

⎯ Sunday

SUNDAY would feel quite… down, knowing that period cramps still exist within Penacony. Knowing you can’t even escape them in the Dreamscape, he can’t help but wallow a little. But, with that, he will do anything to take away the pain. And when you suggest period sex, he’s practically scrambling for a condom.

Water sloshes around you as Sunday’s hands curl up at your sides, nails digging into flesh. He presses his nose to the crook of your neck, moaning against your skin as he bucks his hips up into you. Your back is pressed flush against his chest, his cock buried within you as he does his best to guide you by your hips. He lets out soft groans here and there, evidently enjoying this more than you are.

He does his best to minimize splashing, yet he is eager to please, and to make you feel better. He isn’t rough or fast, taking you at a rather languid pace, but with how feverish his groans are, how his hips stutter every now and then, he’s rather close himself. He can’t help himself, simply being this close to you has him hard. You roll your head back, moaning against his ear, and he just can’t help but cum.

You follow soon after as Sunday peppers kisses against your neck, sloppily at first, but becoming more refined as he shakes off that needy headspace. The pressure in your stomach gives way to blissful heaven then nothingness, the pain that spread to your stomach and legs, gone, just like that. When you turn your head to look at Sunday, he was a gentle smile plastered to his lips, eyelashes fluttering as if he himself had felt your pain go away.

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI does everything that he can for you when you start your period. No questions asked. In fact, he’s the one that brings up the idea of sex. He’ll eat you out as you wish, finger you, or simply fuck you as gently or as hard as you wish. He doesn’t mind a mess, he actually quite likes it.

He indulges in his desires so easily when it’s you. When his eyes flutter open, he looks up at you with the utmost devotion, head buried between your thighs as you ride his face. Your moans only spur him on, and when you look behind you, you can see his painfully hard erection that has gone untouched. He planned on delighting you in every single way you asked him to, but insisted on starting with his favorite.

Argenti whimpers against your flesh, too caught up in his own selfish desires as his normally profound and rather elegant tongue-fucking turns feverish and sloppy, as if this was something he had always wanted. It was hard for him to break his normally so composed character, and yet here he was, so messy for his lover above him, he himself was desperate to quell the cramps you had been dealing with. His mouth works at a head-spinning pace for once, licking a fat stripe up your folds, kissing your clit, then practically making out with whatever he could put his mouth on.

Just as you orgasm, he lets out a guttural groan, something that came from deep within his throat, lapping up what he can and more. Yet, when you look behind you, Argenti’s cock is drooling, flushed, with sticky white tendrils coating his abdomen. His face flushes when you notice, but he doesn’t hide it. “Apologies…” He mutters against your flesh, giving it another kiss before raising your hips and helping you get off.

⎯Sampo Koski

Whatever you need, SAMPO has for you. He prefers to finger you while on your period, but he doesn’t mind full on sex, or even using toys. If he can’t be there when you’re on your period, he’ll make sure you have plenty of toys to keep yourself… company.

Sampo groans softly behind you, his leg thrown over yours as you two spoon, his fingers gliding over your folds. He doesn’t dare push them in, not yet, anyways. As much as you begged him, he wanted to be as difficult as possible, no matter how much you complained how bad the cramps were getting. Despite that, you were shuddering at any long stroke, the way his pointer and middle finger caged your clit in between them, a satisfied hum coming from his throat.

“Mmm…” He moans, grinding against your ass. He still can’t help getting himself off, the sounds of your breath hitching and soft moans as you ask him for more, how can he not get off on that? How selfish of him, really, to abate your pleasure in favor for his… “Feels good, huh?”

The audacity of this man, it’s as if he’s taunting you. Before you can complain, he finally presses both fingers to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles around it. His grinding borders on desperate as he does so, burying the face in the crook of your neck as his eyebrows furrow. The bastard had came before he even gave you the chance to build up… but he doesn’t leave you hanging. As if he felt bad that he had teased you. His fingers sink into your heat, thumb pressed against your clit. He pumps them at a leisurely pace, unhurried still. Sampo’s breath is heavy as he comes down from his high, head still spun up in the need to please. He’ll apologize correctly, he swears, after you cum AT LEAST twice…

⎯ Jing Yuan

JING YUAN is actually quite delighted to have any hand in making you feel better. From making sure you have you painkillers and enough snacks, to making sure your need is sated. He’s quite happy when you ask for sex, and his go to is NORMALLY fingering, but tonight, he’s feeling a little different…

Warm water runs down your back as you press your lips to Jing Yuan’s shoulder, the scent his cologne filling your senses. After a long day of work, he had proposed a shower with you, but now, it had long been forgotten, his large hands placed on your hips as he rolled his own slowly. His cock is pressed between your thighs, dragging against your folds, the head notching against your clit every few seconds. The push and pull makes your head spin, leaning in to him to keep yourself up.

