They say not to feed wild animals. 

It makes them grow soft, lazy. Alters their behaviour. Takes an animal previously capable of finding its own food dependent on humans for sustenance. Makes them lose their natural fear of humans and nearly always results in an increase in human-wildlife conflicts as they start to seek out people. It’s a known fact. You can’t go to a park without seeing it plastered on posters in the bathroom and on the sides of the vending machines under the gazebos where you purchase your post-hike iced tea and veggie roll to eat on a nearby bench. 

thinking about simon who’s so smitten with you. he’s the type to pick you up and sit you on the counter, his cheek nuzzling your chest, before he rumbles, “love you, sunshine. love you so much.”

you play with his hair, pushing it back, before bending down to give his forehead a kiss. “i love you too, you clingy baby.”

simon’s nose scrunches, giving you a playful glare. you laugh, kissing him again because, well, you’re just as clingy.

he’s the type to pull you flushed to his body when you two are cuddling underneath the sheets, making sure your back and ass are pressed flat to his front. he noses along your ear and murmurs, “y’r all i ever wanted, sweetheart. the one good thing in my life.”

he drops his hand flat on your belly, dimpling your skin and fat, and breaths you in. you sleep that way—snuggling with him, your skin buzzed with warmth.

he’s the type to be vocal and touchy because he can’t fathom how it is that everything in his life found their stability in you. he owes you everything, yes, but he hopes that for now his love is enough.

(it is more than enough.)

I'm trying to prove a point to my brain: Reblog if you think fanfiction does not need sex to be good.

There is a trend I’ve noticed that smut fics tend to be much more popular than anything else and honestly I just want to have something to look at to remind myself and that writing doesn’t have to have sex to be worth putting out into the community.

the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were. 

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved. 

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

simon wanting you to cum on his cock one more time

cw: penis in vagina sex

“where do you think you’re going?” simon snaps out as he grips your hips to bring you back down on his cock, as you try to run away from the sensation of becoming overstimulated. he’s holding you so damn tight, you’re sure you’ll have bruises later on.

you whine and claw at his chest as you roll your hips. “simon, baby, please!” the delicious drag of his cock in your wet cunt is starting to become too much. you don’t stop though, you’re just as bad as simon is. you just keep rocking your hips as he fucks up into you.

“just give me one more, lovie, please,” simon begs as he flips you onto your back, before pressing his cock back into your dripping hole.

you let out out a soft cry of pleasure with every snap of simon’s hips. nothing pleases your man more than having you cum on his cock as many times as you can.

“i already gave you two, simon,” you whine, sounding a little breathless as you tighten your legs around him. you watch as his blissed out expression morphs into a look that says i really don’t give a fuck.

“don’t care, darling,” simon hisses as he continues to drill into you. he smirks at the wail you let out when he pulls out then slams back in.

“f–fuck!” you choke out, with tears in your eyes, as you hold on for dear life. he’s pounding you into the mattress, pulling sweet noises from that pretty mouth of yours. “you’re such a greedy bastard!”

simon just laughs, sounding mean as hell. he’s fucking you so good, you can’t even be mad at him. the thoughts are slowly leaving your brain anyway. he’s already fucked you stupid twice and he’s aiming for a third time. he doesn’t want to hear anything but your cries as he fucks you into oblivion.

Injuries

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader

Word Count: 309

Warnings: simon being fussy and injured, riley being adorable, fluff basically

Summary: Simon doesn't like being injured, but you're always there for him.

Simon never got injured. He was skilled. Careful. Smart. 

At least he always said he was.

Simon came home from his latest mission with a broken arm, grumbling an angry, “Bullshit, sendin’ me on leave.”

Of course, you took care of him. You never left his side, helped him with everything. He was always so angry, refusing your help until you pushed and pushed. 

Currently, he sits on the couch, watching a football game as you hold up a fork full of pasta to his mouth. He shakes his head at first, but eventually accepts after you get a bit of sauce on his cheek.

“Can fee’ myself, ya know?”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, holding up the fork again, tapping it against his lips. “Open.”

He groans. “Tired of bein’ babied.”

“Too bad, honey,” you take a bit for yourself. “I’m just tryna help you.”

“I know you are,” he leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Yer special. But can’t even do anythin’ by myself righ’ now. Can’t even ge’ my socks on.” 

“How about we go for a walk? With Ry?” you call out to the German Shepherd. “Riley!”

She comes padding down the stairs, barking. In a minute, you have a leash on her, not that she needed one, best trained dog in the world.

