૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა

you’re both sprawled out on the living room couch, johnny on his back, and you lying stomach down on top of him with your cheek resting on his chest. your knee is hiked up a bit over his hip just enough to be comfortable. he’s holding a book up in the air with one hand.

he’s not the biggest reader, but simon recommended it, and he has trouble saying no to simon.

his other hand explores you absentmindedly. nothing inherently sexual yet. but then he feels the waistband of your thong that had ridden up the curve of your hips from the position you’re in. he calls it serendipitous.

it’s not in a place where it’s bothering you at this point, just a slight bit of pressure. he can’t help but tug the cotton up just a little bit, waiting to see if you’ll flinch.

he pretends he’s still focused on his book when really he lost his place about five minutes ago.

you shift, readjusting and cramming yourself further into johnny’s chest, if that’s even possible at this point.

you murmur a tired “stop it,” and johnny’s hand move up your back and away from your underwear. a few more minutes of johnny pretending to read pass, and you’ve reentered that floaty state between sleep and consciousness.

he feels your breathing even out, and his hand wanders back to the band of your underwear. this time he gives it a firm yank upwards.

you screech, shooting up from his chest, now straddling his hips. you can feel his cock chubbing up through his trousers and groan in disgust.

“ugh! johnny you are such a freak, you know that?” you slap his chest, and he grabs your wrists to stop your swatting before it reached his face.

then you’re storming off, yelling one last “disgusting!” his way.

cw: 18+ mdni, fauxcest, uncle!simon, age gap (23 yo reader, 40 something Simon), pet names (honey/honey bee)

And your Uncle Simon’s is the only place where everything in your head gets quiet. You don’t particularly have to think about anything.

Not about your little siblings schedules, not how your family is still asking you for money even though your broke yourself, not when they’re constantly asking you to raise your siblings like you gave birth to them, not anyone asking why you’re mad all the time— your just you.

Uncle Simons honey bee.

You don’t know shit about cars, still don’t even after the three years you’ve been having around Simon, retired from the military and fixing cars as a hobby. Gets his fair share from it. But he’s settled in your town, lucky your dad was an old friend who worked over Ghost for some time. You were forced over Simons place to “correct your attitude” when you come back home. But Simon doesn’t correct your feelings. Not once. You may be wrong sometimes but you’re always just in your feelings. He doesn’t brush you aside. Uncle Simon lets you talk, and talk, and talk under the hood of his car, right beside him as he grunts out responses. Tells you to pass him the wretch, the screwdriver or something else.

His handy girl when you pass him the right tool, ‘fuckin silly thing’ when you’re in a fit of giggles for passing him something that’s completely different from what he asked. It’s peaceful, even if it’s just a few hours, maybe the weekend if you really need an excuse for no one to call you. You, Uncle Simon, and the little black cat he’s let you keep. Little thing crawls into your lap as you lean back in the random office chair in his garage, listening to the ticketing happening on the hood while the music from your joint playlist blares.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed. Simon, the scars that reach the top of his head to his toes, the ink that covers some of them, detailed and intricate, the was sweat drips down and dampens the wife beater he has on under his overalls that drips down his broad shoulders. The oil that stains his large and calloused hands and thick muscles have sometimes, that has your heart beating you don’t even realize as he comes over. He quickly takes up your space, making you hold your breath a little while his fingers pet the top of the cats head, earning a sweet purr before walking over to the work bench, “Don’t stare f’ too long honey bee.”

You didn’t know if that was a warning or not.

You’re shoulder to shoulder under the truck, the words ring in your ears, but you’re not tempting him. At least, that’s what you think. Simon can feel the those big doe brown eyes on him, the way you quickly slide from under the hood to catch your breath you keep holding. The way you look at the parts under the car, chewing the inside of your lip while you focus. He guides you to help him, fingers brushing each other, you can’t help but be close under this fucking truck. Your pretty face smudged with oil.

“U-uncle Simon.” You whisper out.