He had been craving you all day, almost too distracted to finish his work. He didn’t know exactly what brought on the sudden bout of clinginess, you were always on his mind, yes, but nothing quite like this. So, when he came home to you, complaining about your cramps, it felt like every aligned, clicked into place. He was quick to comfort you… and more.

He chuckles softly above you as your nails dig into his arms, which was quickly replaced with a low, content moan. He leans his head down, picking up the pace of his thrusts ever so slightly, causing you to gasp. Your thighs tense as pressure rises beneath your stomach, Jing Yuan kept up with the steady pace. Slowly, drag after drag, the pressure builds, and then releases as you shudder, pressed up against him. He guides you through your orgasm, his thrusts slow as he allowed you to come down from your high. He held off his own orgasm, pulling away from you with a soft smiler, an even softer gaze.

⎯ Blade

BLADE may sound reluctant but he’s quite thrilled with the idea. He doesn’t mind fingering you, but he actually quite enjoys giving you head. To have his mouth pressed against you, a towel beneath you, while he works his magic… he could ask for nothing more.

He’s feeling especially ravenous tonight, and has you perched up on the couch, over his face, while he strokes his cock. The other hand holds you by your thigh, letting out low grunts and groans in between sloppy kisses and licks to your pussy. He’s greedy, but unhurried, making sure to let his contentment be known through lewd noises.

He doesn’t say much, as he normally does, simply feasting on whatever he can. Moans escaped him as he continued to stroke himself, hips bucking impatiently. His teeth scrape against your folds every now and then, taking what he wants. He draws out any sounds he can from you, his pace bordering on desperation. His grip tightens on your thigh, watching as you tense every now and then.

Ultimately, your moans become more frequent, Blade’s sloppy eating getting to you as heat surges through your body, your hands gripping the back of the couch. You look down between your legs and meet Blade’s gaze, fiery and passionate. You can’t help but lose yourself in those eyes, even with such a lewd action. He laps up every drop of your essence, letting out a satisfied hum before shifting his attentions to his own cock, desperate to get himself off, as if he was finished. Which, he wasn’t, really. It was the first of many orgasms that night, he’d make sure it was.

⎯ Luocha

Far be it for LUOCHA to deny you pleasure. Especially when you come to him glassy eyed, hands over your stomach, muttering about how you’d do anything to make the cramps go away. He’d do anything to see you smiling again. And when your eyes light up at the suggestion, he’s more than happy to go through with it.

You had asked him for help, and by Aeons, Luocha would make sure you would feel better. He cages you in via a mating press, his hair falling around you like a veil. His eyes are closed and eyebrows furrowed as he moans, pressing as deep into you as he can. His voice was groggy and heavy, only to have just woken up. Yet he was lucid enough to lose himself within you.

He leans in and presses a feverish kiss to your lips, his strokes slow and measured, pausing every time his cock was fully seated in you. At this moment he could care less about the blood on his dick, too tired to control his desires and submitting to some sort of primal urge that welled within him. Luocha, so normally controlled, yet still a slave to desire.

It was early morning, you yourself didn’t know what time exactly. You had just woken up, and for whatever reason you just couldn’t sleep. Unfortunately, your cramps had caught up to you before you could fall asleep, and aside from moaning and groaning in bed, you had woken up Luocha to help, at least not wanting to be alone while it felt like your cramps were eating you alive. He seemed so eager to help, and now that you were beneath him, you understood why.

⎯ Dan Heng

DAN HENG is not adverse to the idea at all, the first time you had asked, he was quick to suggest toys. Any time your cycle comes around and you suggest period sex, he’s got a towel at the ready and a vibrator of your choice picked out.

He sits behind you, eyes transfixed on your sex as he presses a wand up to your clit. His hand rests on your thigh as you buck your hips against the toy, whining softly. You do your best to keep quiet, Dan Heng’s lack of noise making you feel slightly awkward. Yet, he spurs you on in his own quiet way, pressing the wand a little harder against your clit.

His fingers trail from your thigh to your hip, now resting his chin on your shoulder. He listens intently to all the little sounds you make, before whispering silent praises to you. You had already cum twice, your cramps a distant thought by now. But you had asked for more, and Dan Heng would deliver, as always.