You walk back over to Simon, carrying his boots. You kneel in front of him, putting on his shoes. 

“Lovie, a’ much a’ I love the view, ya gotta get up befo’ I-” 

“Shut up,” you roll  your eyes, slipping on his shoes. “Come on.”

Grabbing Riley, the three of you step outside, walking down the street. Simon holds your hand with his good one while you hold Riley’s leash with your other. “Love you.”

“Ditto.”

“Lovie?”

“Mhm?”

“You’re the best. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“I bet.”

Simon picked your engagement ring himself. He went to the jeweller, saw the ring, and immediately thought of you. He loves it. He’s always kissing your left hand. He’s so in love with you, it aches. 

When the two of you finally get married, he never stops looking at his ring. It’s a plain thick silver band, but he loves it so much. He’s just so afraid he’ll lose it. 

Instead, he wears the ring on his dog tag chain and gets your initial tattooed on him. The day he comes home from deployment, at first, you don’t notice anything different but his facial hair. Then, when you ask him to get you a fork at dinner, you gasp, “What’s that?”

“What?” he raises a brow.

You grab his hand, pointing to the tattoo. “What? Where’s your ring? What’s this?”

“Here,” he tugs at the chain around his neck. “And ‘is is jus’ to show people ’m married.”

“It’s permanent!”

“Is our marriage no’ supposed to be?” 

“But-”

“Are ya tryin’ to leave me, lovie?”

“No…it’s just…permanent…”

“Good. You’re my Mrs. ‘hat’s permanent too.”

You giggle. “Fine. I’m getting one too.”

“Like ‘ell you are. ‘M not letting you ruin that perfect skin.”

“But-”

“Lovie,” he warns. “No means no. I know how much you love me and you hate needles.” 

“Okay…”

“You could spread your legs to prove it though.”

“SIMON!”

Fanfiction is becoming people’s primary form of entertainment right now because most media right now is so cheap, bland, recycled, and sponsored by people who love money more than the source material. Fanfiction is written for free by people who genuinely love what they’re writing about. That’s why it’s better. That’s why it’s more satisfying. Fanfiction is a home-cooked meal made for yourself and for your friends. Media today is junky fast food spoiled by too much grease and the knowledge that the people producing it are being criminally mistreated and underpaid. 

simon loves to see you wearing his shirts, as underneath there is nothing but a pair of comfortable panties in which you walk around the house, doing various chores and minding your own business, not noticing how he loops after you like a puppy.

the mere sight warms him from the inside, his brown eyes heats like black tea brewing in a mug as he watches you cook breakfast, the black fabric of his plain t shirt looks unbearably cozy and seductive on you, as simon's calloused hands leave the mug and reach out to touch you wherever they can, to put his hands under the fabric and stroke the naked flesh.

he's turning needy, obsessed with you in any way possible — constantly sticking to you and touching you, thin pale lips pressing into your jaw and neck with passionate, small kisses, hands stroking and kneading you everywhere they can, whether it's your plush asscheeks, rounded breasts or waist, as he presses against you from the back with all his heavy weight.

the floorboards creak under his weight, his knees burning n his joints aching from the weight of his muscles being pressed against the hardwood.

“baby,” his voice comes out low, but not low with its usual rasp and usual deep tone, its whispery and whiney. you can see the pout in his lips from where you sit at the edge of his bed, the slump of his broad shoulders, he looks so pathetically desperate.

“what is it, si? hm?” you cock your head at him, the gloss of your lips shining under the dim bedroom lights as they tug into a sweet unknowing smile.

he sighs, eyes slipping downward n he fidgets with his fingers softly fighting to come up with words. simon can feel his cheeks burn in a blush, embarrassment trickling into his bloodstream.

“give me something, anything,” he laughs, voice cracking under the need that stirs low in his stomach. “please, i need you.”

you nod slowly as if processing his sweet words, yet you know exactly what he deserves. and he’s not going to like it very much, but what comes easy? without pain there’s no pleasure.

“come here then, love.” you grin, eyes never leaving the big hunky man kneeling at the floor.

he’s a good boy, palms pressing against the wood as he crawls his way to you slowly. his knees drag the floor, neck arching to peer up at you as he continues his journey forward.

you can see the tendons in his neck stretch and flex, and with the way his lashes flutter you can’t help the excitement that fills your belly and soaks the cotton of your panties.

“right there’s perfect, honey,” n on command simon comes to a stop a couple feet in front of you, settling back on the heels of his feet as he watches you impatiently.

