itsvicreads

[itsvicreads]

Snapped

Alright yall here it is! This is based off of this idea. So many of you wanted me to expand so I made a short fic of it. This is just under 2k words. Happy Sinful Sunday, my loves!

Warnings: Unprotected P in V, neck grabbing, rough sex, Matt's a little mean.

The grip Matthew Murdock had on his control was rock solid. It had to be when he believed he had the devil in him. He kept that side of him locked away in chains, only to be released on the unsuspecting scum of Hell's Kitchen. 

And lately, you.

You were an anomaly to Matt. You had come into his life and accepted him completely, devil and all. You offered up your heart, soul, and body in return and Matt had never been happier. His life was finally looking up. 

But that didn't mean he didn't still have bad days.

It had been a week from hell for Matt and it seemed like you weren't making things any easier. You seemed to tease him at every turn, knowing Matt was too busy to indulge in the sweet release you dangled in front of him. 

Saturday night he finally had enough. He was getting ready for his nightly patrol, everything but his mask on when you walked out of the bedroom in nothing but one of his button down shirts. And if that wasn't enough, you took one look at him and crossed your arms, popping your hip out. 

"Matt, are you seriously going out tonight?" 

That ironclad control of his… snapped.

Prowling forward, he backed you up until your back hit the wall, his hand wrapping around your throat. He pressed his fingers under the hinge of your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. He took a deep, low breath and rumbled quietly at the scent of you. No trace of fear, just arousal. He skimmed his nose up the side of your cheek before speaking into your ear.

"You are walking a very fine line, sweetheart. Be careful you don't overstep." He heard the uptick in your heartbeat and smirked. "Choose your next words very carefully."

"I'm just worried about you, Matt. You've had a long week and you promised me you'd take a break today and you haven't."

Matt instantly felt a little bad about snapping at you but your body language told him you honestly didn't mind. Then he remembered the ways you've been teasing him all week.

"A long week, huh? And you wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

You had the decency to look sheepish at his comment.

"I can't help it if you're just irresistible when you're riled up. Besides, I kept hoping you'd take the bait and take a break from everything. I've missed you this week." You admitted quietly. 

"Oh, now you're being demure. You weren't so sweet when you were helping to rile me up." 

"Matt, please…"

"Please what, sweetheart? Use your words." He cooed condescendingly. You narrowed your eyes at his tone.

"And if I don't?"

"Then I will tie you to the bed, put a vibrator in your pussy, and leave you there all night." He threatened making your heart lurch. You knew he meant every word and so you swallowed your pride and asked him for what you wanted.

"Please fuck me, Matt. I need it, I need you. I've missed you so much this week-" Matt's mouth descended onto yours, effectively shutting you up. He kissed you hard, all teeth and tongue. One hand stayed around your throat while the other grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. Then, he pressed his entire body into yours, making you moan into his mouth.

"Keep your hands here." Matt commanded before letting go of your wrists in favor of trailing his hand down your body. You did as he said, keeping your hands above your head. Slowly, Matt kissed his way down your jaw and neck before dropping to his knees in front of you. He pushed up the shirt you were wearing to nuzzle at your stomach and nipped at your hip bone when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear.

"Had plans, did you?" He asked. You bit your lip.

"Let's just say I was determined to get you to take a break." You admitted breathlessly. Matt hummed and kissed right above your clit, causing your breath to hitch.

"Mission accomplished, I suppose." He murmured. Before you could say anything else, Matt was pulling a leg over his shoulder and diving into your cunt. You moaned loudly as he licked a stripe up your cunt and it took everything in you to keep your hands in place. 

"Good girl. Keep those hands up." Matt broke away long enough to say before diving back in. He worked you over quickly but before you could cum, he pulled away. You whined, your body lurching at the sudden loss of stimulation. 

"Don't whine. I still remember the way you've teased me all week. The only way you're cumming tonight is on my cock and when I say so. Understand?" Matt tsked.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl. Now go lay down on the bed and spread those legs for me. Keep the shirt on." You raised an eyebrow but did as he said. It took a minute before he followed you but when he entered the room, he was naked. His movements were still very much a prowl and as he made his way to the end of the bed, he towered over you. Slowly, he crawled over you, settling in between your legs.

He leaned down and kissed you languidly, like he had all the time in the world. You could feel his dick caught between the two of you, its length hard and leaking. He ground himself against you as he kissed you, and you whimpered into his mouth. You were unsure if you were allowed to touch him so you kept your hands to yourself, gripping the sheets in your fists.

"You can touch me, sweetheart." You sighed in relief and you brought your hands up, burying them into his hair. Matt shifted his hips and then he was grinding his dick against your pussy. You both moaned at the feeling and Matt quickly lined himself up and sunk in. You cried out at the sudden intrusion and Matt cursed at the way your walls seemed to clamp down on him. 

"You okay, sweetheart? You feel so damn good." Matt panted. You whimpered and nodded.

"Please, fuck. Need you to move, baby." Matt groaned and obliged, moving his hips in a rough rhythm. He fucked you hard, one hand on your hip and the other holding himself up. With every snap of his hips, you seemed to move up the bed until you were practically crushed against the headboard. Matt kissed you through it, his lips scorching their way across your lips, jaw, and throat. 

It didn't take long for you to approach your high, your previous ruined orgasm making it easy for Matt to wind you up again. 

"Beg me for it, sweetheart. Beg me to make you cum." Matt slowed to a grind, giving you just enough to drive you higher but not enough to get you there. You couldn't help but to whine.

"Matt, please, please. I've been good for you, I've done as you asked. Please let me cum. Please." Matt smirked, the look almost feral, and slid his hand from your hip to thumb at your clit as he picked back up the pace. 

"Come on, sweetheart, cum for me. Let me feel it." You cried out as you came, body locking up around Matt. He worked you through it, gritting his teeth to stave off his own orgasm. 

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it. Doing so good for me." When you finally came down from your high, Matt pulled out of you and flipped you over. You yelped at the sudden change and Matt chuckled.

"Hope you didn't think I was done with you." Matt growled as he positioned you on your hands and knees. He smoothed a hand up your spine before burying his hand in your hair and pulling, forcing you to arch your back.

"Good girl…" Matt murmured before sinking back into your heat. He set another brutal pace, fucking you hard and fast. You took it willingly, moaning and writhing beneath him. 

"Matt- God- fucking me so good. Missed you, missed this." You babble, mind gone due to the way Matt was fucking every thought out of you. Above you, Matt smirked and angled his hips so he hit your G spot with every thrust, effectively rendering you beyond words. You could do nothing but moan and whimper beneath him. Matt moaned above you, the feeling of you clenching around him almost too much.

"That's my good girl. Taking everything I give you. You're gonna make cum, baby. Are you gonna take it? Gonna let me fill you up?" 

"Yes, Matt, yes! Fuck, please! Let me feel it." Never one to take without giving, Matt slipped one hand beneath you and began thumbing at your clit again. You screamed as it shoved you suddenly over the edge. Matt groaned and came as well, buried deep within you. He slid out of you, hissing at the oversensitivity, and laid down beside you. You both just lay there panting. You felt Matt shift and then his hand was grasping one of yours.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" You asked, completely bewildered.

"For being so busy this week. I really have been neglecting you and that's-"

"Matt, be quiet. You have nothing to apologize for. You haven't been neglecting me. You're busy. I get that. There's gonna be times like this no matter what you do and I'm not going to leave you just because you have a lot going on." You told him, squeezing his hand and rolling to face him. Matt's eyes were wide and darting around, like he couldn't quite believe you really weren't going to leave him. So you tugged on his hand and pulled him in so he was laying with his head on your chest.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Murdock. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

At that, Matt couldn't help but chuckle. He positioned himself so his ear was right above your heart, listening to it pound away, proof you were alive and with him.

"I think I'd like that." He would have to get up eventually, would have to go out. But for now, cradled in your embrace, he hurt a little less and that was all that mattered to him.

[itsvicreads]

ミi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!

part one | part two

🍓 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, size kink, virgin!reader, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, some mild second-hand embarrassment perhaps, sex toys, edging, failed masturbation attempts, ghost takes your virginity and also maybe ruins you for literally anybody else ever again

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

The ceiling over your head is drab grey and water-stained, the old paint peeling away in strips. It’s an ugly sight, but you barely see it; you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

The sheets beneath you are uncomfortably damp with your sweat, but you don’t have the energy to roll over just yet. You feel hot and itchy with frustration, and you scowl up at the ceiling above you as your fingers curl into fists. But even though you feel like laying in your now grubby-bedding for the rest of the evening, you can’t let yourself wallow. There’s going to be a knock on your door any minute, and this is not a position you want to be found in.

With an irritable groan, you haul yourself off the bed and to your feet. Your muscles ache and you feel too warm, but you reach for your clothes anyway. The worn cotton of your shirt feels scratchy against your skin, but maybe that’s just because you’re still over-sensitive and irritable.

You can never quite bear to look at the aftermath of what you’d been doing, so you avert your eyes as you gather up the bright silicone and plastic devices littering your mattress. It’s embarrassing now that the adrenaline has worn off and disappointment is beginning to set in, so you end up gathering them all up more roughly than necessary.

The term ‘toy’ seems incongruous to you. It sounds too childish, too immature. It makes you sound like a stupid kid, as though you aren’t a young adult past twenty fumbling your way through sexual self-exploration. It’s embarrassing, and much more frustrating than you ever would have predicted – despite all of your clumsy, desperate attempts at pleasuring yourself, you’ve never quite managed to reach that peak of pleasure you’ve heard other people talking about.

You grumble quietly to yourself as you try to wipe away the sticky lube that’s still coating your thighs. Your muscles are a little achy from all the tensing you’d been doing trying to come with that stupid vibrator, not even accompanied by the satisfaction you had been hoping for.

It’s not as though you’ve never gotten the opportunity to experiment with others; you’re not unforgivably ugly, you don’t think you have a bad personality, and for the past few years you’ve been surrounded by military men that certainly aren’t known for being picky. And it certainly isn’t like you haven’t received your fair share of offers. 

It just never seemed right. You’re not overly concerned about ‘saving’ your virginity or anything like that; it’s just that putting yourself into such a vulnerable position is scary. You’re aware of the irony, of course, that you’d trust many of these people with saving your ass from catching a bullet in the field, but allowing someone to see you so intimately feels like a step too far.

You’re still sweaty and flustered and naked when a knock sounds from your door, and you freeze. The doorknob turns, but doesn’t open; in that moment, you’re deliriously grateful that you had turned the lock – it’s something that you’ve forgotten to do on far too many occasions.

“Lass, you in there?” Oh god, it’s Soap. 

Cursing quietly to yourself, you jolt into action. Your pants are crumpled at the bottom of your bed where you had shed them, and you hurriedly gather them up and struggle your way back into them.

“Gimme a minute!” You yell, praying he doesn’t notice the somewhat frantic edge to your voice.

You stagger slightly as you worm your way into your pants, and then lunge to grab the stupid dildo you’d just been trying to use. You feel your skin prickle with humiliation as you try to force the stupidly large silicone cock into your already full underwear drawer, jamming it shut roughly to hide it from sight. You don’t want to even imagine what Soap might have to say if he were to see what you had been doing; you think you might have to go full deserter mode and abscond into the wilderness.

“Did ye forget about drinks?” Soap’s drawl carries through the thickness of the door. He doesn’t sound even slightly put out – if anything, he sounds a little amused.

You pause, close your eyes, sigh. Fuck. You had not, in fact, forgotten about drinks, you just thought you had more time.

“No, I– just a minute!” You yell back, shoving your shoes on and trying to fix your hair.

You had completely lost track of time, and now you don’t even have time to rinse your sweat-damp skin off – you’re going to have to sit through drinks with the squad all grimy, like a physical reminder of what you had been up to for the last two hours.

When you finally unlock the door and wrench it open, Soap is standing on the other side tapping a staccato rhythm on his thighs with his open palms. He’s dressed casually in just blue jeans and a black muscle shirt, and he gives you a look of semi-disbelief.

“What the hell were you—”

“Gym.” You interrupt, landing on the only explanation you can think of for your sweaty skin and messy hair.

Soap blinks, but apparently decides it’s not worth the effort to continue that line of conversation. He just shrugs, then turns and starts making his way down the hall, slowing his pace for you to catch up.

You exhale; Soap can be like a bloodhound when he suspects there’s gossip to be had, and you’re relieved to have dodged a round of his relentless questioning. You suppose he can be surprisingly tactful sometimes, and he knows you well enough not to press you. Or, perhaps it’s because you come across as such a non-sexual being that  it doesn’t even occur to him that there may be another explanation.

There’s an unofficial tradition that when the squad is on base, everyone gathers in the sparsely decorated recreation room for drinks and card games on Thursday evenings. It usually makes for an enjoyable night; Gaz and Soap can always be trusted to supply whatever bottles of alcohol they’ve managed to get their grubby little hands on, and it’s always amusing to watch Captain Price get increasingly more irate as Soap pretends not to understand the rules of whatever card game they’re playing. The whole illicitness of having contraband on base only makes the whole thing more exciting; the CO’s on base often turn a blind eye to the activity, so long as it’s kept under control.

But tonight, you’re distracted.

The others had offered a bit of good-natured ribbing when you and Soap had turned up late, but before long you’re all settled in a loose circle on the poorly-stuffed couches in the corner of the room. Gaz has already unstoppered a bottle of bourbon, and is attempting to convince a visibly unimpressed Price to play a game of Kings with them. You curl up on one of the worn-out couches opposite them, watching with a small if slightly stiff smile.

The atmosphere is relaxed and pleasant, almost enough to make you forget about the irritating buzz of unfulfilled arousal under your skin. You shift, trying to keep your movements small, subtle, to avoid the notice of your team. Your denim jeans are nowhere near as comfortable as usual, and you wonder briefly if you should have simply worn your cargo pants just to avoid the harsh friction of the denim.

You sit there feeling… unmoored. You fidget, drink your smooth bourbon in sips in an attempt to avoid wincing, and try not to look as obviously out of place as you feel. It’s been like this, recently. Joining the task force has been an accomplishment for you, a source of immense pride – you’re the youngest member (just narrowly beating Gaz for the title) and a woman to boot, and though the squad has never treated you any differently it’s hard to kick the belief that you have something to prove. 

