#LOVE U COLA | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quizzicalwriter · 6 months

Note

cola is one of the most well written fics i’ve ever read😭 i love the way you write ellie please please write more older ellie!! u are so talented <333

Haunted

Pairing: Older Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

Summary: Follow-up of “Cola.” Ellie likes you, maybe a bit too much.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Perv!Ellie, Older Ellie, kissing, touching, oral, car sex. Some darker thoughts on Ellie’s part.

A/N: Thank you for the request! And for the kind words! Part three here!

Word Count: 2.6k

It was perverse, Ellie knew that, but as she held your bundled-up panties in her left hand as her right swirled her fingers around her clit she couldn’t bring herself to care. After the incident where you’d accidentally flashed her you’d put up white curtains in your bedroom, white curtains that were noticeably sheer. Ellie was sure you didn’t know that they were, either way, she thanked God whenever you’d strip down in the middle of your bedroom.

An involuntary groan pulled itself from her throat as you dropped your towel, wet hair splayed to your body, lips moving as though you were humming or speaking about something. All Ellie could focus on was the look of your breasts through the curtains, and how your hands moved over them as you looked around your room for something. She plunged her middle and ring finger into her cunt, palm bumping into her clit with each push of her fingers. The lewd sound of her wetness echoed through the room whenever she’d jerk her fingers up into her cunt, paired with the grunts of your name as she let her head fall back against the bed frame.

She brought your panties to her face, breathing in your earthy scent, almost as though she could taste you on her tongue. Her eyes all but rolled back at the scent, fingers clutching against the white fabric as her hips jerked up into her hand. If you’d been paying attention you might’ve been able to see her through her bedroom window, she wasn’t exactly being secretive about what she was doing - yet you continued getting dressed, blind to what she was doing a mere distance away.

With a strangled cry of your name, she came around her fingers, cunt spasming down against the digits as she clutched onto your underwear. She’d hardly had a moment to catch her breath before she heard her front door open, followed by a loud call of her name. She cursed under her breath, ripping her hand from her boxers as she scrambled to her feet, quickly shoving your underwear back into her bedside table as she stumbled over her feet pulling on her jeans.

“Ellie?” Her wife called again, her voice agitated and growing closer. Ellie turned to their floor-length mirror, straightening herself out before turning to the door, just as her wife walked in.

“You’re home,” Ellie stated, motioning to the bag her wife held in her left hand. “Thought you’d be out longer.”

“Don’t act too excited.” She responded, rolling her eyes as she tossed her bag down to the floor. “Missed you is all.”

Ellie feigned a smile, taking in a breath before moving to her wife, placing a kiss on her temple.

“Missed you too.”

Two weeks, that’s how long it’s been since you’d last seen Ellie. Spring break was long over, yet it somehow seemed fresh in your mind. The way her hands held your hips, her fingers circling your clit, her lips against your body. The thoughts swallowed you whole, causing you to completely doze off, rereading the same passage of your schoolbook over and over as you thought about that night.

It wasn’t until everyone started moving from their seats to leave for the day that you realized you’d wasted a whole hour daydreaming about Ellie. It was stupid, she was your parent's neighbor and it’d been a fling, she made that much apparent by how she refused to meet your gaze the following days, not bothering to return your wave when you’d pulled out of your parent's driveway on your way back to campus.

You’d thought of her at night, fingers pumping into your cunt, desperately trying to mimic the rhythm she’d used as she’d pounded you into her mattress. It never worked, never felt as good as she did and that only added to your frustration. It’d have been one thing if she was hot and ignored you, but she was hot and impossibly good in bed - it was rude.

After you’d made it back to your dorm you were pleasantly surprised to find it empty - not that you didn’t like your roommate, she was sweet, but it was nice to have the room to yourself from time to time. With you having nothing better to do you decided to get on your phone, hopping onto Facebook to see what all your family had been up to, seeing as none of them knew how to use anything other than that godforsaken app.

Worst decision possible.

As soon as the feed loaded, you were greeted with the sight of your parents and everyone who’d been in attendance at the neighborhood block party, including Ellie. That same damn outfit she’d worn when she’d ordered you to strip in her kitchen. It was almost as though you could feel her, how the back of her hand trailed along your inner thighs. You’d wasted nearly five minutes staring at the photo before you locked your phone, letting it fall to the floor as you stared at the ceiling with an almost childish frown.