Neither of you realize how close you are, his lips brushing yours once. Twice, grumbling something incoherent before tugging you towards him, just enough to let his lips melt onto yours. Soft, slow yout chin in his hand, tilting you just enough to taste more of you. The older man grits a ‘fuckin hell-’ cutting himself short by sliding the both of you from under the piece of shit car. His hand holding the back of your neck as you lock lips, dirtier, faster, the ‘smack’ hitting your ears over the music till your both panting for air.

Simons jaw locks, voice dangerously low, “Get inside.”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out quickly shutting when your uncles voice rings louder, “Get inside [+], now!”

You scramble to get up, almost tripping on the tool box as you make your easy into the house.

Simon lets out a frustrated sigh, running his hands through his hair as he feels the tent in his jeans, prominent and heavy.

He told you not to stare for too long, didn’t he?

masterlist

⤷ cw: smut, age gap(reader is in their early 20’s), missionary, fraternization, spit(just once), breeding kink.

john price who was hesitant to approach you at first, knowing about your little crush on him that soap always teased him about.

“lil bonnie has a crush on ya’ cap, why not date the sweet thing ay?” he’ll chuckle amused, patting price on the back as he puffs out a smoke.

“i’m not datin’ a kid” he grumbles unamused, putting out his cigar as he stands to leave.

scoffing at the thought as he walked through the mess, you definitely are a cute young thing. all eager and obedient every time you were needed for something.

all soft and pliant, the plump of your ass and the fat on your hips making him wonder how good it would be to fuck you raw hold you close.

but it’s.. unprofessional, really. not only is he twice your age but it would also be fraternization. an old bloke like him with such a cute thing to breed go out with, feeling all the judgmental stares as he holds you by the waist.

“cap? hello?” he’s suddenly startled by your voice, grumbling under his breath as he rubs his face. definitely out of surprise and not because his cheeks were flushed.

“christ kid, what did ya need from me?” he grumbles annoyed, trying hard to focus as he stares down at your cute figure.

eyes staring at him so intently, cheeks rising with every raise of your lips, and god that smile. holding a folder between those soft hands of yours, your nipples lightly peeking over your dress shirt.

it was taking every ounce of him to not take you right here and now. “i just needed you to approve this for the next batch of supplies coming in, it would be really nice if you could do it” you mumble shyly.

john price was a patient man, but seeing a sweet little thing be so shy and needy for him was too much. he couldn’t let you suffer alone now, could he?

well that’s what he believed right now, hands pushing your knees to your chest as he pistons his thick cock into you. thumb holding down your tongue as you whined for him, cock drunk as all you could think about was his thick girth splitting you open.

sobbing from pleasure as he spits into your mouth, tongue lapping at your tears before giving you a deep kiss. planting wet kisses on your collar, rutting deeper into you as he sucks on your nipple.

“fuck, mactavish was right. i should just breed ya full and put a nice ring on that finger yeah?”

i love old man price, he’s so yummy (i might write fauxcest?)

was gonna specify his smell, but some ppl don’t like smoking and i don’t really want ppl uncomfortable. kinda awkward bc i used to smoke lol.

pervy roomate könig will be posted tomorrow! it ended up longer than i expected and i have a few more oneshots otw so i wanna post at least 2 tgt tomorrow :3

hope you guys enjoy!!

Only, he’s too mature and level-headed to ever be embarrassed about it, so he just grabs a handful of your hair and forces you to lick the semen off of his stomach while he pops another viagra

Johnny just came back from a long mission, and by now we all know he has a specific food craving.

So he sneaks into the bedroom, clothes already coming off and kneels beside the bed where his pretty little dove is sleeping. Youre already so obedient, moaning when his rough hands slide over your thighs, tugging restlessly at your panties.

"On your back, luv." Soap murmurs both impatiently and with full excitement. He's been about getting his hands on you for a month. Think about all those times hes made inappropriate gestures to Ghost using his tongue and hands to get his point across.

"I've got a pretty bonnie back home. Cunt tastes like focking heaven." He'd say, eyes rolling just at the memory of your wetness lathered all over his chin and fingers.

Immediately, Soap folds you onto your back, knees up to your chest, pussy already pulsing inside your cute little panties. He practically snaps them off with a rough tear and just as quickly shoves two fingers inside you.