You engage in conversations the best you can, but you’re distracted and you know it must be obvious. Your preoccupation gets you a couple of furrowed brows and glances, but there seems to be an unspoken agreement to give you some space.

You don’t even realise the extent of your distraction until a big body settles down on the loveseat next to you, and you jolt. True to his name, Ghost had appeared near silently, escaping your notice until he lowers himself down to sit next to you.

And damn, you forget how big he is sometimes. It’s an average sized loveseat, but the lieutenant takes up over half of it. He’s obviously being mindful not to consciously crush you, but he’s not being overly cautious when it comes to avoiding touching you. He’s dressed unusually casually, and his thick, muscled thigh is wrapped in blue denim as it presses carelessly against yours. 

“You alright?” He asks, his voice low and smooth as he nudges your knee with one of his big knuckles.

You haven’t been a member of the task force for long, but you would know Simon Riley by his hands alone, by the earthy salt-spice in your nose as he leans a little closer to peer at your face. You tilt your head up, unable to stop the small reflexive smile that breaks over your face at the sight of him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, hurriedly straightening up where you’re sitting. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

His sudden proximity isn’t doing your current state any favours, and you take a quick sip of your drink in an effort to collect yourself. It’s taking a herculean effort not to stare at the way his biceps are bulging against the straining material of his black cotton t-shirt.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ghost asks as he stretches out his legs with a tired groan. The sound is gruff and gravelly, and you feel blood rush uncomfortably to your cheeks. 

“Nothing.” You say quickly.

He doesn’t believe you, that much is obvious, but Ghost never pushes and he rarely speaks more than he has to. He just gives you a glance, brief and knowing and far more penetrating than it should be, before turning his head back so he can watch the boys playing their card game. He’s holding a crystal tumbler filled with dark amber liquid, but he hasn’t yet pulled his mask up to drink from it.

Your eyes drop to the thick, pale scars that mar the backs of his hands. You trace the path of the scar tissue, eyes lingering around the thick knuckles and broad palms, the way that he holds the glass so casually confidently. He’s got nice hands, probably made all the more attractive by the fact that you hardly ever get to see them. Seeing Ghost without his usual long sleeves and gloves makes you feel like a Victorian pervert snatching stolen glances at a passing lady’s ankles.

A quiet snicker causes your eyes to dart back to his face, and you’re mortified to find that he’s caught you staring.

“What’s got you in such a mood?” He asks. Even through the mask you can tell that he’s smirking, though it doesn’t feel as though he’s making fun of you.

“Just one of those days, I guess.” You say without meeting his eyes.

It’s an evasion at best, but Ghost nods ponderously as though he’s giving this great thought. His stare is penetrating, those big brown eyes watching you as though he can see right through you. Maybe he can. You try not to get too caught up staring at his pale eyelashes, darkened by smears of eyeblack.

“Did something happen?” He asks. The question is casual enough, asked as he lazily swirls his whiskey around in his glass, but his gaze is sharp and assessing.

“No.” You sigh, finally looking properly at him.

It’s a little frustrating, but the squad has been like this with you from the start – protective. Your whole military career has consisted of you veritably clawing your way up through the ranks, and you’ve been surrounded by coarse, gruff men that have underestimated you all your life. 141 is different – they don’t baby you, but the way they treat you is unmistakably softer than how they typically treat each other. The concern can be touching, if a little tiring sometimes.

And maybe it’s because he’s your lieutenant, but Ghost’s attention has always been just this side of overwhelming. It feels like you’re pinned beneath his dark eyes, his gaze somehow sharpened as he watches you from beneath his more casual balaclava, the skull pattern printed on his jaw adding another layer of intimidation. But his shoulders are relaxed as he sits next to you on the small couch, settling the weight of his attention over you like a blanket.

You’ve always respected him, admired him. How could you not? He’s practically a living legend, his reputation larger than life, and he’s scary as fuck. But he’s also softer than you had expected, gentle when he needs to be. He still rides you hard in training, pushing you to your limits and taking no quarter, but you can’t begrudge that. Not when you know he’s working to keep you alive. Perhaps that’s how the attraction had first bloomed; once it started, it was hard to stifle.

Ghost hooks one finger into his balaclava and pulls it up just high enough to expose his mouth, and he presses his glass to his lips to take a sip of his drink. You struggle not to stare like a moron, but he makes it so difficult. His lips are full and pink, and there’s a rugged scar bisecting his top lip. His stubble is dark blond and short, and it doesn’t hide the various scars and marks that decorate his strong jawline. 

You almost jolt when he pulls the mask back down, hurriedly averting your eyes and forcing yourself to look out across the room. It’s not just the 141 that’s decided to take up in the rec room this evening; there are soldiers from other units littered all around the room, laughing and joking, playing lazy games of pool on the table in the corner and smoking. The smoke alarm has been jimmied off the ceiling and the window is open, and even Price is turning a temporary blind eye to the blatant disregard for regulations in favour of puffing on one of his cigars. 

Ghost shifts on the worn-out fabric of the couch, and lays an arm over the back of the headrest behind you. It’s a casual, thoughtless movement, but it ends up pushing his body slightly closer to you in a way that makes you feel as though you’re about to catch fire.

You cross your legs, but the seam of your jeans presses into your pussy in a way that sends a frisson of heat up your spine. You hurriedly uncross your legs, and attempt to school your expression into casual neutrality as you force yourself to tune back into the conversation.

“–ach, c’mon, Captain,” Soap is saying in a wheedling tone that he probably thinks is endearing. “One round of strip poker won’t kill ya–”

“No.” Price says in a voice like thunder, brooking no argument as thick cigar smoke pours from his nose. It gives the impression of an enraged bull.

Soap either is ignorant to the warning, or is choosing to wilfully ignore it. Judging by the sly gleam in his eyes, you can guess which. He turns to you then, and waggles his eyebrows.

“C’mon, lassie, you’ll play, won’t ya?” He asks with a grin that promises trouble. “I guarantee you’ll be a sight better than any o’ these louts.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gaz pipes up, already grinning. “I was looking forward to seeing the Captain in his jocks–”

Price promptly knocks his drink back, before pushing himself up to his feet with a grim groan. “Right. That’s enough of you lot for one night.”

Gaz and Soap break into peals of laughter, settling back into their seats as they watch their captain march away.

“Offer’s still open, love,” Soap says, still snickering when he looks over to you. “Wanna play?”

Ghost shifts, his wide thigh knocking into yours as his arm stretches behind your shoulders. He lets out a short exhale through his nose, but when you glance up at him you find him as stoic and hard to read as always.

You just roll your eyes. It’s not the first time that they’ve tried to rope you into strip poker, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You can always trust Soap to start stripping his clothes off when he’s three drinks in, whether he’s playing a game or not, so it’s not surprising that he tries to involve other people in his bad decision making.

And it’s not a big deal, really. There’s been countless missions and operations that have ended up with all of you staying in uncomfortably close quarters with each other. You’ve seen them naked countless times, and the same with them for you. It’s never meant anything, and you know that Soap’s teasing is exactly that – you don’t think they’ve ever once looked at you through any sexual lens at all.

But even still, the joke flusters you more than it should.

“Think I’ll be joining Cap in going to bed, actually.” You say, clearing your throat and setting your glass down on the low table in front of the couch.

The playful booing from Soap doesn’t do much to change your mind, and you stick out your tongue at him and Gaz as you push yourself up from the couch. You try to ignore the loss of heat at your side when you move away from Ghost, though you can’t help but glance back at the lieutenant. He’s not looking at you, his gaze directed into his glass. You try not to feel disappointed about that.

You say your goodnights, and retreat from the rec room.

By the time you make it back to your dorm however, you’re already playing the conversation back over in your head and wondering if you had made the wrong decision.

Perhaps you should have just played the damn game. Despite your inexperience with all things sexual, you’re not actually all that shy about your body. On missions, you and the squad are often forced into tight quarters, and they've all seen you in various stages of undress before. It's hard to be self-conscious around a group of people that have seen you at your worst, whether that’s soaked in blood, unshowered, sleep-deprived, or injured.

But you were so keyed up from your earlier failed attempts at masturbation that the thought of being so physically exposed in front of your squad is mortifying. It feels as though your unresolved arousal is still simmering through your veins, turning your thoughts slow and soupy and stupid. 

It’s not so surprising. Your preferred method of dealing with stress is coming back to your private bunk and messing around with your vibrator until you’ve forgotten all of your problems. The problem is, you’ve never quite been able to reach that climax you’ve heard so many talk about.

It’s not for lack of trying, and it’s not as though you haven’t come close to that toe-curling finish you crave so much. But it’s like there’s some sort of block, something that always holds you back before you can go plummeting over that edge. Something that makes the buzzing pleasure dissipate before your eyes like smoke, leaving you worked up and so frustrated. It’s probably inevitable that all those ruined finishes have built up like sludge in your veins, leaving you slow and distracted and irritable.

You eye your underwear drawer thoughtfully as you perch on your bed, before reaching inside and drawing out the same dildo you had been using earlier. You wonder if it would be too much to try again tonight – the muscles in your calves still feel a little bit over-worked from training all day, and you have a feeling that straining in an attempt to reach an orgasm you’ll likely never attain will only make it worse.

But the thought of Ghost in that stupid tight cotton shirt stays firmly stuck in your mind, and that really makes the decision for you. Before you can think too much about it, you’re sliding your jeans off and climbing atop your mattress. The sheets are dirty anyway, after all. May as well have some fun before you change them.

You slide your panties off next, then kick them to the side. It’s difficult not to feel a little pathetic, but you push those feelings aside. So what if you have an embarrassing little crush on a superior officer? It’s not like that’s unusual within the military, and you’re quite certain that dealing with all that unresolved attraction like this is the most sensible thing you can do.

You fish out the bottle of lube you had been using earlier, and drizzle it liberally along the dildo’s length before setting it aside on the blanket. While you’ve used your dildo plenty of times, you still struggle to grow accustomed to the stretch of it. It’s a good dildo – a vibrating one in the rabbit style, designed to stimulate your g-spot and clit at the same time. It was damn expensive too, but it’s one luxury you’re willing to indulge in.

You close your eyes, slide it between your legs, and hit the power button. A low bzzz emanates from between your thighs; you jerk at the immediate barrage of pleasure, your abs tightening and your legs twitching apart, creating more room between them.

Your body is quick to react, sweat prickling under your armpits and your heart thudding quickly in your chest. You can feel electric pleasure coursing through you as you press it against your clit, your toes curling into your sheets.

You bring the vibrator lower, your clit throbbing a little at its sudden absence before you press it inside, sighing. It slips inside much too easily – you’re almost embarrassed by the easy slide. You’re so wet, both from your failed attempt at masturbation earlier and from sitting beside Simon fucking Riley all evening. It’s a deeper, subtler pleasure now, and you clench around it with a quiet moan. 

You cycle through the vibrator’s different settings, making it buzz at odd intervals or lower intensities in your usual attempt to build up an orgasm. You wish, with sudden and mortifying clarity, that it could be replaced with a person. More specifically, a person with big hands and firm muscles that still have some soft give to them, and a toe-curlingly gravelly voice.

You squirm, shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrator inside you. Without meaning to, you imagine Ghost. It’s hard not to, considering your close proximity to him all evening. Your cheeks heat as you imagine Ghost actually being here, watching you all still and silent with that penetrating dark-eyed stare of his. 

You huff out a breath, arching off your bed. This is always the best part. You have to ensure that you relish the build up, before it all fizzles out from between your fingers. You whimper, soft and quiet, clenching around the stiff silicone as it buzzes away inside of you.

Right as you press the soft little vibrating bunny ears to your clit, there’s a knock on the door. Then, horrifically, like a scene from your fucking nightmares, your door opens.

“Kid, you–”

Ghost is already half-way through the door when he lays eyes on you, and then he goes completely still in your doorway.

“Fuck.” You hiss, scrambling to knock the stupid thing off. 

You fumble for it, panicking. The end is slippery and you can barely manage to grip it. When you finally do, it’s difficult to pull out, your body still attempting to hold it inside. It’s another agonising few seconds to turn it off, the vibrator unfortunately featuring one of those awfully thought-out designs that makes you have to cycle through every single one of the settings rather than hit an off-switch.

And then, finally, silence.

Ghost is living up to his name right now; he’s as stock still and silent as a dead man, stiff as a board as he stares unblinkingly at you. You’re not even sure that he’s breathing, but you can see the whites of his eyes as he gapes at you, frozen.

You stare back at him blankly, hoping that your bed comes to life and swallows you whole just to put an end to your mortification.

At last, Ghost blinks, then finishes his sentence. “You left your phone.”

He lifts his arm. In his large, thick fist, is your stupid goddamn phone. You must have left it on the couch when you had gotten up to leave. You might have wondered at the lieutenant voluntarily bringing it to your dorm for you, but you’re hit with a wave of humiliation so strong that it wipes your brain completely blank.

“Ah.” You say, and your voice cracks. “Thanks.”

There’s a moment of mortifying silence, and then Ghost steps into your room. Your heart jolts right up into the base of your throat as he closes your door behind him. The click of the door is as loud as a gunshot in the silence that’s settled over the room.

Ghost still hasn’t blinked. He’s watching you with eyes that look almost black in the dim light of your room, intense as a predator. 

“I–” You attempt to speak, and your throat clicks dryly. “I didn’t–”

Far too late, you realise that your legs are still splayed open. You snap them shut, inhaling a choked breath through your nose.

“I thought I locked the door.” You finish lamely. 

Ghost apparently decides to simply disregard that, which you’re honestly a little grateful for. Instead he steps towards you – the enormous bulk of him feels as though he’s completely filling every bit of space in the room, sucking out all the damn oxygen.

“...‘S this why you were so distracted this evening, hm?” He says as he approaches the bed. “You were in a mood ‘cause you wanted to get back to playing with yourself?”

It’s not a question, exactly. At least, it’s not phrased like one. Ghost’s tone is knowing, with an undertone of gruff amusement. You’re certain that you’re not imagining the rough, breathless quality to his voice either, though the thought sends nerves fizzing through your bloodstream.