You were going to get drunk.

Luckily for you the nearest gas station was less than a five-minute walk from your dormitory, you’d gone there on more than one occasion with your friends - usually to mix liquor into your Slurpees, but what else were you going to do in a quiet town?

The gas station was empty when you entered, save for an intoxicated employee who blasted horrible music from his phone - intoxicated on what? You couldn’t say, but whatever it was, he seemed to be soaring. You laughed silently to yourself as you weaved through the isles, picking up a bag of chips before making your way over to their limited selection of alcohol. You weren’t one to drink on the best of days, but today felt like a day worthy of a hangover.

You picked out something cheap that promised to taste like fruit, you had no idea if the claim on the bottle was true or not, but in truth, you didn’t care. It wasn’t until you had everything bagged and were outside the store that you realized the cashier didn’t even bother to card you, you’d had your ID on you, but he didn’t ask.

“Fuckin’ weird.” You murmured to yourself, moving down the sidewalk and onto the curb, propping yourself up on the concrete as you rifled through your bag.

“You know how late it is?” A voice asked, making you instinctually scream, your body freezing up in terror until your mind registered the voice.

Ellie.

You looked up, catching her gaze fixated on you, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Surely from having scared the absolute Christ out of you. You nodded, lips parting as you grabbed your phone from your back pocket, clicking the screen on only to realize it was much later than you’d originally thought. You looked back up to her then, clearly confused.

“Why are you out? Especially out here, I mean it’s like a twenty-minute drive. That and there’s a 7/11 way closer than this one near our neighborhood.”

Ellie didn’t seem phased by your questioning, simply moving to sit beside you on the curb with a soft sigh, resting her forearms on her knees. “They have better Slurpees.”

You snorted, twisting the cap off of your drink. The words seemed like bullshit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the real reason why Ellie found herself where you were. You tossed the bottle back, eyes immediately screwing shut as the acrid taste coated your tongue - whatever it was, it was not fruit.

“You could’ve told me you didn’t want to see me again.” You replied through a groan, passing her the bottle without so much as a second thought. She took it, inspecting the label before taking a sip herself, having virtually the same reaction you’d had.

“I’m married.” She responded, eyes flickering over to you for a moment before looking back to the bottle, taking a second sip a moment later. “I can’t do this with you.”

The words hurt more than you thought they would, making you look down to the wet asphalt as you choked back a hurt laugh. You took the bottle from her then, chugging a decent amount before your body all but rejected the next sip. Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it was the hurt feelings swelling within your chest, whatever it was it dampened any want to hold back.

“Should’ve thought of that before you fucked me.”

Ellie looked over to you then, grabbing the bottle from your hands to place it on the ground before her. Her gaze felt suffocating at times, almost as though you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. She brushed her thumb along your jaw, a languid smile on her lips as she trailed her thumb across your bottom lip.

“You don’t want me.” She whispered, as though she were trying to convince herself of the words rather than you. “I won’t be good for you, I’m twice your age.”

Her warning wasn’t registering in your mind, hidden pleas for you not to fall for her - it was too late for that. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss harsh enough that you were sure you’d cut your bottom lip on your teeth. Your hands snaked behind her head, threading through her hair as you deepened the kiss. She let you, lips parting as her tongue met yours. You could taste the cheap liquor on her tongue combined with your lip balm.

You only pulled away when your lungs ached for air, eyes fluttering open as you caught your breath. Ellie stared at you, a mixture of arousal and bewilderment clear in her eyes.

“Let me think for myself.”

Ellie nodded with a short-lived laugh, pushing herself up by her knees before extending a hand down to you, which you quickly took. Her grasp on your hand was tight, borderline possessive. It reminded you of the way her hand had held both of yours by your wrists, the way her fingerprints had left bruises behind on your skin.

Normally you’d have been weirded out at the prospect of going into a nearby deserted parking lot with someone you hardly knew, but you trusted Ellie for some reason you didn’t quite understand. She unlocked her car with her free hand, movements illuminated by the overhead streetlights. Instead of moving to the front of the car, she moved to the back, popping open the back door before turning to you.