"Oh fuck- shit.. Johnny.. baby, please.." Youd beg, even with your eyes half closed from sleep. Your hands would tug at his wrists, hips rolling up lazily. "Johnny, I need your tongue.. please.."

He groans, getting on his knees and shoving his face into your pussy, nose pressed against your pubes, tongue lapping happily at your tongue. A thick rumble leaves his chest as he begins pumping his fingers in and out, expertly locating your g-spot and tormenting it until your squirming and squealing.

"God, cum on my face, dove." He'd grunt, dragging his tongue from your back hole to your pretty clit. It pulses in his mouth when he sucks it inside, curling his fingers at the same time.

An embarrassingly loud sound escapes your mouth, you want to drag it back inside but its too late, youre already cumming. You hear a groan leave Soap, his tongue increasing rhythm.

Only after do you realize you squirted. All over his fucking face.

"Shit, I'm sorry, baby-" Youd rush out to say, but he'd immediately shush you, sucking his fingers into his mouth and wiping away his face.

"That was the hottest thing I've seen all month, luv. And were doing it again."

‧˚꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ SYNOPSIS once in a while, your dear boyfriend goes through an intensive rut— all of a sudden you are the only cure to the pain he’s feeling!

‧˚꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ GENRE smut, porn with little plot ‧˚꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ INCLUDES Valko

‧˚꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ CONTENT WARNING fem!reader | explicit content | no guaranteed spoilers of main/side quests | established relationship | possible grammar errors | not proof read | pwlp | hybrid AU | wolf hybrid | feral Valko | mating press | piv | implied creampies | dirty talk | unprotected sex | breeding | mention of blood 

At the start of the month it was almost completely unnoticeable, subtle. . but that sweet and slightly frustrating heat in his lower stomach was only intensifying by every passing day. Valko’s already sensitive senses were heightened even further than before; the sweet and addictive scent of your pheromones, the gentle touch of you when you lightly caressed his arms, and even the mere split second where he sees you has become far too dangerously intoxicating. Here you are, peacefully relaxing into his side while scrolling on your phone— and yet, he’s salivating like a feral dog, burying his face deeper into your hair to greedily inhale and exhale your suffocating scent, eyes blown wide with hunger and lust. . hunger to completely eat you up.

cw: smut, implied masturbation, switch!könig, inexperienced!reader, dry humping, fingering, riding, cock warming

-

All he wanted was some attention. Some quality, undivided attention that made him feel chosen. Like he wasn’t a chore or some unwanted obligation. He begged and begged and begged for just a sliver of time and sure he would get it but he could tell it was forced or the other person wasn’t really into it and he was left feeling even worse than before.

Maybe that’s why he held on to you so strongly. You seemed so genuine to him, never complaining or cutting your time together short. It was rarely anything other than platonic or the occasional hug but König was pretty sure he was in love. You’d given him a nickname, “big baby”. It was just a joke, started when you saw his eyes getting all watery after you hugged for the first time. You laughed and held his face, asking “why are you crying, you big baby? It’s just a hug.”

He started following you around wherever you went, like a massive shadow looming over you. And he insisted on holding your hand saying he didn’t want to get separated. Poor thing couldn’t even think of a believable lie, he was so desperate. You would have been happy even if he didn’t say anything and just held your hand. Most of the time you’d have to speak for him, his nerves and social anxiety making him quieter than a cotton ball falling on carpet.

Sometimes you would let him sleep in your room, only fussing at him for being too big so you had to use him as a bed. It wasn’t too bad, he was warmer than all your blankets combined and you ran cold. There was one time where he woke you up in the middle of the night and even in the dark, you could tell he was holding on by a thread trying not to cry.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Liebling, I am sorry. But- uh…” he hesitates, trying to carefully shift you off of him without being too obvious. “I have to fix something.”

You let out a small squeak of confusion when your body hits the bed and you hear him shuffle off to the bathroom and lock the door. You drift off again then wake up after some unknown amount of time to find yourself still in an empty bed and the sounds of König mumbling to himself in the bathroom. You slowly get up, yawning as you go to check on him.

