Reader Is Poc - Blog Posts

breaking simon into calling you mommy.

no fucking way, princess. he laughs and shakes his head like you just told him the funniest joke on Earth. no chance, never.

simon can't even believe you would ask him such a thing. him call you mommy? have you gone mad? why in the world would he ever do that? simon had a hard enough time submitting to you as is. now you throw this into play? you must want him to tie you up and show you who runs shit around here. (it's you.)

c'mon, babyyy. you lament, leaning in and letting your dark brown nipples rub against his. up and down, still wet from simon sucking on them earlier. just one time, c'mon. say it.

simon was coming up on his third nut in the last thirty minutes, and he was starting to lose himself. your hips were moving the same pace they were when you started, maybe faster since your pussy was creaming like a faucet. no, no..im not gonna-- fuck me.. not gonna say it.

he's not. nothing can crack that wall down. he won't. his mind is made up. you clench around him in retaliation, but the tightness adds to his overstimulating pleasure and makes him drop his hands to the sheets, gripping them with a force that would have stopped you in your tracks, must be why he moved.

fuck, mm-mommy. it comes out completely unplanned, unrecognized and unintentionally. simon can't look you in the eye, just gripping your hips again and watching you grind back and forth just a bit.

what's that, si? he shakes his head, closing his eyes and throwing his his head against the headboard. simon bites his lip and whimpers, simon riley, the 6 foot 200 something pound tank of a man whimpers at the feeling of your pussy gripping him.

mommy. i said-- i called you mommy. he reiterates, moving you up and down on his cock and watching it like it would disappear if he looked away. fuck you. fucking hate you-- fuck! simon's cum started spurting up into you and he was seeing white. his balls felt like they were cramping, tightening and releasing too quickly, too harshly, he swears for a second he's gonna pass out.

before you can quip, his fingers are wrapped around your throat and squeezing. not a word. he damn near whines. he's trying to sound all manly and deep voiced, you can tell, but his voice nearly cracked at how tight you are around him, and how fucking sensitive he is. not a fucking word, i swear.

maybe not now, but this will definitely be brought back up (especially when he starts to get a thing for fucking you while you're knocked up.)

Okay here’s a little early morning (who tf am I kidding I’ve been awake since 3:30 today) writing of a concept I’ve been thinking of…

— — — — — —

The halls were quiet. Not a single sound left the confines of the doors sealed shut with extra security. It smelled of nothing in particular. No scent of rubbing alcohol, food, cleaning products, nothing rancid either. Halls repeating one after another, it’s a little unsettling, but he makes it to one room. He slides the keycard into the reader and waits for it to unlock before taking it out.

The first door opens with a light noise, then the second and the third. A booth being the only thing separating the room. The glass shatterproof. Three holes are carved into the middle of it to allow conversations between the two. Behind the glass sat a woman. Hair dark and long as ever, her skin pale as it hasn’t been hit by UV rays, just the artificial light from the bulbs in the room. She looks worn out, her trays of food sat at the exchange chute. She probably only took a few bites of it before she abandoned it. She looks up at him. Eyes sunken in, face a bit hollow, and hair tucked behind her ears.

He sat down at the booth.

“May I help you, dove?” Her voice smoothed over the nickname with indifference. She stood up from her spot on the floor and made her way to the chair they so kindly provided for her.

“There’s been a recent attack (blah blah blah)” (I haven’t thought about what to really write just yet)

“Mhm. So you came here because they share attack patterns similar to mine?”

He stays quiet.

“Go on, it’s not kind to keep a lady waiting, you know.”

“(Insert date and place of attacks and more info)”

“Seems like they’re pretty young or inexperienced. This usually happens after someone’s been sent on their first mission. It’s either to prove themselves worthy to be accepted into a space, or they just recently started hunting on their own.”

“You see ghouls don’t have the privilege to live life with family members. They either die when you’re really young or you never meet them. Some are lucky enough to have loved their whole life and watch their families grow for generations.”

“What I’m trying to say is that they probably lost their care giver. The one that hunts and puts food on the table so in place they’re stepping up. They’re being messy and aren’t thinking about their tracks. They’re desperate. It’s quite easy to figure this out, you look like a smart guy. Humor me, why did you come here for my help?”

— — — — — —

This was written when I was half asleep, there’s bound to be errors n shit. I apologize for that 😭 but that’s the concept. I’ll refine it when I have the time but yeah as of right now this is it. Character has been undecided, I’m thinking about one of the boys in the Quinx squad. But yeah that’s all :p oh also reader is supposed to be a foreigner, not Japanese.