“Need me to help you in?” She asked, tone cocky as she slid into the backseat. You shook your head, following in after her. The car wasn’t cramped, if anything it was pretty damn nice. Had to be a 70s make, something she took pride in with the way everything glowed and smelled divine.

You’d hardly had a moment to take in the appearance of the car before she jerked you toward her by your hips, causing you to fall back against the car door, hands shooting down beneath you to hold your upper half upright.

“Ellie?” You laughed out in disbelief. “The fuck?”

Your skirt had moved up at the motion, exposing your lace underwear to her eyes, she couldn’t help the groan that passed her lips. She moved back against the seat, enough room for her to lean forward, bringing her level with your cunt. She didn’t bother to respond, wrapping her arms around your upper thighs, hands squeezing at the flesh there as she kissed your cunt through your underwear, earning her a whine from your lips.

“Thought about you all week.” She murmured, moving back an inch to remove your underwear, pocketing them just as she’d done before. “Thought about how good you’d taste.”

You whimpered, the noise nearly pathetic as she pressed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs. She seemed territorial over you, her motions desperate and rough, as though she’d been deprived of you for years. You had no objections, instead scooting down farther to bring yourself closer to her, clenching around nothing at the feeling of her breath against your soaked cunt.

“Such a pretty cunt.” She whispered before licking a stripe up your folds, grunting at the saccharine taste. Your head fell back, all but smacking against the car door as you moaned out her name, hands instinctively flying to her hair. She loved it, loved feeling you lose yourself because of her actions.

She swirled her tongue around your clit, chuckling inwardly at the way your hips would twitch whenever a sensation became too much for you to bear, only spurring her on further. She swiped her tongue side to side, wanting nothing more than to see you come undone just from her tongue alone.

Your hands tangled themselves in her auburn hair, hips rutting in tandem with her tongue as it laved at your cunt, every moan that left your lips making her ache. The fact that Ellie was eating you out in a desolate parking lot was not lost on you, the worry of being caught occasionally made you look away from her and out the car windows, ensuring nobody was around. Yet all you could care about was the way Ellie sucked at your clit, practically drinking your juices as her arms hooked around your thighs, green eyes trained on you.

Her gaze was near paralyzing, something hidden within it that made your heart still. Instead of frightening you, it aroused you. Whenever she noticed your eyes moving anywhere but hers she’d tighten her grasp on your thighs, nails digging into the soft skin.

“Focus on me.” She ordered, wiping her thumb along her bottom lip before dipping it into her mouth, sucking your juices off of the digit. “Just me.”

You nodded, unable to say anything as she moved back between your legs, sucking your clit into her mouth before letting off with a lewd pop. She brought one of her hands down, spreading your folds to lick up your cunt, causing your hips to jerk down against her face, earning you an amused chuckle from her as she continued her movements.

“Fuck, Els-“ You whined, feeling yourself clench around her tongue as she brought you closer to your orgasm. She hummed in response, fingers digging into your upper thighs as she swirled her tongue around your clit, drinking you up as much as she could. Your head fell back, wanton moans pouring from you as your grasp on her hair tightened.

“Cum on my tongue, baby.”

That was all you needed, cumming with a strangled cry as your hips jerked in her hold, riding out your orgasm against her perfectly skilled tongue. You could hear her sucking along your folds, the pleasure overriding itself into near-blinding overstimulation in less than a second. You whined, pushing at her hands that rested on your lower stomach. She pulled away after a moment, lips and chin glistening in your juices.

She sat back against the backseat, wiping at her face with the bottom of her shirt. You were completely fucked out, your skirt pushed up to your stomach, underwear missing - again. You looked utterly spent, the sight causing Ellie to let out a chuckle as she pulled down your skirt, giving you some semblance of modesty back.

“How’d you find me?” You asked, moving to rest up on your elbows. “I didn’t even tell you what college I go to.”

Ellie shrugged, smile never faltering as she rested her arm against the headrest of the backseat. “You’re easy to find.” Was all she said, watching with amused eyes as you moved to sit up, cheeks still flushed a beautiful crimson color, one she wanted to see every day for the rest of her damn life if she could help it.

“That’s creepy.” You laughed out half-heartedly, smoothing back your hair. “You watching me, Ellie?”

“Maybe.”