“You alright in there? Come back t’bed…” you groan as you lean your forehead against the door. On the other side, König scrambles to fix himself before opening the door and causing you stumble into him. You look up wanting to be mad at him and suddenly feel very awake when you see his cheeks wet with tears. “Huh? What’s going on with you? Ya big baby.”

You instantly soften up and reach up to wipe his cheeks. Your hands go down and he shudders when they run over his torso. He licks his lips and looks down at your hands, making you follow his gaze and- oh.

“Das.” He says lowly and your eyes are hyper focused on the painful looking bulge in his sweats. The pants weren’t tight by any means but you could just see how hard he was and judging by the wet patch where his tip was, it was evident he’d been having trouble.

You take a slow breath before reaching down and stroking him through the fabric, causing him to flinch and shudder under your touch. Your throat suddenly goes dry when it twitches in your hand and you feel just how heavy it is. He whimpers above you and clenches his fists, trying so hard not to cum in his pants. He hadn’t expected to get so close so quickly when he couldn’t get himself there after ten minutes of trying.

He has to grab your wrist to stop you before he ended up making even more of a mess in his pants and you look up at him. Aside from looking so incredibly guilty, he was very much in desperate need of more. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be…”

“Don’t. Lay down for me, okay?” Your voice is softer than his and you take him back to bed, straddling him once he’s down. Truth be told you had no idea what you were doing but you assumed he didn’t either so it’s not like he’d realize it, right? You settle right on his bulge, breath catching in your throat as you slowly grind your hips back and forth and pull out a pitchy moan from König.

You let out some breathy sounds of your own and lose yourself in the feeling until his hands grab you and lift your hips up just enough to not be on him anymore. You stop and look at him, silently asking why.

“Can we…is it okay if I’m inside you?”

Your heart begins racing but you nod, getting off him to take your bottoms off while he removed his. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you could actually see his big he was and you keep staring as you get back on top.

“You sure that’s gonna fit?”

“It’s gonna have to.”

His hand travels between your legs and shakily begins to finger you to try and get you ready to take him with as little discomfort as possible. You were a moaning mess above him, and he kept hissing out curses as he watched more of your arousal flow onto his hand with each pump of his fingers. It was easy to get you to cum and once your walls relax enough, he pulls his fingers out and helps you line yourself up with his cock.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” You suddenly blurt out, nails digging into the muscles of his forearms just as he pushes the tip in. He meets your eyes and blinks.

“Was? Do you- do you not want to do it with me?” He asks and his eyes start welling up again. He almost lifts you off but you stop him, sinking down a bit lower.

“No. No I do, it’s just…you’re so big, I don’t know that I can take it.”

König’s whole body relaxes and he carefully turns over so now you were the one under him. “Nonsense, Liebling. I got you, ja?”

You nod, thrown off by the sudden change in demeanor. The change from his usual anxious self to how he calm and collected he was on ops in a split second was a bit jarring but who were you to question it? He slowly leans down and kisses you to muffle the sounds coaxed out of you as he slowly, slowly pushes himself into you. First the tip which already had you squirming and then about half way you were clawing at him trying not to go over the edge.

“König, I-“

“Hey shhh, you’re okay.” He mumbles against your lips. His hands grip your waist tighter as he thrusts the rest of himself in with a grunt and for a split second he’s back to his normal self with another whimper. “Schieße, you’re so- oh my god.”

You barely had any time to process anything going on or react because two pumps in and he was already unloading inside you. You stare at each other while he comes down from his high and you can see the look in his eyes change.

“I’m sorry.” He whines and his hands move up to your shoulders as his hips begin to move again, this time lacking any real rhythm to them. He was still hard and grinding against every inch of your cunt deliciously. He then buries his face in your neck and you feel hot tears against your skin. “Ja. Ja, ja, ja, ja, oh- shit.”