“No.” You deny uselessy; it’s plainly obvious what you were doing, after all. “No, I just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish. His eyes are still glued to you, even though your thighs are now pressed together. Before you can stop him, he reaches down and takes a hold of your hot pink vibrator where you had been trying to hide it beneath your thigh.

“Cute little thing.” He comments, tilting his head to look at the dildo hanging between his thick fingers.

Mortification burns through you. A panicked sort of screech escapes you and you yank it back out of Ghost’s stupid big hand, shoving it under the blankets. 

Perhaps if it had been anyone else, your humiliation wouldn’t be burning quite so intensely. But this is Ghost – your lieutenant, the gruff man that you’ve looked up to ever since you joined the task force. He’s not a man famed for his patience, nor for his eloquence, which is making this situation all the more unbearable.

“Lt,” You wheeze, scrambling to sit up and cover your pussy with your hands as you squeeze your legs closed. “I swear I didn’t– I’m sorry–”

But Ghost doesn’t seem interested in your apologies. He’s still watching you as though he can see right through the damn blanket, as though he’s measuring you up and trying to come to a decision about something. In that moment, you hate your reaction to him – no matter how humiliating this situation is, you want him to approve of you, even now.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He grunts, and then he sits down on your bed.

You gape at him. It feels as though your brain has stalled; you’re pretty sure you’re not reacting correctly right now. You probably should have screamed when the lieutenant walked right into your room without knocking. That surely would have sent him straight back out again. And even now, you should probably be ordering him out, telling him to leave. 

But you don’t.

“I was.. um.. finished anyway.” You manage to croak out. You sound so pathetic that you nearly make yourself cringe.

Ghost doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, his eyes as dark as ever beneath the mask. For a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all.

But then he says, “Didn’t look like you finished to me.”

Blood rushes to your face so quickly that it makes you light-headed as you catch his meaning. Oh, what the fuck. This is just adding salt to the wound now.

“I wasn’t trying to–” You start, then cut yourself off. “That’s not why I was– I was just trying to relax.”

In the ensuing silence, you realise how silly you sound. At the very least, Ghost doesn’t laugh; he just tilts his head to the side, consideringly.

“Let me see.”

You gape at him. “I– sir–”

“Let me see, sergeant.”

It’s not an order. Not quite. Ghost’s voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You have room to refuse. You could tell him to get out of your dorm right now, and he’d do it. Knowing the lieutenant, he’d never bring it up again, either.

You drop your knees apart, spreading your thighs in an unpracticed, self-conscious sort of motion. 

Under the lieutenant’s sharp gaze, your skin prickles and your nerves strain. Even sitting down on your bed, he’s a veritable behemoth of broad shoulders and thick corded muscle. His hulking form towers over you even now, and you feel so damn small as you lay there propped up against your pillows in nothing but a t-shirt.

Ghost has seen you naked before, obviously. You can’t afford to be prudish in the military, where you never know when you’ll next have true privacy, and you’ve changed out and showered with the squad countless times. It’s never meant anything, and the men in 141 have never made you feel anything less than comfortable with them.

This, however, is different. This isn’t just a case of catching a quick glimpse of your nude form as you shower in the group shower rooms when you’re out on missions – your whole damn pussy is out on display for him, still glistening wet and sticky from your ministrations and the lube you’d used.

Ghost’s inhale is as loud as a thunderclap. You’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in another person’s presence. You feel a little ridiculous laying like this as he watches you, but another part of you feels so humiliatingly desperate for some kind of approval from your lieutenant. 

At first, that approval is nowhere to be found. Ghost is notoriously difficult to read, and you’re beginning to sweat as you lay there waiting for a response – any response.

At last, he makes a noise. It’s part grunt, part hum, and part groan.

“You’re still wet, sergeant.”

Are you imagining it, or is his voice an octave deeper than usual? 

Your eyes trace his face, trying to imagine what he looks like beneath the mask. You can see the suggestion of his nose, the square curve of his jaw. His darkened eyes are watching you so carefully that you feel as though you’re physically being pinned in place.

You swallow. “It’s just– I–”

“You didn’t get to finish.” Ghost interrupts, with the air of completing your sentence for you. 

You try to speak, but nothing more than a strangled sort of murmur escapes. You swallow hastily, then try again.

“I wasn’t going to. Sir.” You tack on the title at the end as an afterthought, but this whole situation is so far beyond professional that you probably needn’t have bothered. “Finish, I mean. I… I never do.”

You’ve admitted it before you can really think about it, and then you regret it wildly. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve overstepped a boundary, but then again the boundaries are currently so blurred that they’re virtually impossible to discern.

“You never finish.” Ghost repeats it. Slowly, staring right at your face, as though he’s confirming what you’ve just said. 

It sounds so much worse in his deep, gravelly voice.

Embarrassment blooms, thick and sickly in your stomach. Your legs start to twitch closed, too embarrassed to be having this conversation with your cunt bared like this, but then Ghost’s big paw of a hand reaches out to settle over your knee, keeping you open and exposed. It’s so rare to see his hands ungloved, and the bare skin of his callous-roughened hand feels almost scorching hot against your inner knee.

“I don’t– I’ve tried,” You say, and you can’t help but feel as though you’re just digging yourself further into a hole, here. “But I don’t– I’m not able to. I mean, I’ve come close, I’m just not able to… you know.”

You trail off lamely, feeling like the biggest fucking loser ever. Why are you telling him this? Why the fuck haven’t you reacted properly, and kicked him the hell out of your room?

Deep down, a shameful little part of you already knows the answer to that. You’re feeling awfully, sickeningly hopeful. Having Lieutenant Riley in your dorm, sitting on your bed and staring so hungrily at the wet, swollen parts between your legs feels like something out of your wildest wet dreams.

His eyes flick towards your pink silicone rabbit dildo, half-hidden under your blanket, and he grunts consideringly before reaching out and taking it into his hands again. It’s standard-size, but it looks small in his big hands.

“You ain’t doin’ it right, then.” He says, so bluntly that you just blink at him. “Show me how you use it.”

For a brief, wild moment, you wonder if you’re experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations right now. Surely you can’t really be experiencing this right now – and yet the lieutenant is still watching you, and you’ve never disobeyed a direct order before. 

He hands you the vibrator, then waits expectantly.

And… well. All you ever try to do is impress him. 

You shuffle your legs open a little wider, ignoring the flustered heat that scalds your cheeks. You’ve never been all exposed like this in front of another person, and the weight of Ghost’s eyes on you is reminiscent of being under a spotlight.

You swear his eyes darken even further when you press the stiff silicone rabbit dildo to your cunt, if it’s even possible for that gaze to get darker beneath the thick balaclava and eyeblack smeared over the narrow strip of skin that’s visible.

The dildo sinks in so easily that it’s almost embarrassing, and your breath catches both from the stretch and the way Ghost leans in a little closer to see. Far from turning you off, you feel your body throb in response to his proximity, and your cunt flutters pathetically around the plastic toy. You shift, attempting to get a little more comfortable, but you can’t dispel the nerves fizzing in your blood as you attempt to push the dildo a little deeper under Ghost’s sharp gaze.

His big, hulking body is so perfectly still as he watches you that it’s making you a little nervous. The only reaction that you get from him is a small, considering hum, but even then you can’t figure out what it means. Your movements are a little clumsy, so hyper-conscious that he’s watching every single thing you do that you end up fumbling a little. He’s looking at you in the same way he assesses threats, his intense dark eyes examining every movement and reaction you make. It makes you feel small and jittery, especially when you realise that he’s judging you by what you’re doing.

“You gonna turn it on?” He asks, and oh god his voice has definitely dropped lower and huskier. You know you’re not imagining it. 

You can’t even bring yourself to respond with words. You just make a strangled sort of sound of agreement, then clumsily hit the on button. The toy buzzes to life once more, and your toes curl absent-mindedly into the sheets as the soft silicone bunny ears pulse against your clit.

It feels nice, but you can’t manage to concentrate on the feeling. Hyper-aware of Ghost’s attention, you let out a quiet moan as you shift the vibrator inside you. It’s a little exaggerated, but you can’t help it – you feel like you should be putting on some kind of a show. 

You glance back at Ghost’s face, trying to guess what he’s thinking; even through the mask, you can tell that he’s frowning. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. Have you done something wrong?

“This how you usually do it?” He asks.

You swallow thickly, feeling a bit stupid. “Um.. yeah.”

Ghost grunts. He doesn’t sound impressed.

“No wonder you can’t come.” He says wryly.

You go still, eyes widening. In the silence, the bzzzzt! of your stupid vibrator is louder than ever. A sudden wave of shame washes over you, and you start to close your legs again in an effort to block the sight of the toy stuffed into your pussy.

“Oh,” You snap sourly, your embarrassment making you irritable. “So you’re the pussy expert now?”

That startles a loud bark of a laugh out of the lieutenant, a sound so rare that you find yourself desperately trying to commit it to memory.

“Think I might know a bit more than you, sweetheart.” He says. He’s relaxed now, his wide shoulders rolling back. He’s always so effortlessly confident, always so assured in himself and his abilities in a way that makes you feel like a silly little girl. 

Judging by the way the corners of his eyes are just slightly wrinkled beneath the mask, Ghost is smirking at you. He finds this funny.

“What about when you’re with other people, hm?” He asks, and his eyes drop back down to try and get a look at you again. When he realises that your legs are clamped tight together, he reaches out to guide your thighs apart again. “No one’s ever impressed you?”

His hands are big and rough and hot, and your willpower crumbles like wet paper as you allow him to open your legs all over again. The vibrator is still buzzing sadly inside you, mostly forgotten about; the stimulation is nice, but it’s never been enough for you.

You huff a weak laugh. You should have known that this would come up, and now you find yourself floundering a little.

“No one’s ever tried.” The confession comes out like a whisper, like a secret.

You can see the moment Ghost understands; realisation settles heavy over him like a physical weight, and the whites of his eyes flash as they widen just slightly. For a moment, he says nothing at all. He doesn’t move – it doesn’t even look like he breathes. 

“No?” He says, except it doesn’t really sound like a question. It sounds rough, and you can feel the almost convulsive motion of his fingers tightening around your knee. 

You shake your head wordlessly, beyond embarrassed now.

Ghost��s wispy blond eyelashes flutter softly as his eyes dart down to your pussy, still humiliatingly stuffed with your stupid little vibrator. He takes a moment to stare, then looks back up to your face. He’s so frustratingly confident about everything he does, not an ounce of shame in his posture even as you wilt beneath him.

“Never messed around with anybody?”

“No.” You say, and it comes out on a wheeze. He holds your gaze without faltering, and you realise that he’s expecting you to elaborate. “No, I– it just never happened. I was never… um, I was just always too busy, I guess.”

“Too fussy, more like.” He mutters, quiet enough that it seems like it’s a comment meant just for himself. You don’t know how to take that, so you chew your lip and stay quiet.

His eyes drop down to the vibrating dildo again, and you recognise something that looks like a flash of hunger. It feels like there’s pressure building up beneath your skin, tight and hot, and your thighs fall open a little further. You feel raw and so, so exposed, but you don’t even care when Ghost is looking at you like that.

“Let me try.” He says, the words falling out sharp and harsh as though he they’ve burst out of his mouth before he can stop them. It’s not like Ghost to speak without thinking it through, perfectly calculated, and your breath catches a little at the offer.

How could you ever say no to that? You don’t really think that he’s going to succeed in making you come – at this point you’re pretty sure your body is a little bit broken and you’re just not capable of orgasming at all, and that’s whatever – but the chance to get fucked by Ghost? To lose the lingering vestiges of your viriginity to your ridiculously hot, mysterious, massive lieutenant? It’s like something out of a dream.

“Okay.” You choke out, nodding stupidly. “Yeah.”

You want to be touched. You don’t think you’ve ever actually felt the yearning for physical contact this strongly in your life; you’re practically holding your breath as you wait for Ghost to make a move.

Finally, he reaches out. His first move is to pull the stupid little dildo out of you, still vibrating, and you feel yourself clench convulsively around nothing as he leaves you empty and wanting. He spares it a brief, evaluating glance, and you feel yourself burn as you realise he’s examining how you’ve soaked the toy.

He tosses it to the side, barely even taking the time to switch it off first, then turns his attention back to you. He’s got that same kind of laser-focus he usually only gets out on the field, and you take a moment to feel incredibly grateful that you’re never going to be on the receiving end of that terrifying scrutiny on the battlefield.

It feels like your skin is too tight for your body, every nerve and synapse strained and primed as you wait for him to touch you. But he’s slow about it, as though he just wants to torture you a little bit. 

When he finally reaches out to lay his hands on you, he doesn’t touch where you want him to.

His callous-roughened hands land on your hips, and pull you down the bed towards him. In the same move, he half-climbs up on the mattress, his huge form practically dwarfing you. Your head and shoulders are still cushioned by your pillows, but your legs are splayed open around Ghost where he kneels on your bed.

You glance down, unable to help yourself, unable to resist trying to catch a look at the outline of his erection pressing against his trousers, and oh. Fuck. He’s big. You knew he’d be big, of course, he’s big all over, but Jesus Christ, maybe you’re a little out of your own depth here–

His thick fingers tangle in the hem of your t-shirt, stretching the fabric out. “Take this off.”

You scramble to do as he says, grabbing at your top and pulling it up clumsily. You realise a moment too late that you’re not wearing a bra, but you suppose at this point it hardly matters. You drop your shirt to the side, and try not to feel too horrifically self-conscious beneath the burning hot gaze of the lieutenant.

Though you can’t see Ghost’s face, you can hear the soft exhale he blows out through his nose, just faintly muffled by the fabric of his mask. His eyes are trained on your chest, darting between each of your tits as though he can’t decide which one to settle on. After a long moment, he reaches forward and cups your left tit with one of his enormous hands, thumbing absently at one of your nipples.

It’s silly; Ghost has touched you before. Lots of times. A nudge of the elbow accompanied by a conspiratorial eye roll, a clap to the shoulder, rough hands pulling you to your feet after training or applying white-hot painful pressure to injuries. But this – you’ve never been touched like this before, not by Ghost, not by anyone.

The shaky breath you let out as his big, rough thumb rolls over your firm nipple comes out as a strangled sort of moan that honestly startles you a little. The noise catches his attention, and he snorts.

