ghoap au where you are their roommate who they fuck instead of acknowledging their feelings for each other and you are sooo glad you are wanted (even like this) for once in your life that you pretend your chest doesn't ache whenever they leave you after using you.
this keeps going on until you catch them at last having a date at a place you'd been talking about for weeks in hopes one of them would want to go with you, not even as a date but just with you, and you are left standing there and feeling like you are worth less than the dirt on their shoes while they look at each other with the softest of eyes- a look they've never even given your used body.
it's why you go to drink your sorrows away. it's why you let a man, big and thick and british with mutton chops and warm, strong hands on your waist and a rumbling voice who calls himself "john", take you back to his house and take such nice, good care of you.
come morning, he's prepared you breakfast and it's not like anyone will be missing you back at your shared flat... and so you stay, and let john price feed you and compliment how you look in the morning sun wrapped in his clothes. coincidentally, you are having such a nice time you simply forget to answer any phone calls or text messages.
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hmmm könig acting like an excited but desperate puppy, asking you “does that feel good? do you like it? tell me, is that the spot, my hase?” constantly because he has slight doubt. except he underestimates his size and already, his seemingly ‘slow’ pace is drilling into you so you’re unable to answer him.
now you’re being fucked dumb and you haven’t said anything, by his own knowledge of sex, he simply assumes he’s not pounding you good enough. his ‘slow’ pace becomes almost impossible to take when his thrusts begin to speed up and fuck you deeper.
still, könig is asking if that feels any better but you’re face first burying into the pillow, biting the sheets, given up on asking so you just end up taking his fat cock til you both cum. (aka til you feel like you’ve met death)
Simon is coming home from work later than normal. When he opens the door he is greeted with excited meowing at his feet and soft sniffles from the living room.
Trudging further into the aparment he finds you curled up on the couch, cat toy clutched in one hand, a tissue in the other.
Dropping his things on the side, he ignores the chattering menace circling his legs and drops to his knees.
The Bengal mix hops on the couch, stretching to nuzzle whatever she could get of him.
"Hi, Si" you sniffle, wiping your nose and giving him a watery smile
"Wot's wrong, pretty girl?" he asks, eyes flitting over your features. He reaches out to wipe away the tear tracks and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"She just wouldnt stop crying for you" the whine in your voice makes something clench in him. His eyes go to the cat, thats still trying to get him to pay attention to her, climbing over your legs to get closer to him, trilling and meowing.
"you gave your momma a hard time, huh?" he mumbles, finger scratching under the cats chin, going around to pet over her back. The fluffy fiend mrows at you and closes her eye in bliss.
Nodding with a sniff, you uncurl from your blanket nest and greet him properly with a kiss to his lips.
At least you try to, because when you get close enough, a furry head gets wedged between you both.
♥︎ oh nothing just thinking abt price & hes all buff but in the chunky way, like he’s not got abs, but he’s grown man meat in his belly, arms, back a little softer and UGHH. talk about a belly pooch just hanging over his sweatpants as he slides them off, not even wearing anything under as his fat thick cock slaps up. white drops flicks onto his happy trail, getting caught, hair thick and leading down to where your mouth waters and eyes cross just imagining it slowly filling your throat. talk about him now ontop of you, you’re all gagged and pretty, blindfolded wrists pinned to your side with his big hands, as he’s pummeling your cunt, slick wet sounds filling the air along with his grunts and cusses. “fuck, pet, missed this tight cunt” “look so pretty f’me all gagged and blindfolded up” and when you get all loud and wiggly he just slows down and rests his forearms by your head and peppers kisses all over your face so you know ur safe “breathe in sweet girl, im not goin anywhere” “not leaving this pretty cunt empty” “shhh, shh shh, easy girl” <3
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Toxic!Price who doesn’t understand how cats work and thinks your cat is an asshole because it bites and claws at him for trying to pet its belly and ignored how it’s tail flicked around when he got too close for comfort.