He cums a second time, now with your walls clamping down on him when your release finally arrives. You squeeze and squeeze, making him twitch and grip your shoulders harder as you milk him for everything he has. He pulls out only to lay you on your side so he can get behind you and stick his cock back in.

he's always warm, maladapted to the mugginess, and you're not that different.

you touch each other less and less, nerves overstimulated by the temperature. he keeps muscling his way into the shower because its the only place you'll let him fuck you.

you wake up in the middle of the night with sweat in the divot of your spine and stare up at the ceiling in irritation. he doesn't care because he keeps sleeping.

rationally, it's not exactly his fault. he's just made of fat and brawn which heat up quick, and you like it in the winter, that the little space of the bed forces you two to squeeze together. its nice and you miss it.

your body is still somewhat asleep and not opposed to the idea of some touching.

you decide to test out that instinct by sliding a leg over his pale thigh, shuffling closer over the humid sheets. the regret is immediate, starting your retreat the moment your ankle itches with the warmth of his skin.

simon tries to fish for you with his eyes closed, and you swat his hand away before it can make contact. "no," you bleat, already back to irritated.

he grunts his disappointment while digging his face into the pillow. you can't stand the bed anymore.

its around three and you paddle down the hallway into the kitchen. the portable AC hooked into the glass door tempts you with the beeping of its spy light, but your feet drag past it — all the windows are open, wishing to catch some stray night breeze, and it'd be a bore to shut them close.

you think about pulling a knife from the drawer and hacking at yourself from the nape down. you want your skin off. instead, you open the fridge door for some water.

the cold air is so inviting that you forget about it and stand still in front of the appliance. it brushes against your exposed midriff and under the fine fuzz on your thighs. somewhere in the back of your skull your brain protests something about electricity bills and food preservation, but you really don't want to move.

"oi." simon pads behind you, and you realise you've been standing in place longer than planned. "yer lettin' the cold out."

"go back to bed."

"s'you can hog the fridge? move over."

you feel him on your spine and keep your elbow from wanting to knock him in the jaw. "go away."

he burrs that rumble that stands in for a chuckle and puts an arm over the top of the freezer, bumping his bicep into your crown. his belly is sticky when it slots into your back, perspiration blooming there immediately, so you slouch further towards the fridge.

"fuck off. this is my space."

"th'is my space," he singsongs, and he tugs the hem of your shorts over your ass, not even bothering with the front until the cheeks are out. he knows you don't wear anything under because his thumb pads at your labia to nudge it apart.

something makes you wince, his touch or the cold air or the heat. your body prims in interest, legs widening when he rubs the tent of his crotch up and down between your cleft.

"s'too hot," you try, but his shoulders are already pressing you down into more of a bend and sliding the fabric away from your pussy until it bunches at the top of your knees. he sticks his tacky fingers over your tacky clit and gives you a couple of good rubs.

"no, its not."

he decides for both of you. you feel light-headed and don't say otherwise.

he gives up too soon the effort of coaxing you away from sleepiness in favour of spitting into his palm and smearing the thick glob over your slit, wedging between your bodies. you want to scold him because saliva is terrible for your pH and he lets you open your mouth before he pushes two fingers inside, three knuckles in until you yelp.

when he fucks you, you have to press your cheek against the freezer door to not fall forward. it's too lazy to be any true shade of good, too pleasant to be any way of bad. he pins you there with his mouth on the bone and coos that your cunt's like a bloody fever, that you're such a wet girl, it's embarrassing. you're both aware most of the moisture between you is sweat.

simon bends his neck to lap at it on the start of your spine and you shiver when he tugs down your top so he can circle a nipple until it hardens in the cold air. you think that if it weren't for the fridge you'd pass out.

his thrusts are pushes, pressing against the fullness of your ass, made less to savour the back-and-forth and more because he likes how you pulse around his cock when they force you on your tiptoes.

he doesn't pace himself, and when you feel him throb, you almost stomp over his bare foot. "make me cum," you remind him, agitated, "simon, don't you dare- ah!"

you feel him grin with all his teeth, but he strums his fingers against your clit nonetheless. "shut up," he sighs, almost annoyed, nose fitted on your occipital. his hips smack against the back of yours when the motion of his pads has you tightening. "alrigh'. yeah, you cum too... tha's it..."

his spent slides down your legs into the gusset of your shorts, and you knock your knees together to keep it off the parquet.

"darlin'," he sniffs, like it's your fault, "look at you. yer all sweaty."

you hate him a little when he hounds you into the shower. you hate him a little less with cold water washing over you.