A/N: I may make this into a series, I love older and somewhat unhinged Ellie way too much. Anyways, thank you all for the interactions with my work! I greatly appreciate it. Any requests you may have feel free to leave in my inbox! As always, you can find my work over on my AO3 as well under the user, “Unscriptural.” Thank you again!

Taglist: @fairyysoiree @slutforelliewilliamz @p4ison1vy @caitlynsslut

#anon ask #my work #request #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie williams the last of us

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callmemickey · 8 months

Text

Pepsi Cola

synopsis: Simon is on his break, but that doesn’t mean you stop working. After a full two weeks of mandatory overtime to complete a project, you were exhausted, absolutely beat. Simon’s been home for a few weeks and was starting to feel guilty. Watching you come home so tired you pass out on the couch? It was frustrating seeing you so drained. Well… it’s Friday night, and you’re sooo exhausted, love - why don’t you lie down and let Simon help you relax?

content: afab, porn w a plot, smut (GET YA PUSSY ATE!!!, fingering, overstim), not fluff?per se but he loves u.

word count: ~3.6k I think idk

notes: Title named after Cola by Lana Del Rey hayyyy iykyk

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Your keys felt so heavy in your hand as you attempted to fish them out of your deep, cluttered purse. They were tangled on something, and with an infuriated grunt, you yanked terribly hard, jerking them violently out of the thralls of your corded headphones. You really needed to switch to wireless. You fumbled them momentarily in your hand, trying to find your house key as the small porch light was your only guide, the sky dark like navy ink. “Fuck,” you mumbled, finally finding the key and opening the front door.

Soft, warm lights lit up the entryway, beckoning you to enter the fortress of comfort, an escape from the throes of responsibilities and existing. A groan left your lips as you closed the heavy door and locked it. The house smelled delicious like a home cooked meal, reminding you that Simon saved you dinner for when you came home. Your stomach growled, eager. “I’m home.” Your voice was loud and filled with fatigue as you called out to your fiancé, always making sure to signal that it was you and not someone breaking in.

You’ll never forget when you tried to surprise him one time. When you got into the living room, presumably as quiet as the dead, he had grabbed you and flipped you onto the couch. “You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” You said yes, and later told him you’ll need to break in more often as he was putting his shirt back on, his back covered with red hot stripes from your fresh manicure.

You walked down the hallway, kicking off your high heels, shuffling towards the living room, your pantyhose helping you glide across the hardwood floors as lifting your feet felt nigh impossible. Simon, ever attentive, met you in the hallway before you could even get into the living room. “Ah, love, you must be exhausted.” His tone was soft, calming, and understanding. The energy that poured from you was prickly and sharp at best, cannibalistic at worst, because while he wanted to generously touch your arm, he was worried for his.

Your purse dropped unceremoniously from your shoulder and onto the floor as you trudged over to the couch. “This week has been terrible,” you grumbled as you plopped chest first onto the cushions, “so much overtime to get a project done for the shareholders. As if it’s my fault that budgets were cut.” Your voice was muffled in the fabric.

The couch sunk by your feet as you felt Simon’s hand gingerly begin to rub your toes, arches, and heels. His thumbs gently but firmly pressing into the swollen, tired flesh of your foot elicited a moan of relief from you. “C’mon, Y/N, why don’t you go wash up? I have your dinner in the oven - I’ll get it started. Let’s go.” His voice was still delicate, supportive.

Simon ushered you up and you sighed, giving a small nod in agreement.

You went into the bathroom and stripped off your clothes. You knew what you were getting into when you were promoted to senior marketing manager, but recently you wished you had better foresight. You turned on the shower, hoping that the hotter the water, the more likely it will boil and burn off any trace of this week happening. As you washed your hair and body, you thanked whatever god allowed for Hell Week to be over. When you felt you were thoroughly cleansed from files, papers, and way too many sticky notes, you ended your shower, wanting to forget the sound of telephones ringing and keyboards clacking.

With a towel wrapped around your body and hair, you stepped out of the bathroom and sighed, the hot, fragrant steam spilling over into the cool bedroom, licking the air. You took the towel off of your head, gently squeezing water out of your hair as you walked to the dresser. You opened your underwear drawer with your hand, humming at your options.