“Can’t be that sensitive.” He mutters, but then he reaches to thumb at your other nipple as though trying to be sure.

It’s because you’ve never been touched like this by another person before, you tell yourself. Truthfully, you’ve never even touched yourself like this before. You’ve never bothered to play with your own tits; you’ve always just gone straight to breaking out your vibrators. Now, with every brush of Ghost’s scarred fingers over the tight bud of your nipples, you think you must have been crazy to skip over this part of yourself. But then again, there’s no way that your own hands on yourself would elicit the same sharp jolt that shoots from your breasts down your spine.

“Sir–” You breathe, struggling not to squirm where you’re laying. You wonder, somewhat deliriously, if it might be rude to demand your lieutenant stuff his thick fingers into your pussy. You can already tell that they’re going to feel so much better than your own.

Ghost glances up at you, his eyes unreadable as he watches you bite at your lip. God, his little wispy eyelashes are so blond—

“What?” He says, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. “Say it.”

“Want to try your fingers.” You breathe before you can second-guess yourself. 

The laugh that rumbles out of Ghost’s chest is low and smoky. It’s probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, so big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. You’ve witnessed those hands crack bones and snap necks and break down doors, and yet you can’t help but wonder desperately what they’re going to feel like when he starts touching you properly.

He adjusts himself on the bed; he’s a big man, hulking and huge as he kneels on your mattress, his weight causing it to dip. His palms wrap around your ankles with ease, and he hauls you into place with a grim efficiency that goes straight to your pussy.

“Big brute.” You say, a little breathlessly.

He ignores you, using his arms to hold your legs open and wide for him. And all you can do is just lie there as he stares, because goddamn it’s like he’s been carved from steel and you can’t break out of his grip. Not that you want to break out of his grip anyway, but you’d really appreciate it if he actually got moving instead of just staring.

“Fuck,” He grunts after a moment, with the air of talking to himself. “Been hiding this all this time, huh?”

“Jesus.” You breathe in response, subconsciously letting your legs drop open even more.

He makes a low noise of appreciation, and finally reaches out to touch you properly. One thick thumb swipes through the seam of your cunt, and you feel the way he’s smearing the clear sticky wetness that’s been leaking steadily out of you. With his now slick thumb, he drags up towards your clit and circles it with agonisingly light pressure.

You let out an embarrassing choked whine, your toes curling at the sensation. Somewhat ironically, Ghost is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your attempts, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow.

“D’you always get this wet?”

You can’t even tell if he’s asking you mockingly or if he’s being genuinely curious; it feels like every inch of your focus has narrowed down to the feel of his big thumb rolling those tight little circles around your clit, his touch scorching against you.

It’s not exactly surprising that Ghost is good with his hands. You’ve seen the way he handles weaponry, locking and loading and aiming to fire with the kind of swiftness that comes from muscle memory, working with unwavering speed and precision. He’s the same in hand-to-hand combat, moving with aggressive fluidity that overwhelms his opponents. You’ve caught hits from him before in training, and you know from experience that a punch from those big hands feels like getting hit by a cinder block.

But even knowing how deft and skilled his hands are, it knocks the breath out of you when he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, still rubbing steadily at the swollen bump of your clit. 

When you exhale, it accidentally comes out as a moan. Your cheeks burn, but there’s really no space in your brain right now for embarrassment to sink in. Two of Ghost’s fingers are the equivalent of at least three and a half of yours, and you feel yourself break out into an overwhelmed sweat when they twist and rub against the sensitive squishy spot in the front wall of your cunt.

You’re so damn worked up, your arousal coiled like a knot in your lower belly from your failed attempts to get yourself off all day. Your back curves, humping yourself near mindlessly back up into his hand as he plays you like a goddamn instrument.

You barely even have time to consider how unfair it is that Ghost is so good at playing with you like this when he doesn’t even have a pussy himself, because then he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop–” You start to protest breathlessly, your chest still heaving, but the quick glance the lieutenant sends you has you falling silent.

Ghost glances down at his fingers. They’re all glossy from fingering you, and he takes a moment to eye up the way they glisten in the dim light of your bunk. You might have felt self-conscious about it, if you couldn’t see the unmistakable gleam of hungry interest in Ghost’s dark brown eyes.

He wipes his hand on the crease of your hip, but you don’t even get the chance to protest before he reaches up to hook his fingers into his mask. You go still, holding your breath in surprise as he pulls the material up until it bunches up around the bridge of his nose.

And that’s– well. You’ve seen his jaw before, and his mouth (Jesus, you had seen it earlier that evening, when he had been sipping on his smooth whiskey of choice), but the sight of his strong jawline and blond stubble and corded scars on his pale skin always manages to knock the breath out of you. And this time, he’s rolled his mask up even further than before, revealing a nose that’s clearly been broken at least once before.

You probably shouldn’t stare so blatantly, especially knowing that Ghost always takes such pains to keep his face covered. You’re not even sure if the other guys on the team have seen his uncovered face, except for Price, and you know that they’ve developed a habit of averting their eyes when he pulls his mask up for whatever reason. It’s a habit that you never quite managed to develop yourself; you’re never able to stop yourself from gaping at him like a moron, drinking in all of the minutest details. He’s never said a thing about your penchant for staring, so you can only hope that he’s chosen to ignore it.

You’re so busy staring that it takes you by surprise when he grips your jaw with one massive hand and pulls you into a rough kiss.

The sound you make is small and startled, but it’s swallowed by Ghost’s demanding mouth. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but they feel scorching hot against yours. You reach up to grab at his arms – mostly just to ground yourself – but you find yourself almost immediately distracted by the firm bulge of his biceps beneath your hands.

Listen, you’ve kissed people before, plenty times. You’re in your early twenties, and just because you’re inexperienced sexually it doesn’t mean that you’re inexperienced full stop. But this, right now, kissing with Ghost, makes you feel as though you’ve been doing nothing but fumbling your way through all of those encounters, like you’ve been kissing wrong all this time.

It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body until you find your fingers grasping desperately at the short cotton sleeves of Ghost’s t-shirt where it’s stretched over his thickly muscled arm.

Ghost doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. It’s like a full-body experience with him; he puts his hands, his whole damn body into the kiss. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backwards into the pillows beneath you. At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Ghost’s hands running over you, stroking you sides and squeezing at your breasts and groping at the soft flesh of your hips and ass. 

 “Hah,” You gasp out when Ghost’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you feel yourself grow embarrassingly wetter, just from a little kissing.

“You good?” Ghost grunts into your throat as he nips at the base of your jaw.

“Uh huh.” You manage to get out, still clutching at his meaty arms like they’re a lifeline. “So good.”

His breath is hot on your throat when he rumbles out a deep chuckle, and then his tongue flicks out against your earlobe. It makes you forget how to breathe for a second, and you’re distracted when Ghost’s hand changes course, easing beneath your legs so he can press his fingers against your clit again.

Then he pauses, and his fingers slide lower, lazily hooking back and inside you. You tremble, horny and humiliated as you realise that your arousal is glistening all over your damn thighs, impossible to miss.

“Fuck,” Ghost mutters. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

“Hnng,” You whimper like an idiot as his fingers return to your clit, now slick and slippery. “I’m just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of you again and kisses you hard. The soft breathy noises you make are muffled into his mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically. He’s built like a damn mountain, your thighs stretched wide to accommodate the bulk of him as he settles against the core of you.

He likes that – he presses in close, and you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing up against you through the roughness of his jeans. You’re so sensitive that the coarseness of the fabric is almost unbearable, but you’re able to ignore it because you’re so distracted by the sensation of his erection because holy fucking shit that can’t really be how big he is.

You gasp, the sound high and breathy, and you try to grind against Ghost, but it’s impossible because he’s so fucking heavy and he’s pinning you down on the mattress beneath him. Instead, all you can do is squeeze your legs and pull Ghost in even tighter, increasing the pressure between the two of you.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” Ghost whispers, and it sounds like a promise. He drags his lips up your throat, then talks against the corner of your mouth. “You won’t be able to touch yourself again without wishing it was me.”

The wave of desire that rocks through you almost pulls you under, and you swear you might have actually gotten so horny that you blacked out for a second, because from one second to the next Ghost has somehow managed to muscle his way back down between your thighs so that he’s eye-level with your cunt.

“What are you–” You start to say, but then he loops his forearms under your knees to tug your legs wider, and you realise just how close his face is to your pussy. You swear you’re actually pulsing with arousal, and you wonder a little wildly if he can see that.

“Oh, fuck, yes — please,” You blurt out, before Ghost has even gotten his mouth on you. He chuckles, low and amused. His grin looks predatory, but in this moment you really don’t mind being the prey — not if it means you’ll be devoured by that mouth.

Then Ghost’s mouth is against you, wet and burning hot. You cry out, barely noticing as Ghost throws one of your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open.

It’s just the right side of overwhelming. Ghost’s mouth feels like it’s going to swallow you whole – his tongue is huge and flat and firm as he licks over your clit, making your thighs quake on either side of his head. It’s entirely unlike any of the fumbling masturbatory attempts you’ve ever made – you always enjoy messing around with your various little sex toys, but you’re swiftly beginning to realise that it could never compare to real human contact. Or at least, contact with Ghost.

His hands move from your waist to your asscheeks, his big palms squeezing the plump flesh there before using his grip to pull your body closer so that he can bury his whole face between your legs. The rougher material of his mask presses harshly into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, but you hardly even notice it.

Your pussy has never been this wet before; it feels like you’ve sprung a goddamn leak. You might have felt embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the way Ghost groans against you, his wide tongue laving flat and rough against the seam of your cunt as he practically gulps down all the sticky arousal you have to give him.

“Oh god– fuck! Sir…” You sigh, spreading your knees farther apart so that Ghost can wedge his head further between your thighs.

Your ears burn as your room is filled with sounds of him tonguing at your cunt, the lewd wet squish of him working you over until you’re keening, your hips twitching clumsily until his hands tighten where he’s gripping the plump flesh of your ass to keep you still. Then all you can do is twitch as he licks over your clit in repetitive lapping motions, working in circles and then dipping down to shove his searingly hot tongue inside you. You can feel his teeth press against your labia even as he sucks at your clit, and the sensation sends hot bolts of pleasure rocketing down your spine.

Though you don’t mean to, you’re pretty sure that you make his job harder. You can’t stop wriggling, tossing your head back against your pillows and squirming on Ghost’s tongue in a wild overstimulated dance, like a fish caught in a net.

Finally, Ghost seems to have enough of your unco-ordinated flailing attempts to grind against his face. He reaches around your thigh with one arm to reach your clit so he can keep it stimulated as he gulps at the sticky sweetness of your cunt like a man possessed – the action also works to keep your hips pinned down and still. You stop your frantic moving, but your spasms and sounds increase tenfold.

You can hardly believe it, but you feel something coming. A sweet, torturous build up starts in your belly, and you sweat and gasp as he licks and suckles at you relentlessly. You’ve never found yourself in this state so quickly before, with your legs trembling and your breathing heavy and shaky. 

“Oh.. oh…” You breathe, beginning to arch your back.

You know this feeling – this is where that sweet climax builds and builds, only to dissipate at the last agonisingly close moment. But this time, with Ghost’s big head between your thighs as his mouth moves against you, sucking, tasting, eating up everything you have to offer, the breath-taking pleasure doesn’t show any sign of slipping out of reach. It feels like for once you might actually reach that peak.

But then, right as you’re certain that you’re about to tip over that long-awaited coveted release, the bastard pulls away.

“No!” You practically shriek, attempting to sit up. “No, I was so close–!”

“Lie back.” Ghost orders, his voice like the crack of a whip. 

You drop back obediently before you can even register that you’re moving, so conditioned to react instantly to that tone of voice coming from Ghost’s deep rumbling baritone. Your eyes are wide and betrayed as you stare at him, admittedly a little baleful.

God, but it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s staring up at you from between your legs like that. His eyes are dark and hungry beneath the mask, and since it’s all pushed up and rumpled around his nose you get a toe-curlingly good look at his lower face. His chin is wet and smeared with your slick, and his lips are plump and pink and swollen from all the kissing and suckling he’s done to you. In a moment of near-delirium, you think that you understand now why he covers his face – his mouth is pretty in a way that shocks you, in a way that needs to be hidden for decency’s sake.

“You’re gettin’ greedy,” He grunts, turning his head and sinking his teeth into the crease of your thigh just to make you yelp. “Wait for it, love. It’ll be worth the wait.”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, so all you can do is lay back and hold on for the ride. He presses his mouth to you again, and you whimper softly as he tongues at your clit. 

“No one’s ever eaten you out like this?” He asks, the words muffled into the damp curve of your thigh. It’s stupid, because you know he knows the answer to that is a resounding no, but it seems like he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“No.” You say, your breaths sawing their way out of your chest.

“Hnn.” He makes some kind of grunting sound against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. “That’s why you’ve been so tense, huh? So fuckin’ desperate for someone to touch you?”

“That’s not– ‘m not tense,” You manage to get out, your breasts heaving as your thighs tense up where they’re thrown over his shoulders. “Maybe.. Maybe you’re too relaxed.”

Ghost huffs a hot little laugh at your hip because you both know that couldn’t be further from the truth. You doubt anyone has ever accused Ghost of being too relaxed before, but you don’t have time to feel stupid for it – not when Ghost is devoting the full force of his attention on you, deep breaths huffing against the wet skin of your pussy and making you shudder.

“That’s it,” He croons, his voice uncharacteristically soft and lilting. The rumble of it ripples through your limbs like lapping waves, his battle-roughened palm stroking and smoothing down your ass and thigh as he hauls you closer. “Relax, sweetheart. Fuck, such a pretty pussy. Fuckin’ criminal of you to keep this hidden away all to yourself.” And then, quieter, “Fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet.”

You’re not even sure that he’s talking to you. It seems more as though he’s talking to himself, and it just happens to be you he’s talking about. Your cheeks burn as the feeling of vulnerability sets in, but you keep your legs spread wide as he kisses your clit with his swollen pink lips. You want so badly to be good, for him to be pleased with you, that you push past your embarrassment as best you can.

There’s a budding anxiety in your belly that Ghost is wasting his time here. As much as you crave his touch and the build up, you worry that he’s going to get frustrated with you and your inability to actually orgasm.