“unbuckle your belt.” he follows your instructions, hands pulling and tugging until he can feel the material hugging his hips untighten. “show me yourself.”

his jaw ticks as if he was shy, but course he listens and pulls his jeans under his ass letting his cock fall free and brush against the pretty blonde trail that lines under his bellybutton.

“being so good for me today,” you giggle softly letting the words hang in the air between the two of you. “touch yourself, simon.”

his smile from the sweet praise falls, brows falling into a deep furrow that wrinkles the skin between em. “w-what? no, no-”

“do it.” you warn slicing through his voice, the soft of your voice turning stern as your lips scowl ever so slightly.

his face reads nothing but disappointment but he’s a good boy n he’s going to listen no matter what, even if the night took a terrifically depressing turn of events for him.

his hand wraps around the length of himself slowly, shoulders dropping in a deep breath as his begins to stroke his cock slowly. he can’t help the way his skin warms under your eyes, this is deeply embarrassing, yet he complies and continues.

his free hand balls up against his thigh, eyes fluttering as he catches your gaze within his. his eyes flicker across your face, the pretty red of your lips, the lively look in your pretty eyes and its sad how he can already feel the twist of his stomach.

his stomach collapses, chest rumbling as a soft groan purrs off his lips. his head drops back slowly, eyes rolling into the back of his head. he’s been pent up all day and the feel of finally being able to get off has him folding.

you watch his hand speed up, pretty pearls of precum beading up at the angry red tip of his pretty cock. you unbutton your shirt slowly, the fat of your breasts concealed under the thin lace of your bra.

“look at me, simon.” you whisper and he complies, head falling forward wide eyes scanning down the tanned skin of your supple tits and the smooth skin of your belly.

his lips curl as he chokes out a sweet whimper that hits your ears and tickles in your lower stomach. “fu-huck… you look so beautiful.” his mind is all over the place, picturing and painting pictures that have his balls drawing up with an impending release.

“goddamnit, please, baby. help me,” his pretty begging makes you laugh softly, you can tell how close he’s getting, hand moving quickly against himself, from tip to base with soft squelches that follow his rapid hand.

you pull your bra under your tits, letting them spill out for his greedy eyes before you set your perfectly polished foot along the length of his flexing thigh. his fingers wrap around your ankle before you can feel his nails pierce through the skin, leaving small crescents in their wake.

“i’m so close, c’mon,” his words come out in a deep growl before they end in a pitch that heightens into a sweet whine. “let me cum, mama, please.”

you can’t say no to whiney begging that leaves his bitten lips, eyes darkening as you peer down into his flooding eyes, tears lining his waterline. “go on, baby, you gonna cum for me?” ⊹˚ ₊‧ 𝜗𝜚

think sum1 needs help… ✌️

Simon Riley x DogSitter! Reader

Next ->

After Riley's injury on a mission, she can no longer be a part of the task force. Simon reluctantly starts looking for a dog-sitter to watch her while he's away for work, and that's when you show up on his doorstep.

A/n no warnings, just reader being ditsy. Based her personality off of Daphne Moon from "Frasier." Enjoy! (PS next chapter of IDNY and the solo fic for Ghost hurt/comfort are on the way!)

Simon Riley would have laughed if anyone had suggested that he needed a dog-sitter.

Riley, his eighty-pound German Shepherd and only family (outside of the 141, of course), went with him everywhere. Grocery store? There she was, K-9 vest on to avoid getting the stink eye from trouble-stirring strangers. Missions? She was there, working alongside Simon, and when she couldn't join, she was safe and tucked away on the animal unit back on base. At the small, one-story unit he called home? You'd better believe she's sitting on the couch next to him as he watches the telly, trying not to succumb to his daily nap. He never considered having a dog-walker care for her, since there was hardly a second where she wasn't walking right there with him.

But of course, as expected - life threw him a curveball.

cat hybrid!simon as the most impudent hybrid possible, constantly sleeping sprawled out on a soft couch, black tail hanging from the cushions to the floor, his plain shirt crumbled up, exposing his slightly pudgy stomach and dark happy trail that dissappears beneath his sweats.

he eats and sleeps just as well, so much so that you have to cook almost full course meals, as well as endure simon's heavy body, pressing you either to the cushions of the sofa or the bed, purring aloud as his tail curls around your leg.

simon pokes his face under your arm for you to scratch him behind his ear or under the chin, constantly follows you around the apartment if you go a little further than the living room, sticks to your back with his heavy arms around your waist, burying himself in the back of your neck with loud purrs, nibbling occasionally with slurred statement — “i won' to sleep, come on„

but simon is much more active at night, so much so that you have to stay alert.