“Feelin’ better?” Simon’s voice purred from the doorway. You looked over and saw him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed - and they briefly rippled with a flex, as if he were holding back. You did a double take, glancing from his feet up at his face. His eyes were half-lidded and a small half smirk sat on his lips. You knew that look. He was ravenous.

“Yeah. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” You asked before attempting to divert your attention back to the drawer.

“Like what?” He uncrossed his arms, strolling over to you, towering high above. You looked up at Simon’s face.

“Like that!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he buried his face against your neck, sniffing your smooth skin, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash so deep, letting it etch in his memory like carving stone.

He molded his body against yours, hands gripping deeply at your waist, fingers pressed into the plush towel. Your hands reached to wrap around his neck. His warm lips began to leave deep, hot trails against your skin, causing you to sigh in satisfaction. Simon kept your bodies tight together, lips trailing up to your ear. He nibbled at your earlobe, sucking gently at the flesh before biting at the shell, creating a surge of pleasure to pool in your core. You whimpered, hips bucking against his jeans. Your chest heaved in shallow sighs while he continued teasing you, breathing hot puffs against your ear, letting goose bumps sweep across your skin.

“Let me take care of you.” His voice was a hot whisper, and what he gave to you was not a suggestion, but a demand.

“Mmm, you don’t have to baby,” you purred softly, a tame deferment, placidly defying him.

You tested the waters and he called your bluff. He squeezed at your waist, a little firmer than you thought he would. His voice was a low growl, “Take off your towel and lie on the bed.”

Your body began to hum on the same frequency as his, his jeans becoming incredibly firm against your stomach. Simon pulled away, his half-lidded eyes darkening as they swirled with an insatiable drive. Your breath hitched in your chest, your stomach flipping as your cunt twitched in need.

You paused for too long. A hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass and gripped the fat flesh. You yelped more so at the sudden action than the sting. “And what do you say?” He asked, and your arousal caused you to feel your cheeks flush hot.

Your chest heaved. “Yes, sir.” Your voice was quiet, and he smiled.

“Thas my good girl, so god damn beautiful and smart. Go on then, let me see those gorgeous tits.” He moved his hands away from your ass and waist.

Your stomach flipped again, but you obliged, loosening the towel and letting it fall to the floor. Simon took a deep inhale, exhaling sharply as he eyed your body, and right now he looked like he desperately needed to sink his cock into you, but that wasn’t really part of his plan tonight.

He inhaled one more time, blinking himself back to reality as he gave your ass pleasant tap with just enough force to get it to jiggle. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, get your arse on that bed now.” He was at the point of fully commanding you around, but you were okay with that, and you would do anything he ever asked of you. Anything for your wonderful fiancé.

“Yes, sir.” You said coyly, causing his lips to twitch back into a smirk. You felt yourself melt a little while you walked over to the bed, plopping down on the edge.

Simon walked over to you, so unbelievably tall while you were sitting down. Heat pooled down to your stomach when you glanced down at his jeans. You looked back up at him, licking your bottom lip absentmindedly. He smiled, sighing. “Not tonight, love.” He scolded lovingly.

“Later?” You asked.

He paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Later,” he agreed, letting you win - which caused you to smile mischievously.

Simon leaned down to you, grabbing you by your waist and tossing you up higher onto the bed. You yelped with a smile, giggling as you fell down on your back, bouncing softly on the down blanket. Simon’s lips came down against yours, giving you little to no time to adjust. His hands, gentle on the naked flesh of your waist, whispered ghostly touches up your sides before eventually cupping your breasts. Your moans were lost in his mouth as his fingers squeezed and rubbed at your nipples, your hands finding themselves lost in his hair. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, your cunt swollen, begging and weeping for his abuse.

He moved his lips down to your neck, kissing, sucking, and gently biting you. Simon moved a hand from your breast and used it as leverage next to your head while the other hand slid down your front, tickling your sensitive skin, roaming over your stomach and mound. His fingers dipped down between your folds, pressing into your wet heat. You let out a pathetic whimper at the contact alone, raising it into a moan as his fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit.

“Ah, yeah? You like that, Y/N?” He purred against your neck before pulling away to see your reaction. You bit your lower lip and nodded feverishly at him, eyebrows furrowed. Simon smiled, your wet hair sticking to your face, providing a cool relief to the heat that swarmed your body like a furnace.

