#minecraft survival

The living room was surrounded by snacks, wrappers, blankets, and pillows from the bedroom. The large flat screen TV gleamed down like the sun on a rainy day, your toes perched on the coffee table, and your hair forever hidden beneath a bonnet.

Simon didn't say anything at first during your Minecraft phase. He slept beside you on the couch when tiredness took over, but the ambient sounds of Minecraft didn't stop.

He kissed your forehead in the morning, before the crack of dawn, already annoyed at the sight of you, crisscrossed on the couch, console controller in your hands, fingers tapping rapidly on the buttons while you killed zombies and creepers and every other thing that Simon began to get fed up with.

"Can you get up and do something?" Simon grumbled with irritation, voice a little too low for you to hear. You hummed, glancing at him, eyes rimmed red, a bag of chips in your lap, along with your laptop, where you watched 100 Days of Minecraft videos.

Who watches Minecraft while they play it?

You apparently.

Simon missed listening to you talk about anything and everything. Now, he was bombarded with Look what I built in Minecraft and God, Simon, can I just play Minecraft right now?

He felt like a neglected child.

"I said, can you get up and do something," Simon called obnoxiously, leaning against the kitchen counter in the apartment, eyes glued to you.

You didn't even glance at him, sinking further into the couch, "I still have to build my XP farm, Simon. Then I have to find the stronghold to beat—"

"Want to know the last time you said anything not Minecraft-related to me? Two weeks ago. When is this little phase gonna end?" Simon ran a hand over his head, hazel eyes dangerously dark with annoyance, but you didn't care.

"Simon, I rarely get to do anything I want. It's always kill that guy and don't kill that one, or an op tomorrow, or let's go do recon. I want to play Minecraft!" You shouted without any bite, a tiny smile on your lips because, apparently, this game was more joyful than Simon, your husband.

Simon grumbled, louder this time, banging his forehead against the counter. He pushed into the living room, chest bare and oiled up, with the glittery oil you reserved for nights out.

You didn't notice until you finally let go of the controller and looked at him. You paused, eyebrow quirking, and Simon moved closer, hands on his hips as he 'subtly' pulled the waistband of his pants down, revealing clean-cut lines at his hips and tufts of blonde hair.

Blushing, you tilted your head at him, deadpanning, "are you trying to seduce me off of Minecraft?" Simon glanced down at your bare legs, running a slow, deliberate hand over his shiny chest, further spreading the glittery oil.

It was the first time you'd looked away from the screen—besides bathroom breaks, and Simon should've made you get up to get your own food, but unsadly, he was your bitch—and Simon reveled in your attention, "is it working?" He moved closer, kneeling in front of you and grabbing your calf, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You didn't say anything, your chest rising heavily as you gripped his head. "Can I save first?" Simon ignored you, immediately tugging your panties aside to reveal your dripping cunt, his dick hard against the front of the couch.

"I don't mind you playing Minecraft, but at least give me attention too, yeah?" You nodded, head resting against the back of the couch as Simon's tongue lolled out and licked a strip up your cunt.

Your legs rested over his shoulders, fingernails dragging through his short-cropped hair, blurred eyes watching a zombie approach and kill you. But it didn't matter, because Simon pushed a finger inside of you, curling it just right.

"Fuck, Simon—keep going."

Simon obeyed, hips rutting into the couch, rough, ragged breaths escaping his nose and hitting your cunt delightfully. "Gonna pay attention to me more?"

"As soon as you give up Fortnite." You mutter, voice hiking at the end, toes curling with each thrust of Simon's finger. He rolled his eyes, moaning against you, a wet patch of cum on the front of his pants.

"I don't play Fortnite nearly as much as you play Minecraft."

You licked your lips, pressing his mouth harder against you, "you scream all night with Soap and Gaz, then, when the three of you lose—because you're trash—you ask me to join and get mad when I say I have to carry you."

Simon chuckled at your words, pushing another finger into your cunt, smirking when you tightened around him. He didn't reply to your earlier statement—you were right—and he could feel you getting closer to your climax.

Your belly tightened, hips rutting against his mouth, and your eyes peeled open, staring into his, feeling the cold drag of his wedding band against your thigh as he squeezed it.

"Almost there, lovie?" He muttered, pulling away his mouth to thrust into you faster, watching the gush of your arousal as he did, utterly taken with his wife.

"Yeah, I'm almost—fuck!" You spat, spine rigid as you came, and Simon took it all in, fingers ripping out of you as he latched onto your cunt once more, watching your face twist into unbridled pleasure.

"Simon?" You called when he pushed onto the couch beside you. Simon glanced at you, eyelids low, hand stuffed into his pants. You pushed over him, tugging his waistband down as you grabbed his dick, "can you play Minecraft with me?"