But Ghost doesn’t seem to be in a rush. He seems perfectly fucking happy between your legs, and even with his mask all clumsily rucked up around his nose he presses his face into your pussy with his eyes heavy-lidded and hazy. Even when you shift a little in an effort to get him to go a little harder or faster, he just pins you still and continues at his own leisurely pace.

When he reintroduces his fingers, pressing inside and stretching you out with a light sting, you hiss and try to lift your hips again. His rough calloused knuckles brush against the inside of your soft inner thighs, making them quiver as he goes three fingers deep.

“Shhh, atta girl.” He mumbles into you, his words coming out wetly muffled since he doesn’t even both pulling his face back. “Fuckin’– shit, so good.”

The praise shoots liquid and molten through you, and you have to bite back a pathetic keen as you pulse around his fingers. You’re sure he must feel it, because he lets out an answering rumble and laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks.

“Oh god–”

“Shhh.” Ghost scoots forward so your knee can hoist over his shoulder. Then he angles his chin to kiss the skin on the inside curve of your knee as he pumps into you with slow, slippery fingers and ungodly squelching noises that only sparks you hotter. You can’t even tell if it’s sweat or tears dotting your face anymore.

Though Ghost’s eyes are heavy-lidded and a little fogged over, he hasn’t looked away from you once. The focused intensity of his gaze spears you through, because you’ve never been looked at like that. No one has ever seen you like this, no one has ever put effort into you like this, no one has ever been so determined to please you before. You don’t know how you’re ever going to recover from this; you have a terrifyingly distinct impression that he’s going to live up to his promise to ruin you for anyone else.

It feels as though your blood is boiling beneath your skin, and you nearly sob when Ghost pulls back. You’ve never been so close, and you want to scream when he takes his gorgeous fucking mouth away from your clit.

“Fuck.” You wet your lips, realising you were panting like a dog and your mouth is bone dry. “Fuck, Ghost, just—”

“Quiet, lovie.” His reply is hoarse and firm, his throat working hard to swallow as he peered down between you, his clever thumb delving slick circles over the taut bump of your clit, his other three fingers fucking with easy rhythm and purpose. It’s maddening, it’s infuriating, it makes you feel as though you’re about to break apart.

His fingers are pulled out, and then you feel firm pressure pressing into you yet again. Your head lolls as you attempt to sit up, your eyelids fluttering as you realise that he’s pressing your stupid dildo into you again.

“Oh, you bastard–” You start to complain, but Ghost doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak properly.

The dildo slides into you so easily, your sticky slick mixing with his spit making the slide almost effortless. You sigh, a build-up of pressure making your whole body feel as though you’ve been stretched out and pulled tight. 

Now that you’ve been pushed to the edge, you linger by it. Ghost keeps you on that edge for what feels like hours, until your breaths are burning in your chest and the ligaments in your calves are screaming from all the straining you’ve been doing. Every roll of Ghost’s thumb over your clit sends sparks racing through your nerves, and your breathing is harsh and uneven as Ghost starts fucking you with the stupid vibrating dildo. The rhythm he sets is firm and unrelenting, pushing the silicone toy in and out and visibly relishing the wet squish of your cunt as it takes it deep.

Ghost huffs against the wet skin of your inner thigh, making you shudder. It seems like he’s enjoying this as much as you are, judging by the subtle roll of his hips against your mattress as he absorbs himself in fucking you with the dildo. 

He experiments with the angle, adjusting the dildo until you cry out, jerking against the bedding, and whining “There!”. You needn’t bother telling him, though; Ghost has a sharp eye, and he’s so goddamn attentive. He’s already repeating the stroke, pushing the dildo in and bumping it against the same sensitive spot he had hit before.

It feels good, but it’s not enough. Now that you’ve felt the firm hot pressure of his fingers spreading you wide and the wet hunger of his mouth devouring you, you don’t think anything else will do.

He shifts, you catch the rolls of his hips against your mattress again, and you feel as though you’ve caught fire. You think of the glimpse you had caught of his hard cock, pressing against his jeans and making the fabric stretch taut, and you find yourself speaking without thinking.

Ghost pushes the dildo in once more, and you reach down to grab at his wrist as you ask breathlessly, “Can I try yours?”

He pauses; goes so still that it’s honestly uncanny, his eyes practically boring holes into you as he stares at your face. You grow flustered, your own eyes widening in response to your own words. Just because he’s deigning to touch you with his fingers and his mouth, doesn’t mean he’s actually planning to fuck you. Jesus, he’s your fucking superior officer. What were you thinking?

“I’m sorry,” You squeak. “That wasn’t appropriate. Fuck, forget I said that–”

Even beneath the mask, you can see the bob of Ghost’s Adam's apple as he swallows thickly.

“You sure?” He interrupts your rambling before you can get started. “I don’t... ‘m not good with virgins.”

There’s… there’s so much you could say in response to that. Namely, he certainly doesn’t seem like he’s bad with virgins, as evidenced by the throb of arousal still pulsing through your soaked cunt. He’s just had you sobbing at the mercy of his fingers and mouth, and all he has to say when you ask for more is that he’s not good with virgins?

Instead, what you say is a rather lame, “I’m not technically a virgin.”

Which is true. Sort of. Based on a technicality – you had bullied your damn vibrator through your stupid hymen years ago, and you’ve always thought the idea of virginity was a stupid one, anyway. 

“Plastic cocks don’t count, darlin’.”

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed as humiliation burns through you. Jesus, okay. That’s just mortifying. 

“Oh, you think your cock is special, then?” You scoff, attempting nonchalance.

Ghost shifts, letting your legs drop from his shoulders, and kneels up on the mattress so that he’s looming over you. Fuck, every time you get a visceral reminder of how big he is, you feel a little faint. It’s like having a veritable wall of muscle caging you into your bed. Your thighs are spread wide to accommodate the size of him, and you find yourself absolutely captivated by the sight of him with his muscles straining against that stupid tight t-shirt, still panting lightly from his greedy gorging on your cunt.

He reaches out and drags a hand slowly from your cunt up over your belly, between your breasts, up over your sternum, to rest over your collarbones. It’s gentle – he doesn’t put an iota of pressure against your throat – but all you can fucking see is the swell of his bicep and the dark ink of his tattoo and the prominent veins running down the chiselled muscle of his forearm.

Good fucking lord.

“You’ll find out.” He says.

And oh. Okay then. Yeah, you sure fucking will.

He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, and you can’t help but strain to try and watch. He pushes them down carelessly around his thighs, but doesn’t make any move to strip them off any further. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re laying on the bed completely nude and exposed, while Ghost has only pushed his jeans down far enough to pull his cock out, but you don’t have any time to feel self-conscious about it.

His cock curves up against his belly, red and twitching. He’s fucking rock hard, and bigger than you had been expecting, bigger than any of your stupid little toys. Your mouth goes dry, and your eyes widen comically. Fuck. No wonder he’s confident. He’s not lacking in any way.

“D’you’ve a johnny?” He asks, one big paw of a hand taking his cock and stroking lazily at it until a bead of pearly precum oozes from the angry red head.

You’re distracted for a moment, staring at the way he fists his cock, before you blink back to yourself. “What?”

“A condom.” He enunciates slowly, as though speaking to someone he thinks is a bit thick.

“I know what you meant,” You snap, embarrassed. “But– no. Why would I? I’ve never…”

You can see the way his eyes crease and realise that he’s frowning beneath the mask, and you’re hit with a sudden bolt of panic – is he going to change his mind now? You can see the hesitation in the lines of his shoulders, but you think if he changes his mind about fucking you, you might just die.

“It doesn’t matter,” You blurt, “You don’t need one. I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

Ghost cocks his head, but remains still. It’s almost unnerving, and you feel your toes curl into the bedsheets as you wait for an answer. He looks fucking predatory, hulking over you like a fucking behemoth as he watches you assessingly. You try your best to look confident, but you have a feeling that you just look desperately hungry.

He reaches up and hooks his fingers into the fabric of his mask and pulls it back down to cover his still slick-shiny mouth and jaw, and you’re gripped with sudden overwhelming panic and dismay that he’s changed his mind, that he’s about to leave you here wet and empty and wanting. In that moment, you throw your dignity into the wind.

“Please,” You beg pathetically, wriggling a little bit against your sweat-damp bedding in an effort to grind yourself against him. “Please, please, it’s fine, I swear, you don’t need one–”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost grinds out, his voice rough and a little hoarse. “How can a virgin be such a fuckin’ slut?”

Some part of you wonders if you should be offended by that, but instead a frisson of heat runs down your spine. You know you’re not a slut – you’ve never searched for any sexual attention, and you’ve never even experienced someone else’s touch – but goddamn you want to be a slut for your lieutenant right now.

Despite his harsh words, when Ghost hooks your legs over his hips and aligns himself with you, he’s gentle. He’s acting like you’re something fragile; he’s so big that your legs are spread wide around his waist, his shoulders so broad that he’s blocking out the dim light from your lamp, and yet his touch is light against you as though he’s afraid to break you.

He’s still gripping his cock hard, and he slides the tip of it against your slick heat. You have a brief moment of alarm; even through the haze of arousal, you can recognise that this is going to be a tight fit. You breathe deeply, then begin to wiggle your hips in an effort to take him inside you.

He hisses, then one of his big hands grabs at your hip. “Fuck, stay still.”

“Put it in.” You beg, your voice coming out thick and stupid-sounding. “Fuck, please, c’mon, c’mon–”

“Kid,” Ghost bites out through clenched teeth, his voice low and gritty. “Need you to shut the fuck up for me.”

You manage to bite down on your lip, but you can’t stop yourself from pouting mopily at him with wide, wet eyes. You don’t understand why he’s making you wait – can’t he see how mean he’s being? You’re so fucking wet, so empty as you clench down on nothing, and your clit is so desperate for any kind of stimulation that it’s throbbing needily. The head of his cock catches at your opening, dipping in for a second before resuming its maddening slide up and down.

Ghost is still watching you closely, his brown eyes flickering from where the head of his cock drags through your sodden folds up to your pleading pouting expression. You can only imagine what kind of a sight you make, because his chest growls with a choked sort of groan.

“I know,” He murmurs, almost mockingly soft with you. “I know, you want it. Gotta give it to you slowly.”

You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to give it to you slowly, that he can go as fast and hard as he wants to, but some sense of self-preservation shuts you up. Instead, you nod clumsily as he rubs his cock over the slick folds of your cunt, lubing himself up with your own arousal. The feeling of his cock dragging over you, iron hard and velvety soft, so close to where you want it, is enough to have your head spinning dizzily.

You want to beg again, but you’re still trying to follow his order to be silent. You shift restlessly, biting back a whimper when he taps his cock thoughtfully against your clit.

Finally, he decides to put you out of your misery. 

The thick crown of his cock pushes against the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your cunt, and the gasp you let out is positively punched out of you. He goes slow, just like he promised, but you can still hardly believe it. He goes in and in and in, and yet he’s somehow not even halfway inside. 

“Fuck,” You wheeze, punctuated by a strange little yowl. “Oh god, wait–”

You feel stuffed just from the first few inches, drunk already on the quiet little grunts he’s making. The stretch and the sting and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him and you can’t even decide if it’s good or if it’s too much. Your eyes are hot and wet as overwhelmed tears begin to overflow, and you find yourself arching in a weak attempt to flex away from him and the devastating stretch.

God, he’s massive. You knew he would be, of course, but his size seems so much more significant when you’re being impaled on the end of his cock. Fuck, you can feel your vision go blurry as your eyes fill with overwhelmed tears. You’re mortified when a sob is ripped from your chest, harsh and thick.

“Shh, shh.” Ghost coos, his deep voice syrupy thick as he leans over you, the enormous bulk of him caging you into the mattress until your whole world consists only of him. “Just a little bit more.”

“Fuck,” You choke out, trying to arch away again but failing because he’s so big that there’s nowhere to go. “It’s not gonna fit!”

“Shh, lovie,” He rumbles, ducking his face down so that the rough cotton of his mask is pressed against the sweaty skin of your neck. “Relax’n let me in.”

“I– ‘m trying–” You whine, clutching at his biceps. “Jesus–”

You blink your eyes open, vision blurry from the tears clumping your lashes together, only to be met with the sight of Ghost’s deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath the black mask. He’s looming above you, his gaze made all the more intense by the fact that it’s the only part of his face you can really see.

“All that messin’ around with those plastic cocks, but you’re still this tight for me,” He says, his voice so deep that you feel it reverberate into your bones. “Deep breath.”

The breath you inhale at his instruction is rough and ragged, and he snorts a low breathless laugh in response.

When he finally drives his cock all the way in with one smooth stroke, all the breath is driven from your lungs. It feels as though his cock has been pressed all the way up into your chest, and the noise you make when you squirm on it is utterly pathetic. 

Ghost’s hands are like steel clamps when they close around the plump flesh of your thighs, holding them up and pressing them back until they’re pressed against your belly. He looms over you, still almost entirely clothed as sweat beads over his thickly muscled neck. It’s like getting pinned down by a mountain, and you whimper as you’re speared open and prone by the weight of Ghost pressing down upon you.

He hasn’t even started to move yet, but you still feel overfull and raw.

“Too big,” You mumble, struggling to catch your breath. You choke on a sob and feel your eyes burn with unshed tears as your back arches. “Ghost–!”

“Shh.” He grunts. “Call me Simon when I fuck you.”

That… that does something to you. Molten heat rockets up your spine and pools in your belly, and you swear your pussy floods. It’s stupid, how being granted permission to call your lieutenant by his first name is somehow so much hotter than anything else he’s done so far.

“Simon,” You try it out. It comes out a little shaky, your voice little more than a weak whisper, but you swear you can see his eyes sharpen. 

Apparently having come to the decision that you’ve adjusted enough, Ghost pulls his hips back only to drive back in. 

“Oh!” You yelp, hips jumping, but there’s nowhere to go. 

All you can do is lie there as he slides out, out, out, slow and careful and long, and then his hips snap forward and he impales you, pressing all the way into him. He does it again, and again, and you try to bite down on your tongue, try to not sound so pathetically wrecked, but you can’t. It’s like Ghost is puncturing your lungs and every time he fucks into you, you let out the most pathetic little mewling ah ah ah sounds.