“Ye-yeah, yes- yes, sir,” you managed to gasp out. His smile turned into a smirk as he felt your cunt twitching. As if answering your unspoken prayers, his two digits dipped and pushed into your needy hole. A gasp was ripped from you, jaw dropping slightly at the sudden filling of your cunt.

“God, already so wet - my girl has the best fucking pussy.” He gave a small thrust, causing you to moan gently and buck your hips. “Oh, the things I’d do just to have my cock buried in you,” he growled before gently pumping his fingers.

Your tits bounced as his digits softly fucked into you, fingers curling up and rocking your hips, pressing into that spot that had your eyes rolling back. Your grip left his hair and soon grasped desperately onto his back, causing him to groan while your nails dug at him. “Ha, ah, harder,” you gasped as your hips bucked against his hand.

Simon smiled. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my fingers, don’tcha baby?” He asked, your cunt twitching embarrassingly at his words.

“Yes- yes, sir, please!” You whined.

“Hold on, love,” he sighed before rocking his fingers into you at an ungodly pace.

Your voice raised pitch before becoming lost in your throat, your head thrown back and eyes gone. All that filled the room was the sounds of your juices squelching against his fast moving digits. The silence was soon cut, moans finally finding their way out of you. Your fingernails dragged frantically at his back, as if you were fighting to stay grounded. Your cunt constricted harshly around his fingers, trapping him.

Your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucked against his fingers and your thighs squeezed at his hips. Like a cool tidal wave poured over you, a chill ran down your back as your body surged with pleasure, leaving you crying out Simon’s name. He chuckled softly with a gentle voice, “Ahhh, thas my good girl, huh?” His voice was like a warm blanket of clouds, helping you down from your dizzying high. He pulled his fingers out and gave a small slap to your pussy, causing you to whine and your hips to stutter as he teased the tender flesh.

“Jesus, Simon,” you whimpered, your head still swimming in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He chuckled at your reaction while planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping at your breasts to lope a nipple into his mouth. You let out a throaty groan as his teeth pulled at the sensitive, hardened bud. Your nails that raked at his back moved back up to his hair, the pads of your fingers pressing firmly into his scalp as his locks slid and tightened betweens your digits. The sensation had him sighing against your mounds.

He released your breast from his mouth, his teeth squeezing at your nipple before fully letting go, causing you to let out a small yelp. Simon began to kiss down your chest and the expanse of your stomach. He placed deep kisses at your hips before heading towards the simmering heat of your cunt - sticky, wet, and begging. He looped his arm under your thigh, hand holding your hip to keep you in place.

Simon’s lips pressed against your swollen clit, causing you to gasp harshly. His tongue, flat and hot, slid up your folds, extracting a long moan from you, and in response he moaned. “I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he hummed against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice driving straight to your core.

You groaned, your hips grinding against him in response which caused him to chuckle against you. “O-oh God, Simon!” You cried at the overwhelming stimulation, your legs shaking at his persistence as he buried his mouth into your cunt.

Simon lapped at you hungrily like a man dehydrated, drinking at your sloppy pussy as if he’d never be able to go back down on you again. It was gluttony and pure greed. He had commented before about how he hopes his manner of passing is drowning while you straddle his face. You laughed and said maybe one day! He didn’t think your joking demeanor was appropriate, and how he meant every word with serious intent. Whenever he’s being deployed on a mission, he always assures you he won’t die, because you’re the only one that could take him out. Of course, you didn’t truly understand the depth of his conviction.

Simon’s teeth gently nibbled and helped to create a suction around your clit, his dampened fingers once again finding your hole and pushing in. You let out a loud moan, your hips driving against his face, his nose pressing onto your mound as he did everything he could to keep you two attached, connected. He moved his head to match with your movements, keeping his mouth glued flat to your pussy, and any attempt to pull yourself away from him would prove futile.

Your fiancé has a wonderfully keen gift of being a giver. He was always so incredibly selfless with you, which could get almost aggravating as he was certain on making sure that your needs were met first. This attitude carried over to the bedroom. He could give you fifty orgasms and beg to give you fifty more while never even taking his shirt off.