Before your orgasm can creep up on you, he pulls the vibrator away from you and shuffles out from behind you. You complain, but he urges you to lay down, rifling through one of your drawers for a box of condoms. He looks back at you with a barely noticeable smirk. Something that told you to hush up and wait…

⎯ Gepard

While GEPARD is hesitant when the suggestion of period sex is proposed, when you tell him that it could help lessen your cramps, he’s rather eager to get started. He finds that his fingers work best, if you two can’t find a condom.

Gepard is quite antsy when you come home, you had texted him that you had had a bad day, and that your cramps were kicking your ass, and he wanted to make it allll better. He had bought you all sorts of treats, flowers, ordered takeout, the list goes on. And when the door opened he had showered you with all sorts of questions, what else he could do to make your day better, how he can help, whatever he could do. One question makes you shake off your bad mood so quickly, though: “Do you want me to get you your vibrator?”

So there you are, sitting across from Gepard, legs open as you press the want to your clit, while he strokes himself slowly. His eyes drop to your folds, his face practically red. He feels… perverted, but he just can’t help himself. Your soft breaths guiding his arousal, eyes darting nervously between your face and to your pussy, then back to your face.

Eventually, he came prematurely, stuttering over his words and muttering apologies after he does, only to be met with a soft sigh from you. He can’t help but watch with rapt fascination, that same flush painting his face continuously. And when you cum, he practically cuddles up to you, peppering kisses across your face and neck, praising you.

⎯ Caelus

You don’t bring up the idea, CAELUS does. He practically begs before you even get the chance to say you’re down. He goes all in, really, depends on what you are feeling like. You want him to eat you out? He’s on his knees. Want him to fuck you? All good with him. He’ll use toys as well, if you aren’t comfortable with any part of him being in you.

He shudders beneath you as his hands guide your hips up and down his cock, groaning softly, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, eyes darting everywhere like he doesn’t know exactly what to look at. You prop yourself up by your hands on his chest, head dipped as every thrust makes you forget all about your woes.

He does his best not to cum, simply the sight of you riding him like that, taking what you want, it feels like it’s too much. He always did his best to make your periods tolerable, if you weren’t down for sex, he’d grab any snack he could, make sure you had a heating pad, pain killers, and whatever else you wanted. But when you were down for sex, Aeons, he could go all night. That’s one perk of housing a stellaron inside of his body.

“F-Fudge, you’re good…” Caelus groans. You can’t help but chuckle softly at the word ‘fudge’, you know exactly where– who– he picked it up from, and he returns your chuckle in kind. He was never one to take sex seriously, and will never, even when it’s something like… fucking your cramps away.

⎯ Welt

Who better to take care of you than WELT YANG? He does not mind the mess at all, whichever way you want him to take you, he will do. He’s on top of everything, the painkillers you need, snacks you’d like, eating pads, the whole thing. And when it comes to you asking him about period sex? He gladly says yes.

“Feeling better?” Welt murmurs against your skin, his fingers sinking into your warm heat. He knew well enough that of course one little movement wouldn’t make your cramps go away. But with how reassuring he had been, and even how quick he was to comply with your request for sex. He had set a towel beneath you, and even brought out a myriad of toys to use if you so wished.

Slowly he pumped his fingers inside you, head resting on your shoulder as he watched his own movements. His gentle smile persists as you moan, melting at his touch. His free hand strokes your back, coaxing you through it with soft words as your walls clamp around his fingers. He draws out each motion for you, slow and deliberate, pressing a kiss to your shoulder with each moan you let out.

Even with his slow movements, you find that your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You press your legs together as if to keep him out, heat curling up beneath your stomach and down your legs. He doesn’t stop, simply nudging your legs open with his free hand, curling his fingers and hitting juuust the right spot. You whine and cum over his fingers, grinding your hips against them weakly. He allows you to ride out your high, that placant smile playing on his lips still.

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[froggibus]

Not Done Yet - Wriothesley

Pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader (reader has a pussy + uses fem pronouns)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: your boyfriend will do anything to keep you from moving to the Overworld

CW: dubcon, breeding, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, fingering, wall sex, dry humping, doggystyle, mating press, lots of dirty talk, praise + degradation, use of ‘good girl’, dom! Wriothesley, semi feral wriothesley , possessiveness, arguing

hello welcome to this episode of kinktober where the Wriothesley brainrot continues. the minute I met this man in game it was just absolutely over for me and I had SO many thoughts of him and ugh. hope you guys like it <3

Kinktober Masterlist

“You want to do what?”

It’s hard not to cower under your boyfriend’s gaze when his eyes have become so chilly. His voice has taken on an angry edge, a ball of electricity forming in your tummy. 

You swallow hard and point your chin. “I want to move.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you, taking a step closer. It’s times like these that you realize how much bigger he is than you, how much more powerful he is than you. The air takes on a bitter cold. 