You’re not quite prepared for how different this feels; it’s nothing like your stupid plastic dildo. Ghost’s cock is bigger, but it’s also hotter and with more give than you expected, and you’ve never been able to fuck yourself like this. Your plastic toys could never compare to the sensation of being pinned by your giant of a lieutenant as he ruts into you.

Ghost reaches up and roughly pushes his mask up so his mouth is exposed again before he leans in deeper, almost folding you cleanly in half, stretching in to claim your mouth in a kiss that’s not quite a kiss, but rather a fierce mash of lips and tongue as his rhythm picks up, riding you down into the mattress until you realised the screaming noise isn’t coming from either one of you, but the cheap standard issue bed frame.

All you can do is gasp with each deep, raw fuck. There are tears tracking lazily down your cheeks, having overflowed from your burning eyes, and you honestly think your lungs might collapse. You’re bent like a fucking pretzel, in a way that’s making the muscles in your thighs scream, as Ghost pounds into you. 

He’s fucking relentless, but also shockingly aware of you beneath him. He doesn’t put too much pressure on you when he holds you, he never goes hard enough to hurt, and he knows just the right amount of weight to pin you down without being too much.

Your pussy is sloppy around him, wet squishing noises getting louder and louder as he finds more rhythm against your tight walls. Your whole world of awareness has been narrowed down to Ghost and Ghost only; his fingers digging into your thighs, your name in his mouth, his sweltering body pressing against yours. 

He’s holding back, you can tell by the way his voice is caught in his throat. He’s keeping all his dangerous muscles at bay as he pulls out and presses in again. Rough, fast, but not enough to break you, just enough to make you scream until you bury your face to the side and try to cover your mouth with your arm.

“Yeah, you needed this,” Ghost grunts, his uncovered mouth nipping at the hinge of your jaw. “This’s why you were so fuckin’ distracted earlier, hm? You thinkin’ about how much you needed to cream around a real cock?”

“Uh huh, yeah,” You slur out, not even sure what you’re agreeing with. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, every nerve in your body raw and sparking. You must sound so pathetic, but Ghost seems to like it.

“Ain’t gonna be distracted anymore, are ya?” He rumbles, laving his tongue over your jaw in a way that feels filthy. “Just needed your little pussy filled, that’s all.”

You cry out for him because you can’t help it, delight bubbling in your throat every time he plunges into you. He keeps his pace for a bit, all rushed and blazing, transfixed on watching you suck him in, leaving slick trails along his shaft. But gradually he gets bolder, more desperate, big hands squeezing from your thighs to your hips.

You get lost in the feeling of him in your belly, searing and harsh, fat tip rolling against the spongy spot inside of you until you feel like you might snap. You feel him in your ears, your head pounding with every snap of his hips. You swear you even feel him in your toes, lightning zaps of pleasure down your nerves.

Then he leans back, lifting his weight off of you so you can breathe properly. He leaves his hand on your collarbones like a placeholder, his palm spread over the base of your throat like a reminder, a way to keep your attention on him. 

“Fuck,” He grits out, “That’s it, doll.”

You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Ghost’s gaze has shifted, no longer focused on your face but now instead fixed firmly between your legs as he watches the thick shaft of his cock sink into you. He obviously likes how you feel inside; you can hear him cursing and grunting quietly as his free hand grips your hip for leverage. 

With his mask rumpled up around his nose, you’re gifted with an incredible view of the way his teeth are sunk into his lower lip. Each time he sinks his cock into you again, he makes a raspy little groan, eyes fluttering briefly shut. It’s so painfully endearing that your heart quivers in your chest.

Your legs burn from being spread around his thick waist — any attempt for you to lock them around his back is useless, your legs slipping everytime his ass flexes with his thrusts. Every hasty drive of his hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time he ruts into you. With every sudden movement you feel the entirety of his fat cock; the veins are throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. Part of you marvels how you’re even able to fit him inside you.

“Never seen you look like this,” he grunts. “All fucked-out and perfect.”

Ghost leans in again, grips your legs so he can rearrange them over his shoulders, and you think you might die. The angle is different and somehow, impossibly, Ghost is fucking into you even deeper. You think you might actually be crying. There’s no question as to whether you’re drooling.

Your hands move to his arms, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his triceps as you cling on for dear life. He doesn’t even seem to notice the sting of your nails scratching him; or perhaps it only urges him on, because his movements take on an edge of desperation.

“Gorgeous girl,” He grits out, jaw clenched. “Squeezin’ so tight. Fuck. Gonna make you cream.”

 You had forgotten about his promise to make you come, too lost in the hazy pleasure of his cock. But now it seems as though he’s been seized by the compulsion to fuck you to the edge; he reaches a hand down so that his thumb can join the fray, and it startles you into moaning breathlessly aloud. 

His thumb is merciless against your clit. You’re vulnerable to his touch, clit spread and on display from the stretch of his thick cock inside of you, and he takes full advantage. His fingers are thick and blistering hot as he rubs at you, and you choke as your toes curl.

“Simon–” You manage to eke out before you lose the weak thread of your thoughts, scattering into nothing as he stimulates the stiff bead of your clit. 

He grunts to show that he’s heard you, but he doesn’t seem any more capable of words than you are as he rocks into the cradle of your hips. You’re practically blinded by your wet eyes, blinking frantically to try and clear your vision as you reach out clumsily to throw your arms around Ghost’s blisteringly hot neck.

It feels as though your skin is stretched too tight over your body, hot and prickly and too much. You’re trembling, your breaths coming in shaky gasps as agonising pressure builds in your lower belly. 

“Fuck, love.” Ghost says, his voice little more than a snarl. “You gonna come?”

No, You think hazily. No, you never come. But even as you think it, part of you recognises that it’s never felt like this before. Your stomach tightens, toes curling, your lungs burning, your eyes rolling. You hardly even know what’s happening.

You recognise that something is building, but it almost seems secondary to the way that Ghost is rutting into you like a man possessed, hitting that spongey spot in the back of your pussy that you’ve never managed to reach yourself and making your legs spasm every time even as his thick thumb rubs frantic circles around the bump of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck–” You wheeze, bucking your hips against him.

It doesn’t grow and dissipate in the way you’re used to. Rather, it creeps up on you almost without you noticing, until you’re whimpering and clinging to Ghost like he’s a lifeline. Your bottom lip trembles as you sob weakly, practically on the brink of diving into an oncoming tidal wave of desire. Then that coil in your stomach snaps like a rubber band, sudden and sharp as a slap to the face. 

Your back arches, your vision whites out, and you cum so hard that the world stops, your ears ring, your body goes limp. Your cunts sucks tight around him, pulsing, feeling every inch of him. It feels so sweet, that white-hot buzzing pleasure rushing over you and wiping your brain completely clean. 

You’re a little delirious from being stuffed with such a fat cock; every thrust just prolongs your pleasure, like his penetration keeps you from squeezing your very first orgasm out right away. It’s mindless ecstasy, your nails burrowing into the skin of his biceps as you desperately clutch at him for some kind of leverage. Ghost doesn’t falter, his hips continuing to work into you, wringing your orgasm out until you feel as though your brain is melting.

You sob – an actual, genuine, wet-sounding sob as your chest heaves for air and your eyes burn with overwhelmed, rapturous tears. Your head is spinning even as your climax subsides, leaving you limp-limbed and weak as Ghost continues rocking into you.

“Look so lovely when you come, sweetheart,” Ghost grunts into your ear, his bulky chest weighing you down as you clutch feebly at his shoulders. “God, that’s a sight. All for me, yeah?”

His praise only makes it worse, makes your eyes sting until there’s tears down your cheeks and stars behind your eyelids. He sounds so smug, but you can’t deny that he has reason to be. He’s the first man to ever touch you, first man to ever fuck you, the first person to ever tip you over the edge and wring an orgasm out of you. Fuck, you think your brain might have been reduced to mush permanently; you wonder wildly if you’ll ever be the same after this.

Despite the sting of Ghost’s punishing thrusts into your already oversensitive cunt, your body sings for him. The rhythm of his hips is getting gradually sloppier, as though he doesn’t care as much for precision now that he’s succeeded in making you come. Soft, guttural little grunts fall from his mouth, and his arms wrap around your waist to reposition you so that he can fuck quick and shallow. It’s almost tender, as though he’s aware of your growing sensitivity as you mewl under him.

There’s a profound, instinctual pleasure in seeing Ghost lose himself in your embrace. His dark eyes are heavy-lidded and his mask is still all rucked up, revealing the way his mouth is lolled softly open as he pants. You find yourself wishing feverishly that he had taken off his clothes too, because you think you would give anything to watch the roiling muscles of his chest and shoulders as he ruts into you.

Then just when you think you’re beginning to recover from the shattering, mind-numbing oversensitivity, Ghost comes inside of you.

He stops rutting to ride out his orgasm, his cock throbbing, pulsing, spurting inside you until you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt. And he comes a lot. 

You’re stuffed so tightly with his cock that his cum has nowhere to go, and ends up leaking thickly from where your cunt grips around him, messy and hot and spilling over your thighs and his. The sound he makes is breathless, all open-mouth and head lolled back as he groans, blissed out as he finds release in your cunt. 

The minutes afterwards are a blur. 

You close your eyes for what feels like only a second, but the next time you blink your eyes open you find yourself feeling miserably, uncomfortably empty and sticky as all that oozy cum leaks out of you. You somehow missed Ghost pulling out of you, and your thoughts are muzzy and embarrassingly slow.

For a moment, you think you’re alone. You’re becoming more aware of yourself, and you realise that you’re shivering weakly alone in your sweat-damp sheets. Where did Ghost go? Part of you, still a little hazy, wonders if he had left you alone as soon as he had come, and you feel your lower lip tremble at the thought. 

God, you feel pathetic. You shift feebly on the sheets, and suck in a sharp breath when you feel the ache inside you, proof that you’re going to feel the shadow of Ghost’s cock for days. You feel drunk off the afterglow, yet you’re swiftly becoming more and more aware of yourself and all the aches and pains that are coming to the fore now.

It feels like you’re too big for your body, and you’re clumsy when you try to sit up. Pushing yourself up makes a whole new set of aches light up, and you let out a quiet keening grumble.

You’re so caught up with trying to ground yourself that you jolt in surprise when big, paw-like hands land on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. “Shh, hey, lay down.” Ghost says, the rough edges of his accent softened. To your bewilderment, he has a damp cloth in his hand; he went to the bathroom, you realise hazily.

Maybe it’s just because you feel raw after your experience with him, pulsing like an open nerve, but you sniffle and blink and then suddenly there are tears dripping down your face.

“Thought you left.” You mumble, trying not to sound like a needy little idiot.

Ghost glances up at you, unblinkingly. His mask is fixed firmly back in place, and he looks annoyingly put-together; it’s an embarrassingly stark contrast to the way you’re still nude and shivery and teary-eyed.

“No.” He says simply.

The damp cloth is warm when it makes contact with your skin, and you relax as he drags it along your sweaty back and over your legs. He’s a little rough about it, but you don’t think it’s on purpose. Gentleness doesn’t come naturally to Simon Riley, and yet you can feel that he’s trying and that makes a warm glow settle in your stomach, replacing the cold anxiety that had settled in when you thought that he had left you alone.

When the cloth reaches the tender skin of your pussy, you hiss and try to pull away. It all feels too sensitive, and you feel your face crumple up as he wipes away the mess of slick and cum between your thighs. He gentles his touch as much as he can, but you still mewl at the electric zaps of oversensitivity that jolt up your spine.

When Ghost pauses and pulls the cloth away from you, you blink your eyes awake. Your vision is still all wet and blurry from tears, but you can still see the shape of Ghost as he stares down at you. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, even after having been cleaned up, and Ghost’s stare is burning.

You wonder if he’s about to leave now – you can recognise this whole thing had gotten out of hand, and you just about manage to stifle the panic at the creeping realisation that you’ve just fucked your superior officer. Ghost must have realised at this point that the two of you had just ripped through all those fraternisation rules, though it’s always been difficult to tell what he’s thinking. But you trust him – you have to, in your line of work. You have to trust that he’ll handle things.

Ghost tosses aside the cloth, and his big overbearing body climbs back into bed beside you. It’s a standard-issue bunk, and yet it feels comically tiny when Ghost has been added to the mix. He’s surprisingly agile, even despite his big size, and you barely have time to realise that he’s joining you in bed before he’s wrapped a thick arm around your middle, hauling you closer.

You’d love to act chill and cool about the fact that he’s now essentially cuddling you, but you miss the mark by a long mile. You take a breath, and allow yourself to relax into his big burly chest. He’s still fully clothed, and the rough texture of his jeans against your tender bare skin makes you shiver lightly from oversensitivity.

Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, your joints weak and watery, and you’re perfectly content to close your eyes and forcibly ignore all your concerns about fraternisation or how you’re going to face Ghost in training. It’s a problem for another time.

“You still alive?” Ghost grunts, and his palm coasts down over your back to settle at your ass, his fingers squeezing absent-mindedly into the soft flesh there.

He sounds amused, which makes you grumble in irritation. He takes up so much space, his big body filling up all the free space on the bed and making you feel so fucking small as he holds you so that your back is pressed against his stomach.

“I dunno,” You mumble, words a little garbled. “Think… think you might have fucked me stupid, Lt.”

Lying like this, with his front pressed against your back, you can feel his laugh rumble into you. He’s touchy too in a way that surprises you; his hands are constantly moving, swiping over your sides and groping at any part of you that’s squishy-soft.

“Think I might have,” He agrees, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “But I think you needed it, sweetheart. You were practically cryin’ out for it all day.”

You feel your face heat at the insinuation that he had noticed the arousal you thought you had hidden so well. But you still feel so fuzzy inside, and you can’t manage to drum up any genuine reaction.

Ghost’s roaming hand slips down between your legs, and you hold your breath as he reaches your swollen, tender pussy. His fingers are so big, but he’s aware of his strength and keeps his touch light, cupping rather than groping, his calloused palm catching on your puffy clit.

“Told you a real cock would be better,” He rumbles, and you feel the soft material of his mask rubbing against the back of your sweaty neck. “You’ve got a fussy little cunt – ‘s only gonna be satisfied by the real thing.”