⋆˚࿔ fucking you slow after overstimulating you ⋆˚࿔

ִֶָ🪽་༘ p in v, yes slow, deep penetration, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dex pinning you down with his body weight yayyy

dex’s got you crushed under him with his whole body heavy and hot, pinning you so deep into the mattress you can barely breathe right. his cock’s still buried so deep inside you, and when he starts moving it’s this slow, nasty drag that makes you feel every ridge, every swollen vein, the way he’s already so thick from wrecking you three times before this.

he pulls out until it’s just the fat head stretching your entrance. everything was leaking out, your slick and his cum sliding hot down your thighs in a sticky mess. then he sinks back in, inch by inch, shoving all that length right back inside you. your gasp punches out when he hits that spot again, the one that makes your toes curl and your nails dig hard into his biceps without you even realizing. dex stays right there, grinding his hips so his pelvis rubs your oversensitive clit, and the noise that rips out of you is broken, needy, almost embarrassing.

his mouth’s all over your neck, open and sloppy, sucking bruises you’ll definitely feel tomorrow. his grip on your hips is bruising, fingers trembling like he’s fighting the urge to just pound you senseless again. so before he fully loses control, he gives you another one of those slow, devastating thrusts that makes you clench around him like you’re trying to keep him there.

“come on,” he growls low against your ear, voice rough and strained, “just take a little more for me, yeah?”

he keeps going like that. slow, deep, deliberate. all you can focus on is the way his cock drags against every sensitive inch inside you. every thrust pushes more of that sticky mess deeper, fills you until you’re overflowing and the sheets are ruined beneath you.

father's day sex with papa jack :3

you're waiting up for him when he gets back from his shift, wearing some pretty black sheer babydoll and laying out on the bed. your breath catches when you see him walk through the door— his backpack slung on one broad shoulder, his tummy pressing through his scrubs, sweat beading at his neck and dampening his silver curls. he's never looked sexier. "h-happy father's day, daddy."

jack's exhausted, lidded gaze roves over your body, the way the morning light filters through the blinds and onto your curves. "oh, baby, thank you," he coos as he drops his bag onto the floor. he stalks over to the bed, sliding the sheer material up your stomach and tenderly kissing the warm skin. "mmm... you're the prettiest gift a daddy could ask for."

he wastes no time in parting your thighs. you hear the soft jingle of jack unbuckling his belt and groaning before he sinks his thick cock into your warm, wet cunt.

"fuck, baby," he pants, leaning forward to loom over you. he's pressing a juicy kiss to your lips and whispering against them, "daddy's home."

jack's thrusting deep and hard into your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, rough hands massaging over your sides while you babble, "dad, dad, dad, dad—"

the way you repeat it like you've gone dumb on his cock, like you're too stupid to be without him, makes jack's eyes roll back. "you keep callin' me dad, 'm gonna fuckin' bust, sweetheart," he grunts, "fuck, y'got so tight when i said that. you want that, hmm? you want dad fillin' you up on his special day? is that your special gift for me, baby?"

RAWRRR THATS EXACTLY WHAT WE SHOULD BE DOING

likee imagine dex sneaking into your apartment window after all his bullseye business, and you are just in your pjs watching some show with your midnight sweet treat <3 surprisingly your boyfriend wasn’t as marked up in blood nd bruises like he usually is, he’s pretty clean actually. and he walks towards you in his heavy boots and blue leather suit, a swing in his step as he falls beside you on the couch. “hey sweetheart-“ dex would sigh, but he wasn’t even able to get what he wanted to say out before you were on him, jumping in his lap and covering him in kisses. he just looked so handsome in his balaclava, his biceps all large and biteable and how intimidating his face looked covered in his mask so naturally you had to eat him up.

cw: daddy kink

holy shit.

this would have him murmuring, “shh. shh, baby. breathe f’me, yeah? c’mon kid, breathe f’me.” while he slowly moves your body so that you’re rutting onto him.

your hardened clit bumps against the pudge of his gut, making you mewl because s’too much and not enough at the same time, and he just coos as your tears spill like jaded glass.