the type of guy who would throw out the cardboard boxes and paper bags your cat liked to lay in because it’s just trash and would think it’s a bit stupid to waste money on a cat tower, but would easily spend a bunch of money on toys for a dog that would eventually just turn into trash when they get all torn up.
who would passive aggressively makes his favoritism towards dogs abundantly clear in an attempt to convince you to get one, even though you’ve already said that you don’t want one.
who would lock the cat out of your room at night and ‘joke’ about putting it outside even though it’s strictly an indoor cat and people in your neighborhood have a habit of just letting their dogs roam around.
and when it all boils over and he makes you choose between him and the cat, he’s genuinely shocked and offended when you shut the door in his face after handing him a duffle bag full of his stuff.
Vs
Simon who stays perfectly still as your cat cautiously makes its way towards him on your couch, sniffing the air around him as it crawls into his lap, recognizing his scent from the traces left on you.
who talks to your cat like it’s a person and acts like he’s arguing with a child, and puts it in air jail when it sasses him. and in that same breath, will let it ride on his shoulders and carry it like a baby around the house.
the type of man to take crumple up a receipt or a post-it and toss it around the living room, waiting patiently for your cat to come trotting back to him with the crumpled up paper in his mouth.
who doesn’t mind it when your cat gets a little too excited and bites and scratches him. simply a sign of love. and he doesn’t make a big deal on the occasion it coughs up, he just mixes a charcoal pill in its water and helps you clean up the mess.
Simon who knows exactly how important your cat is to you and would easily take a bullet and/or put a bullet in someone to protect it. He’s already dreading the day it eventually dies, so he’ll do whatever he’s gotta do it make sure you get as much time with your best friend as possible.
18+, Simon Ghost Riley x Female Reader - in which Simon can't help losing his head a little whenever you make out in the early stages of your relationship.
❈❧
Simon loves kissing you, but kissing you while standing doesn’t allow him the angle he prefers. You’re much shorter than him and he has to crane his neck and scoop you close to embrace you properly. While your first kiss was perfect, and he wanted to take things slow in the physical realm of your relationship, Simon knew that he wanted to kiss you for long, longer moments at a time, and would like to have you laying down beneath him to indulge in the act. That would only lead things further from there, but he could not help how quickly his mind lost its command over his restraint—not when your lips were soft and pressing, catching and lingering, parting and seeking his again. He’d groan deep in his chest and you’d feel it against your roving hands, and the resonance of it made your obliging legs tremble.
Simon felt them as your knees brushed against his sides, against his ribs, dangerously close to enfolding around him. He’d watch your eyes flutter open, blinking away some haze to find him.
“Pretty girl,” he’d murmur, entranced by your softened, gentle mouth and thumbing the plump edge of it, and fuck, if he didn’t get hard right then and there at your contented smile and the fond caress of your hand as you hooked your palm over the back of his neck, nails seeking his hair. Your upper lip enveloped Simon’s aimless thumb and took him into the sweet warmth of your mouth, tasting the salt of his skin, and the bulge in his jeans made itself at home right against your pelvis.
You’d give a surprised and pleased moan at the feel of him before he could feel ashamed (Christ, what happened to taking things slow?), and it would be so easy to fumble with each other’s clothes, kissing all the while he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down your thighs, pinning your knees to your front because he’s too impatient for his access. Freeing himself, tugging your panties to the side so you were exposed, and then the perfect, seamless slotting together ascending to firm, yet gentle thrusts. God yes, Simon thinks, rutting against you now, it’d only take a few, and he could circle and press your clit so you’d come as quickly as he would lost in the grip, the warmth, the sounds of your moans and slick sex and the delirious motion and rhythm of moving within you until he peaks and you leak with his spend.
At the sudden, soft inquiry of his name and your waist curving into him to meet his fervor, he snaps out of his reverie. He pulls away and sits up, breath ragged, with the last of his restraint.
“’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to get so carried away.”