You’d love to jab back at him, but the feeling of him rough palm against your oversensitive clit has your thoughts fizzing out into nothingness. All you can do is let out a quiet little whimper, and rock your hips into his touch. To your utter bewilderment, you feel your arousal, which you had previously considered entirely sated, pulse back to life.

As if Ghost can feel your cunt throb beneath his hand, he snickers. “Yeah. Fussy and greedy.”

He leans down, and you feel his lips brush against the back of your neck through the cotton of his balaclava. You quiver, and part your legs without conscious thought to give his thick fingers more room to work. Despite your exhaustion, and your soreness, and your sensitivity, you find yourself wanting. You wonder, with an edge of hysteria, if your body has somehow managed to rewire itself to only accept pleasure from your commanding officer’s hand.

“Ghost– Simon–” You breathe, your hips jumping as you grind into his palm.

“Yeah,” He says again, as though he knows exactly what you need and want. “One little orgasm wasn’t enough, was it?”

“No.” You choke out, throwing your head back so that it’s resting against Ghost’s broad chest. “No, ‘t wasn’t.”

You can hardly believe that your body is winding up for more, but Ghost’s touch is searing hot against your tender skin, and you can already taste the pleasure he’s going to bring you. This time, without the edge of urgency, you think you might even enjoy it more.

“Gimme five minutes,” He drawls, his voice low and muffled in your ear. “And I’ll give you your second.”

[itsvicreads]

Omg I just had an idea where you could write Spencer wearing his glasses and reader just going absolutely feral about them and he’s confused about it until she’s all like “pls keep the glasses on while you fuck me” and then smut ensues…

this post is 18+

spencer gasped into your mouth as you backed him into your bedroom door, you were kissing him like your life depended on it and unbuckling his pants when you hadn’t even made it into the room yet.

he manages to get the bedroom door opened and stumble back into the room, all with your hand shoved down his pants while you rubbed his hardened cock. spencer’s skin is flushed when he pulls back, both from the lack of oxygen and the arousal spreading through his body like a fire.

he’s both extremely turned on and extremely confused, you’d pounced on him the second he walked through the front door and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had gotten you so worked up.

“why- what’s gotten into you?” his eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. you pulled his shirt off and tossed it somewhere in the room.

you walked him back into the bed and gently shoved him back, you climbed on top of him and started to rock your hips. you pressed your lips to his jaw and moved down to his neck, you started to make small marks on his flushed skin.

spencer grasped at your hips as a soft moan fell from his lips. you ran your hands over his chest causing him to jolt from the coldness of your hands on his hot skin.

when you sat up, spencer brought his hand up and started to take his glasses—that had fogged up so much he couldn’t see— off and set them aside. “put them back on.”

“baby, they’re fogged up and they-mmph” his lips parted with a whimper as you started back rocking your hips, you ran your hands over his chest and gently pinched his nipples. “they might break.”

“want you to wear them while you fuck me, please, spence?” you pouted, spencer looked up at your desperate eyes and couldn't help but put his glasses back on. you slid off of his lap and pushed down your shorts and panties and pulled your shirt off, spencer started to push his pants and boxers down his legs.

he bit his lip when you climbed back onto his lap, his cock twitched at the feeling of your wet cunt dragging over it. spencer gripped at your hips and watched you take ahold of his cock and line it up with his entrance, his head fell back when you eased down on his cock and the feeling of your tight cunt enveloped him.

you kept your eyes on him the entire time you rode his cock, watching the way his face twisted up in pleasure and the way his lips parted as sounds of pleasure escaped him. you leaned down to kiss him and started to lift your hips faster. eventually, neither of you could kiss each other so you ended up just breathing and moaning against each other's lips, causing spencers glasses to fog up even more.

spencers hips stuttered up to meet your thrusts, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled your body flush to his. you tucked your head in his neck and gently bit down on his shoulder, you were probably the most turned on you’d been in a while.

spencer moved his hands to grab at your ass as he cock twitched, he held onto you tighter as he filled your cunt with his cum.

“fuck-“ he gasped, his hips slowed down as he came down from his orgasm. you started to lift your hips again, chasing your release much like spencer had done. your walls fluttered around his cock as you got closer and closer to coming, you shifted your hips and the new angle caused the head of spencer cock to brush against your spot.

your orgasm knocked the breath out of your lungs, you whined and whimpered against spencer’s skin as you came. spencer’s grip on you loosened and you slumped down further into.

“i need you to wear those glasses more often.” you mumble into his neck, spencer breathed out a small chuckle and gave your thigh a light squeeze.

“will do.”

[itsvicreads]

Sex Pollen — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

girl dinner since my König sex pollen has over 900 notes♡

"That's it, love..." Ghost growls out as he pushes your hips up and down slowly, your warm, wet cunt engulfing his thick dick as his hips thrust up to meet you halfway. Your womb is already full of his cum, yet Ghost is unable to stop, each orgasm seemed to just be making his cock harder and his balls tighter. Being all the way inside you felt too damn good.

"So pretty like this, sweet girl... like you were made to take my fuckin' cock all the way inside that tight little cunt." He muttered between clenched teeth, trying his best not to cum inside you yet. For the first time in his life, Ghost was willingly having sex, and oh God, he can't believe he has been missing out on this. His thrusts were slow and deep, making sure to put your pleasure before his, hitting all the right spots with his fat cock.

"Ghost...—" His name being moaned out by you felt like music to his ears, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips got tighter, pushing you faster up and down his dick as your tight walls gripped him, a mix of your cream and his cum coating his length, making a ring on the base of it. Though his face was concealed by the balaclava, you can see his expressive eyes focused completely on your face, basking in the pretty faces you make when you're cock-drunk. You already forgot how many orgasms he's pulled out of you, yet it all feels too damn good to ask him to stop, even when your cunt is abused and fucked-out.

"Fuck— angel, let me cum in you." He pleads for your consent, just as he did the last four times he came inside. "Want to fill you up so good, baby, please." Ghost's eyes roll to the back of his head as you give him your approval, groaning and grunting as he begins to thrust harder and deeper into you, his gloved hands pulling your hips all the way down so his cock is completely inside you as his thick, warm cum fills your womb up.

[itsvicreads]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ make up⠀ 〳 ⠀ j.todd ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) even after a harsh argument, he still finds his way back at your door.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reading discretion is advised: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy, written with black reader in mind, same y/n & jason from this one shot, profanity, angst (implied argument between reader and jason), mentions of bruises/cuts, jason meets reader's parents in this, him asking whose is it was extremely self indulgent ok, pet names (baby, listen you guys can't unclench this pet name out my hand when it comes to jason), mentions of children, reader and jason make up after an argument in reader's childhood bedroom lol, soft smut yay, oral (f.receiving), missionary position, i guess slight mating press positon, breeding kink (try to unclench this kink away from and i'll bite you), wc: 3.6k, minors dni pls

YOUR ARGUMENTS NEVER DRAGGED OUT LIKE THIS. They were always little and ended with mumbled apologies and hush kisses after heated words. However, this argument left the most hideous knot in your stomach whenever your mind wandered off to think about it. You never went over two days not speaking to your boyfriend Jason, it was never in the both of your nature to not at least hear each other voice. Even if it was for a split second, the two of you always found a way to talk to each other. Perhaps that's why these past couple of days have been rough for you.

A simple disagreement about communication was an explosive time bomb that caused you to question where your own relationship stood at the moment. You found your eyes watering thinking about how upset Jason was before storming out of your apartment. The sound of the door slamming still played in your head like a horrendous loop of a chilling Halloween tune. One day turned into two days and two days turned into three—still no word of him. Your pride not wanting to message him since you weren't even sure he understood why you were so frustrated at him.

"Hey sweetheart, I can't wait until you and Jason get here. I know you said, he didn't have any specific request for dinner tonight, but I think I went a little overboard" You remembered your mom saying before you left to venture towards your childhood home.

You had forgotten all about Jason meeting your parents this weekend. You couldn't even come up with an excuse on why he wasn't coming. If you told them that you and he were taking a break, your parents would most likely not like him. So, here you were showing up with just yourself and some excuse on behalf of Jason. Maybe you can say his grandfather got sick? Had to babysit his younger brother? Anything to avoid any other curious questions from your parents. Praying that within your time of not seeing them for a while, they would no longer be able to read you like a book similar to when you were a teenager.

However, the time has come, and here you were sitting at the dinner table—alone and with silence swallowing you and your parents up bit by bit. You sipped at your wine nervously before it was your mom addressing the elephant in the room of your missing boyfriend that you spent the past couple of weeks gloating about how excited you were for him to finally meet them. Your mother's lips parted to speak, but the sound of the doorbell interjected in her concerning words for you.

"I'll get it," Your father firmly said before he's standing to go answer the door.

As soon as your father was out of sight, your mom leaned over a bit to get a closer look at you. She took note of the way you were avoiding her direct eye contact, "Sweetie, did something happen between you and Jason?" Her hands reach over to caress your hand.

"You know you can speak to me about anything," She comforts you like the way she did during your first high school breakup.

You were trying so hard not to cry. Your eyes were aching to let a tear finally come tumbling down your cheeks simply because you missed him. But the sound of a familiar laugh causes your head to snap towards the entry of the dining room. There he stood with a black eye a bruised lip and that stupid grin he always gives you. Jason Todd.

"I apologize for being late," Jason says as he placed a kiss on the top of your head before taking the seat next to you at the dinner table.f

You could tell that your mom was suspicious of Jason, her eyes darting from you who had plastered a smile on your face, and back to Jason. He managed to butter your father up with some joke and an expensive bottle of scotch you were sure Jason probably snagged from Bruce when Alfred wasn't around. "I just got caught up with work." He says.

Your mom darkly chuckles. You wanted to mentally roll your eyes at the way the kind sweet welcome basket-making mom went away with a quickness. Now, the protective mother lion attempting to protect her cub demeanor was on. "Work? Huh? What exactly do you do?" She asks.

"Jesus! At least let the kid put food on his plate first." Your dad sighs with a head shake.

Jason returned the chuckle and gave your mom a grin. You weren't sure what excuse he was going to give her. You just knew the true occupation would have your parents banning you were seeing Jason as if you were Rapunzel herself.

Jason motions to the bruises that decorated his face like a used art canvas. "Boxing." He said with a grin.

You watched your mom shift in her seat. It was as if she was searching for if he was telling the truth or not. You wanted to tell her that this trick only worked on yourself and your father, but you just sat back passing whatever food Jason's eyes lit up seeing. After all, your mom did cook all of this for him. As soon as his plate was full, he dug it. He had a quite large appetite.

"So, are you pro or trying to become pro?" Your father asked as he was eating also.

You knew anything about sports would get your dad excited. He used to coach your high school basketball team.

"I'm trying to, hence the fact that I was late. I want to apologize again for that, I know this was very important for you two and Y/N." His eyes glances over you before you could feel him grabbing your hand under the table.

Could he sense that you were beyond out of it at the moment? Your mind was racing with so many questions? He just showed up after the two of you haven't talked for days. Eating with your family like the two of you haven't shared severe words towards each other.

"No need to apologize, she seems happy that you came and that's all that matters." Your mom answered before her lips finally curve into a smile. "She talks so much about you that we just had to meet the guy that has our daughter so lovestruck in Gotham." She pushes around the vegetables on her plate.

"Hopefully, she has only told you good things," Jason says.

"You know the usual. He's so cute. I really think I love him. We'll make such cute babies...the usual things." Your mom says.

"I didn't say the last thing." You said out loud.

"So, you don't think you and I will make cute babies?" Jason playfully nudges your shoulder. "Come on, they'll have the most cutest nose because they'll have your nose and my eyes." He says with a grin.

There goes that grin again. That grin causes your body to instantly heat up and all the blood to rush to your cheeks. Despite being so confused about the situation, you still returned the smile that you were trying so hard to hold back. "I didn't say that. It's just, I haven't mentioned anything about babies to her. The other statements are true though."

Jason laughs, "I know."

You could feel the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on your palm. How can he make you feel at home even though you were technically in your childhood home? He made you feel so safe and cherished.

The night went on with Jason wooing the hearts of your parents. He had a drink with your father in your father's study, most likely giving Jason the somewhat-threatening threat in case Jason broke your heart. Jason even helped your mom put away the leftover food that was left. As soon as the moon peaked through the curtains of the house, it was time for everyone to call it a night. You got ready for bed after showering, most likely settling in bed to go to sleep. You knew your mom would purposely have her book club ladies at the house the following morning just so she can show off her future son-in-law.

As you were in bed reading a book, you could hear Jason come into your room after showering. He's rubbing a towel through his damp dark locs while a white towel was wrapped around his waist hiding away his lower half you have seen countless times. You hated to admit that your curious eyes glanced up from the romanticized words in your book to peek at him while he was looking through his suitcase for something to wear to bed. Droplets of water staining his toned chest followed by the glorious site of happy trail—that went so well with the well-sculptured v-line that was on display.

Your lip grazed at your chapstick-covered lips before you realized you were staring. You quickly averted your eyes back to your book, but your attention was tugged away once again due to Jason's words.

"I'm sorry, that argument we had was so fuckin' stupid." He admitted. His back was turned from you, but you knew he had a look of regret on his face. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

"It's okay. I figured you were sorry as soon as you came here. If you wouldn't have shown up, I would have assumed our relationship was done." You truthfully admitted.

Jason turned around and the look of horror that was on his face caught you off guard. You could even see his lip twitch in annoyance at you even thinking about the mere thought of you two breaking up. "Please, never think about something like that." He takes a couple of steps to be by your side.

"We'll figure it out, we'll talk it out. That's what we do." He firmly said.

And that was true. Every argument, you two figured it out. You sat down and communicated with each other. Perhaps this argument just got a little too heated due to the overwhelming amounts of stress on both ends. With Jason and his Red Hood activities and your life at work, it was bound for both of you two explode like a ticking time bomb. You just exploded at each other though.

“I know.” Your voice trails off as you looked down. Finally realizing that your argument was silly, could have been resolved if the two of you weren’t so stubborn.

Jason’s tall stature is hovering over you before he’s lifting your face up to look at him. “Don’t have such a down face.” He’s leaning down peppering your face with subtle kisses gaining a giggle from you.