“Away from here, I mean,” you add, turning your gaze to the dangling chandelier of his office and the warm light it emits. 

“To the Overworld. You want to move to the Overworld and abandon the life you have here.” His voice booms, “you have a home here, y/n. You have me here. And you want to throw it all away so you can work like a dog until the day you die?”

You scoff. “So I can have a real life, Wriothesley. A chance at some normalcy. To get a normal job and have normal food and—and have a family.”

He looks taken aback at your final sentence. The gears in his head turn, slowly processing this. You’ve never talked about having kids before, not with him. Sure, you’re not always the most careful about using protection, but he never thought that would be something that you want. 

He steps forward again, backing you up only inches from the wall. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “you’re not leaving me. You can’t.” 

You shiver, though you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air or from the dark look in his eyes. You stare at him defiantly, though every instinct tells you to look away from him. 

You can see your breath when you speak. “I can and I will.”

Wrong answer. 

In an instant, he has you pinned against the wall, one hand with a bruising grip on your hip, the other snaking around your throat. 

His eyes darken as he smashes his lips against yours. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, the sudden pain making you gasp. He slips his tongue between your lips and you suck instinctually. 

He slides his hand down from your hip and under your thigh, lifting it up to his side. He thrusts you against the wall, groaning into your mouth. You whine against him, raising your leg higher to give the growing bulge in his pants easier access to your aching core. 

“Why would you ever wanna leave this, hm?”

His words snap you out of your trance, your hands trailing up to his chest to shove him off of you. Heat surges through your body, your head spinning as if the world is rocking beneath you. 

You take a deep breath and gather your bearings. “We’re not done arguing, Wriothesley.”

“I am,” he pushes you against the wall, using his size to his advantage. He presses himself against your back so that you can feel every twitch of his muscles, every rise and fall of his chest. 

His hands go to your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. He grinds himself against you, hard bulge nestling between your legs. 

He digs his teeth into your neck, sharp canines grazing the sensitive skin. He gives a rough, playful thrust, and a moan slips out between your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment taking over. 

He gently sucks at the spot he just bit. “That’s what I thought,” he says in that familiar, commanding voice—the one he uses to break up prison riots, or convince you to let him chain you to the bed. 

He slips a hand between your legs to cup your throbbing core, feeling the heat overflowing from your pussy. Another whine slips out, your knees shaking in anticipation, threatening to give out. 

He tightens his grip on your hip to hold you still, his other hand furiously rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. You arch your back, letting your knees spread apart to give him easier access. He pulls his hand away and smacks your ass, laughing at the soft moan it elicits. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you back to rub against his cock. You brace yourself against the wall with your hands, leaning forwards with your hand down. He thrusts against you, hard cock grinding against the fabric of his own jeans. 

His other hand slips into the waistband of your pants, trailing down to your soaking panties. He runs a finger along your slit, “god, you’re absolutely dripping.”

You hide your face in your arm against the wall, shaking your head in shame. Wriothesley laughs, pushing his hand into your panties and running it between your lips. You look so cute when you’re writhing beneath him and hiding your face. He can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look when he has your eyes rolling back. 

He rubs steady circles on your clit, your pussy only gushing with more slick as he touches you. You push back against him with every moan, rubbing your ass onto his aching hard on. 

He leans over you, pressing himself against you completely. His lips hover just below your ear, “hm, pretty girl. So nice and wet.”

He dips a finger inside of you, just barely prodding your entrance with the thick tip. Shockwaves rush through you, your hips jutting out with a mind of their own, your pussy clamping down around him. He pushes it in up to the hilt, your gummy walls clamping around his thick finger. 

He curls it inside of you and watches you fall apart around him, a slutty mess just from one of his fingers. He pushes another inside, working you open. Your arms shake against the wall, threatening to give in and make you face plant against it. 

There’s a hot pressure building in your stomach, heating up more and more by the second. Your thighs quiver on either side of his arm, your arms bend inwards, and suddenly you pitch forwards. 

Wriothesley anticipates your fall, keeping his arm tightly around your waist. He holds you up with one arm while finger fucking you with the other. He continues pumping his fingers inside of you, warm juices dripping out of you and coating his knuckles. He can feel you open up around him, the vice grip you had around his digits finally loosening. 

He curls his fingers inside of you one final time, hitting that soft spot within your walls. You cum violently, muscles spasming against your will. Your whole body shudders and you collapse completely into his arms. You keep your eyes closed, trying to regain control of your senses as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 

When you finally open your eyes, you’re laying on his bed with your clothes off. Wriothesley stands at the end of the bed, also naked and stroking his hard cock. The dark lighting of the bedroom only makes him look more defined, the contours of his abs and arms making you drool. 