What he loves, besides bringing you pleasure you’ve never experienced before, is seeing you lost in passion. Watching your face twist as he stretches you with an additional finger, your eyes rolling back as he hits that sweet spot, your hips grinding as you chase after your orgasm, your back arching and legs shaking as the euphoria and bliss crash over and through you. Simon got off by simply being the source of your arousal, and he savored unraveling you thread by thread before you’re bare before him.

That’s what he loved.

Your pleasure brimmed to the top, the lip, before finally pouring over. Your hands gripped tight at his scalp, legs tightened around his head as your back arched, head thrown back. Your cunt tightened deliciously around his pumping digits, his tongue still swirling around your clit as he rode out your orgasm. “F-Fuck, Simon!” You cried, moaning loudly, still holding onto him as the high came to slow, but he didn’t stop.

He continued to pump and lap at your clit, causing you to squeal in overstimulation, legs beginning to shake as a concoction of pleasure and pain pulsed through your core with every pass of his tongue. “I can’t- ah! Simon, please!” You sobbed, begging him to stop. A harsh groan left you, your body trying to shake him away as he kept his mouth to you. It wasn’t fair - it was too much. You were starting to burnout, your body sore and barely able to keep up. Regardless of your exhaustion, another orgasm was in the horizon, slowly reaching it’s peak before ultimately falling into a frenzied bliss.

“You gonna cum again, baby?” Simon mumbled against your sex, the vibrations causing you to groan roughly as your hands moved from his head to the sheets, grasping them with a white-knuckled grip, back arched impossibly high as you tried to wriggle away. You nodded frantically at his question, your body squirming and tossing with no ability to stop or control it as he pushed you to your limits.

You never doubt that Simon can bring you another orgasm in quick succession - he’s proven that true multiple times, almost every time, especially now. Your poor clit, though, was bullied and battered, the bundle of nerves crying out in both pain and pleasure. But it was a slave to Simon. Even during the loneliest of nights, months in bed by yourself, you could never make yourself feel how he makes you feel. It was maddening, and frankly unfair, but it made the intimate times with him all the more exhilarating and mind numbing. What makes it better is that no one but Simon has been able to bring you into such a state of ecstasy.

Simon’s free hand, still wrapped around your thigh and holding onto your hip, held you so tightly in place he pinched at your skin. You were going to bruise there, you knew, but you didn’t really care. Even though it was like edged like a razor, your release was fast approaching with no stops. You panted heavily, loudly, your body involuntarily writhing as the pleasure tipped you over the scale. His tongue dragged hot and firm against your clit, his fingers still thrusting and rubbing the spongy spot inside your cunt as the muscle enclosed and clamped around him, unforgiving.

“Oh, God!” You cried loudly, tears pricking at your eyes as you used a hand to cover your face.

Your orgasm came fast and sharp. His onslaught was staggering and unrelenting, and it brought an end that was piercing, sudden. A scream was ripped from you as the pleasure came like a heavy punch, borderline painful. It was a surge of electricity that ripped through your core, shocking your nerves and forcing your body to briefly tense… but it all dissipated almost immediately. Your mind and body crashed.

Your back collapsed onto the bed and Simon’s fingers slid out of your clenching cunt, his mouth pulling away from your swollen, angry clit. A moan of relief fell out of your mouth as Simon crawled atop you, a hand pushing the hair out of your face as he planted his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply and fully. Your juices had coated his lips in abundance, and you tasted yourself as his tongue slipped into your mouth. His tongue was slick, and he made sure that you entire mouth was coated with yourself.

He pulled back, allowing you the space to sit up, delirious, face hot and wet from sweat. Simon stifled a laughter behind a tightly pursed mouth. “What.” Your tone strained with trying to demand an answer, but it was hoarse from your yelling and crying.

He shook his head, his eyes fluttering. “Your hair, love.”

Your hands shakily went to your hair, feeling it messy and sticking up at odd angles. “Ah.” You nodded, trying to run your fingers through to flatten it out.

Simon preemptively got up to the bathroom and came out with a brush, taking a seat behind you as he silently began brushing out your hair, starting at the ends. You two took the moment quietly, slowly, and embraced just being in each other’s presence. The session was hot and heavy, and having Simon nearby, gently brushing out your vicious knots, was soothing on your frazzled nerves, like aloe on a sunburn. “You feelin’ good, babe?” He asked in a quiet tone.