He kneels on the bed in front of you, fisting his cock. You find yourself staring at the bulge of his biceps, the contour of his abs, the precum dripping down the tip of his cock. You’re barely aware that he’s propping you up on your knees, running his hands over the swell of your ass. 

He dips a finger into your puffy pussy. You shudder from the sensitivity, your walls fluttering around his finger. 

He squeezes your ass and pulls his finger out. “Hm, I think you’re ready.”

“Ready?” You ask weakly, your face pressed into his pillows. 

He rubs his cock through your folds, collecting all of your slick onto his tip. “Ready for me to fuck you,” he says, lining his tip up with your entrance. “Ready for me to ruin you.”

His words send a chill up your spine, the undertone of his voice something entirely foreign to you. You have no time to ponder what it means before he’s pushing his cock inside of you. 

No matter how many times he fucks you, no matter how long he prepares you for, it’s always a stretch. He’s so big that he fills you completely, the head of his cock pressing against that spot inside of you perfectly. He parts your walls around him, an almost painful stretch. 

He keeps a hand on your hip, using it as leverage as he pulls out and drives himself into you. He keeps a desperate, brutal pace, bottoming out with every thrust. The curve of his cock has him rubbing against your walls, pressing into your g-spot with every shift of his hips. His balls smack against your pussy, shining with your juices. 

His hand digs in hard enough to bruise, the other reaching around to rub your clit. “So tight,” he groans, “ ‘s like your pussy never wants me to leave.”

You whine, bending your back and allowing him a better angle. He slams into you roughly, knocking all of the breath out of your lungs with the impact of his hips against yours. 

His thrusts start to get sloppier, his orgasm building right along with yours. He pulls you up so that your back is flush with his, his cock getting dangerously close to your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, kissing at your neck, “fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-me too!”

He pounds into you at a desperate pace. “G-gonna cum inside you,” he groans. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in you, cum right inside that little womb of yours.”

“Wrio~”

He shoved you forwards. “Gonna breed this pussy, hm? Then you’ll have to stay with me—fuck.”

His cock twitches inside of you as he bottoms out for the last time, holding you flush to his thighs as hot ropes of cum fill you up. He sucks and bites at your neck as he finishes cumming inside of you, letting you fall onto your face against the bed. 

He keeps his cock inside of you, effectively plugging you with his cum. He gives you no time to recover before he’s flipping you into your back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 

“Wrio—it’s too much!” 

He smirks at you, something feral behind those crystalline eyes. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grunts, thrusting into you. “Not until you’re nice and full.”

You’re surprised that he manages to keep the pace he does, fucking his cum back into you with renewed vigour. He leans over you, giving himself better access to slam into your pussy. You cry out with every thrust, raking your nails down his back.

It’s so sensitive, it’s too much, but fuck, does it feel so good. “T-too deep,” you whine, your own words sounding foreign and far away to you. “Too big.”

He laughs, “but you’re taking it so well, sweetheart. And doesn’t it feel so good?”

You nod, babbling incoherently into his ear. Sweat beads down your temples, tears coat your lashes. Your skin takes on a feverish sheen, but you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of his cock slamming into you and how his arms flex with every thrust. 

His thrusts start to get sloppy, his pace slowing down to a steady rhythm. He lets himself collapse on top of you, effectively folding you in half. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he groans. “Gonna fucking breed you and keep you nice and full. Make you my little whore and keep you here with me.”

You whine, black spots starting to crowd your vision. His thrusts are slow and deep now, his hips moving into you brutally. 

“You’d like that, hm? You said you wanted a family,” he bottoms out inside of you, his cum flooding your pussy. “I’m just giving you what you asked for.”

The combination of his cum and his cock inside of you has you feeling so full it almost hurts. Your senses have dulled, all of your thoughts of leaving having been fucked away. 

Wriothesley lays on top of you, bowing his head into your shoulder. His dark hair tickles your collar bone, his lips pressing against the flushed skin of your chest. 

“Did so well for me,” he mumbles into your skin, “such a good girl.”

You can only nod, running your fingers through his hair to try and ground yourself. You lay there in silence for a while—just him breathing into your chest and you stroking his hair. 

After a while, he props himself up. That same soft look has returned to his eyes, “you’re not really going to leave, right?”

It’s posed like a question but sounds more like a plea. His cock is still inside of you, more and more cum running out as it’s softened. You still feel dizzy from the overstimulation, but looking at him now, you don’t see how you could possibly leave. 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m not going to leave.”

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