You hummed. “Yeah, but that last one was really intense.” You commented, eyebrows briefly furrowed as the third orgasm continued to make your body shudder. His hands suddenly wrapped deep in your hair at the base of your scalp, and with a gentle tug, he pulled your head back to look at him, causing you to gasp quickly.

“Were you able to handle it?” His brown eyes bore into you, and you gave a restrained nod, almost forgetting that his hand was keeping your head steady.

Your voice was meek and small, “Yes, sir.”

Simon smiled, kissing your forehead. “That’s my girl,” he purred, gingerly releasing your head and putting the brush on the nightstand. He gave you a kiss on the top of your head as he stood up, commenting about checking on dinner.

You noticed his cock was rock solid in his jeans, pressing and straining against the denim so tight it must’ve hurt. God, you wanted to return the favor more than you could possibly put into words. He noticed your gaze and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards so your eyes met his.

“Later, like we agreed.” His voice was low, firm, and painfully arousing. Literally. Your clit throbbed with both the need to be doted on and to also be left alone for a long, long time. “Get dressed. I’ll be in the kitchen.” With that, Simon left you to your own devices in the bedroom.

You got up out of bed, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of your beaten cunt being squeezed between your legs. You hobbled to the dresser, resuming your original task. Underwear. Grabbing a random pair, along with pajama shorts and a shirt, you found yourself comfortable and ready for the night, making sure to slide on your robe so you didn’t get chilly.

The evening progressed. You sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating your dinner while Simon sat on the couch behind you, running his fingers through your hair, lazily braiding your locks as a movie played on the television. Your lovely fiancé also made sure you were planted on the softest, fluffiest pillow he could find. When you were finished, he made you sit on the couch while he cleaned up, coming back just to delicately massage your feet. It was tender, romantic, thoughtful. Simon wasn’t a very… physically affectionate partner, so these moments when he just wanted to be with you, to touch you, well, you really tried to get as much as you could.

When he was finished, his hands slid up your smooth calves towards your thighs, beckoning you to cuddle closer - to which you did. You hopped across the couch where the back of your legs were draped over his thighs, nestling your body in close to his, letting him wrap his large arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Oh, you couldn’t even put into words how peaceful being wrapped up in his arms made you feel. Warm, secure, safe. His other hand sat on your thigh, his veins and tendons prominent, titillating, twisting around his forearms, making the black ink of his tattoo dance. What was even hotter was seeing these veins and tendons flex and and tighten as his hands gripped the sheets or headboard as he fucked you to nirvana, until nothing but prayers and begging for God spilled and tumbled from your mouth in an indistinguishable slur.

“Why so nice tonight?” You asked him in a quiet voice, looking up at him while resting your head against his chest.

Without hesitation, he looked down at you. “Do I need a reason?” Your stomach fluttered, heat spreading to your face. You shook your head. “You’ve been stressed and working late this week. Least I could do,” he explained regardless and shrugged, rubbing the fresh stubble on his jaw.

Simon’s been back for a month, and you’ve been so busy you feel like you’ve barely seen him. He gets up extremely early to see you before work, make you breakfast and coffee, and prepare your lunch. All day he makes sure the house is clean and chores are done, opting to even overhaul the landscaping in the front yard - something you’ve been too busy to do. At night, he always waits for you to come home, dinner ready if you haven’t eaten. He makes sure you’re showered and taken care of before starting the whole routine again in the morning. You didn’t necessarily feel less than or that you’re lacking in the relationship, but it was infuriating not being able to take care of your fiancé while he has worked tirelessly to keep the world from blowing up.

But that wasn’t wholly true, was it? Sure, you felt that way, having openly admitted your insecurities to him, but Simon has always been genuine and adamant in letting you know that you’re doing so much more when you don’t have to. While he loves that you’re on your corporate grind, he’s made it clear that if you told him you never wanted to lift your hand again, you wouldn’t. Of course, with weeks, and honestly, months like these, you get closer and closer to considering to take him up on his offer. Then you could be that sweet, doting housewife, eager for her husband to come home from war.

“So,” you started, grabbing his attention and warm gaze, “is it later yet?”

#ouch my puthy!#cod mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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