"Jason, stop! Your towel is going to drop." You said through your faint giggles.

"Let it," Jason responded before he entrapped your lips.

His kiss forced you to fall back on your bed, your body pushing yourself further on it to give Jason space to climb on top of you, which he did with a quickness while being sure to not squish you with his weight. Through subtle breaks between the kisses, you’re mumbling against Jason’s lips. “I missed you so much.” 

It was true. The days without him not being next to you in bed felt empty & quiet. You missed the warmth of being in his arms after a long day. You missed his soft grumbles while he was sleeping so close to you not wanting to let go. You just missed him.

“We miss you too baby,” Jason spoke back against your lips. 

His tongue is stained with the taste of mint toothpaste traces alongside the outline of your lower lip. You could even feel him grind against you a bit, feeling the imprint of his hardened cock against the inside of your thigh. That’s what he meant when he said we. 

Your hand slipped between the two of your bodies, gracefully brushing against his heated skin to tug the towel down. Your hand grazed against his hardened cock causing him to tug away to let out a relaxed sigh. Jason begins to kiss your neck, indulging in the scent of you that he missed so much. His hand grabbed ahead of yours which was so desperate to make him feel good. He pinned them above your head and kissed his way back to your kiss-swollen lips.

He mumbles against your delicate skin, "I want to make you feel good."

His callous fingertips danced down your body until they found their way into your underwear. The oversized t-shirt that once belonged to Jason was pushed up just so he could have better access to you and what was his. He hooked his fingers upon your underwear to tug them down your smooth legs. Tossing the piece of fabric so carelessly behind him before he kneeled down. His hand tugged you closer to the edge of the bed. His lips pressed teasing kisses on the inside of your thigh.

He was so eager to get a taste of you and you could tell by how eager his kisses got as he got closer to your drooling cunt. You relaxed under his touch when you finally felt his face fully in between your thighs. Your breath instantly hitched in your throat feeling the way Jason's tongue glided against your puffy lips. Your hand instantly went to grasp for his hair as felt the wet kisses upon your sensitive bud. "Jason, stop the teasin' please." You whimpered out.

You gained a hum from your boyfriend as he made direct eye contact while he was letting the flat of his tongue collect all your juices before he was back paying attention to his task. His eyes closed as if he wanted to focus on making sure you came. Each time you attempted to squirm away from him, his arms only pinned you back down forcing you to endure him. After all, he hasn't had a taste of you in a while—it's the least you could do.

As soon as you felt his tongue trace alongside your sopping entrance of your pussy, you felt yourself rocking upon his face in the most pornographic manner. You prompt yourself up on your shoulder assuring Jason how well he was making you feel. The fiery pit that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach was slowly approaching. The only thing you could let out was the moans that encourage Jason some more. "Don't stop Jason, I'm so close." You panted out.

As soon as he heard them words, Jason's tongue begin to rapidly flicker at your clit. He insert his index and middle fingers and his dick appeared to grow harder feeling how wet you were. His fingers weren't shy to make you feel just as good as his mouth. He was sure to pump them inside you at the pace you loved. He felt you tighten around his finger, but that didn't stop Jason from removing himself from between your thighs. Your body shook so violently while your hips rocked against Jason riding out your drastic orgasm. You exhaled sharply letting out a dragged-out moan of pleasure and as soon as Jason's mouth was no longer on you—you felt so empty.

"Gosh, you look so beautiful like this," said Jason as he was letting his tongue glide across his lips collecting any more of you that stained his mouth.

Jason was a very passionate lover at times. It all depended on his mood and the situation. Tonight, you couldn't tell which side you were going to get. But from the way he left you a panting disaster after being in between your thighs—you knew he wanted to prove something to you. Perhaps he missed you during the days you two weren't speaking. As Jason climbed on top of you, his hand lining himself up at your soaked entrance, his tip that oozed with precum teasingly brushed against you.

Before your lips parted to mumble a sarcastic complaint, Jason's cock shoved its way inside you bit by bit shutting you up completely. Your head sank into the pillow under your head and your hand flew up to grasp at Jason, "It's okay baby, you just haven't had my dick in you in a while." He cooed down at you.

By his cocky tone, you weren't sure if he was praising you or mocking you. He leaned down to pepper your face with soft kisses, "I'm going to start movin', okay?" He adds.

Jason begins to move slowly. He didn't want to hurt you or anything, so until now his strokes were slow and steady. It kinda felt like the first time you two had made love. You remembered the vivid memory of when Jason first said I love you. It took you by shock because you weren't even sure he meant it. However, the way he made love to you that night proved it.

With each move of his hips, Jason gained a moan from you. From broken gasp to subtle mumbles of his name, he was putting his all into making sure you felt good. Most likely putting his own pleasure on the backburning just to hear you coo out his name a little louder in the night. When Jason heard your hush moan encouraging him to go faster, he did what he was told like the perfect boyfriend he was.

His pace quickened causing the headboard to your bed to knock against the wall. You were glad your parent's room was down the hall, but you did remember on some nights your mom would leave the master bedroom to get tea when she couldn't sleep. Hopefully, tonight wouldn't be one of those nights.

"Fuck, you feel so good." Jason groaned out.

He tugged his cock out fully and his eyes darkened at the sight of your slick covering his cock. He pushed himself back inside your addicting cunt as if it was the missing puzzle piece to a puzzle. The feeling of you wrapped around him was like an intoxicating drug he couldn't get enough of. Without a word, Jason hooked his muscular arms under your thighs to form the lewdest mating press position.

You were completely trapped under Jason due to each time his hips pushed forward he was bottoming down inside you. The sound of skin slapping against each other echoed the room alongside your broken moans of his name.

"Whose pussy is this?" Jason questioned. Each syllable that passed by his lips, he rammed his hips into your harder.

Usually, you would spit out some bratty comment to get a rise out of the dark-haired male, but tonight in the heat of the moment—you're desperately and proudly moaning out that it was his and only his.

With your legs hooked under Jason's arm, your eyes lolly in the back of your head each time his hips pushed forward. Your pedicured toes curled with each kiss his cock pressed against your cervix. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his limbs grasping to want to intertwine your bodies some more.

"I'm going to cum Jay," You moaned out. A single tear glides down your flushed cheeks.

You finally were able to meet Jason's intense stare. Sweat droplets decorated his forehead and chiseled chest. His face was shaded with the color read through the intense session of passionate sex. "Go ahead and cum. Let it all out, baby." He says.

Jason could feel your thighs quivering under his arms and that caused him to drop them immediately—returning to the ardent missionary position the two of you were previously in. His strokes were slow and sensual. A sign that he was so close to being a cumming mess just like you. His hand went down to rub at your throbbing clit in a circular motion. It was quite amazing how well, Jason knew your body. From the way your lips gasped apart or the way your eyebrows crinkled together—he knew that you were so close to clutching around his cock and that's all that mattered to him right now.

The pleasurable feeling of you pulsing around him drives him to the edge. The grasp he had on you grew a bit tighter and his strokes were a tad bit sloppier. Just a matter of time, he could feel his balls grow heavier. A string of profanity words with a mixture of whines rolled off his tongue as if it was a foreign language. He could feel his body grow hotter due to the load of cum he just released. Just as the vigilante was about to pull out hesitantly due to the overwhelming power of your pussy clutching around him perfectly, you wrapped your legs around his waist. The heel to your feet pressed against his lower back as you trapped him into a kiss indulging in the mess below your waist. The both of you are forced to ride out each other high from makeup sex until your bodies finally gave out on you.

Jason's body collapsed next to yours, you and Jason were completely exhausted while your dazed eyes stared at the white-colored ceiling. Your brain felt like mush while your body still was processing what had just happened.

"You think your parents heard us?" Jason broke the thick silence between the two of you.

"If my mom starts showing you my baby hand-me-downs in the morning, then yes." You rolled over to cuddle against him. Your head promptly laid on his chest as you felt him kiss the top of your head.

"Good thing I didn't pull out then."

TAGS — @maydayaisha @shamelesshoefairy @eiflawriting @lostwanderr @stunnababyyabyyy @bunnyyamor @endeavours-jockstrap @hllokttyairhead @aasouthteranoswife @godessofbucky @cybervei @everstoneluna @scabsaint @saintblk @heejayy @prettyboyyuji @polyqueen101 @diorlov3er @dior-fawn @celestialuffy @venusflytrapstar @cookiemonsterboss @blackwolfqueenzz @trunichole15 @yooniluvbot444 @smileyy-cakee @deeliciious @putridstares @obitohno @aotwarriorsimp @renjiluvermain @spookyblackwitch

[itsvicreads]

Two Doors Down

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Black! Female Reader

Summary: You’re intoxicating to Aki in a way he’s not familiar with, a way that makes some strange sensation bloom in his chest. The same one that freaked him out enough for him to end things with you. Hours upon hours spent drinking the finest liquors couldn’t make Aki as drunk as he is on you whenever he’s in your presence.

In which Aki finds himself reflecting on his past decisions involving a certain neighbor.

Genre: Neighbor AU

Word Count: 7.6k

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Pining Aki Hayakawa, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Reader is a black female reader who uses she/her pronouns!

Art by: NIRI

Ao3 Link: Two Doors Down

It’s too fucking loud in here.

It’s the only thought running through Aki’s head as he toys with the nearly finished cigarette between his fingers. He stares intently at the ash dangling from the end before he flicks it into the ashtray sitting on the bartop in front of him. It’s busy tonight, not too crowded but enough people that it’s a little overwhelming to him. The bump of the music’s bass rattles through Aki’s chest as he takes a sip of his drink. He’s not too big on alcohol, never has been…until recently. Suddenly, he’s been finding himself rather enjoying the burn of the bourbon he’s chosen as his go to liquor.

He has a good guess as to when he started taking up drinking. An easy way to escape the reality he’s created for himself. A reality full of loneliness. It’s his own fault, really. He’d made his choice and now he has to accept the daily humdrum that is now his life. Everyday is mundane. They go like this: Aki wakes up, gets dressed, packs lunch for himself and his siblings, goes to work and then rushes to the bar to forget that when he gets home, everyone will be asleep and he’ll be crawling into bed alone as always.

But, as dull as his life has become, it’s also a relief for Aki. He likes control, likes knowing what the next step is. He doesn’t mind chaos, though he’d prefer not to deal with it. He’d like everything to have a plan. So when Aki gets up in the morning, he knows exactly what he’s wearing, knows what he’s packing for lunch, knows exactly what time he’ll be running out to his car, knows exactly when he’ll be setting his things down in his office and he knows exactly what he’ll be ordering when he slides into his stool at the bar after work.

His coworkers laugh raucously behind him, the sudden burst of sound penetrating the bubble Aki has suddenly surrounded himself in. He takes a final drag of his cigarette before he ashes it and spins in his seat to face his colleagues.

The conversation is smooth, funny, even lifting Aki’s spirits as he lets himself finally get out of his own head.

“What do you think of Himeno, Aki?” One of his coworkers asks and Aki can see the shit eating grin he’s trying to hide behind his glass as he drinks.

Aki shrugs. “She’s nice, I suppose.”

One of his other colleagues chimes in. “Yeah, but what do you think of her? Like, looks wise.”

“Oh,” Aki says. He thinks about it for all of two seconds before he answers. “She’s cute. Not really my type, though.”

“You have a type?” One coworker asks, sounding surprised. 

Aki rolls the ice around in his drink, allowing himself to remember what exactly his type was: Someone who lived just two doors down. An absolute beauty, with a head full of thick curls he loved to bury his nose in. Breathing in the sweet scent of pomegranate and honey. Soft, plush lips pressed against his own, trailing down his neck, down his chest, and further. Him leaving open mouth kisses across the smooth brown skin he couldn’t get enough of. His hands gripping luscious thighs, bringing them to wrap around his waist as he made love to the soft body of the woman he loved beneath him. If he were being honest with himself, that was still his type. It’s been some time since he’d let himself think about this, let himself remember what he let go of and lost, think about you.

He sighs, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his pack of cigarettes. He pulls a stick out and sits it between his lips before he brings his lighter up to his mouth. The flame burns the end of the cigarette as Aki sucks in a breath, successfully lighting. He takes a drag, holding the breath in and letting it burn through his lungs. The sting of the smoke hurts less than the thought of the memories currently assaulting him. It doesn't help much, but it helps enough that he can tuck those memories to the back of his mind for a bit and get back to the present to answer his colleagues previous question.

“I do have a type,” he replies. “And this may come as a shock, but Himeno is not it.”

Another one of his colleagues snorts. “Well shit, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

Aki sips his drink, shrugging again. “Good luck with that.”

His coworkers are alright. Decent company when they want to be. They’re never talking about anything of substance, which Aki appreciates most of the time. He’s always thinking too much, working himself up to the point that he hyper focuses on whatever is on his mind and then he spirals. Always in his head, everyone around him none the wiser. It’s embarrassing. It’s why he likes to keep all the little pieces of his life in order, why he likes to be in control.

The music in the bar picks up, the tempo and bass increasing and Aki realizes it’s getting late. It’s late enough that the bar is shifting more into a club atmosphere, the dance floor starting to fill with patrons. Aki isn’t particularly interested in sticking around for this, (he never was much of a dancer) so he makes to turn and close his bar tab until he hears his coworker whistle.

“Oh, shit. Who is that?” One of his other colleagues gasps. He’s pointing across the bar, to the entrance where a couple has just walked in. A tall man strides in, his arm wrapped around the woman next to him. He’s got a face that is totally forgettable to Aki because all he can focus on is the arm wrapped around the woman next to him and that woman being you.

You’re clearly on a date and Aki…well, Aki doesn’t know how he feels about it. Surprised? Annoyed? Angry? He doesn’t have a right to feel any of those things, in all honesty.

The space feels so much smaller as his eyes track you. It’s been a while since Aki has seen you, really seen you. You two tend to avoid each other as much as you can, seeing as you live so close to each other. Two doors away from each other to be exact. He sometimes sees your posts on social media. He never likes them, in case you get the notification and decide to block him for some reason. On occasion, he’ll let himself scroll through your pages. Not for any particular reason, of course. Just to see what you’re up to lately. Aki tries not to make a habit out of it, tries not to think too hard about what you’re getting into when you post your selfies with your makeup and hair done. Tries not to march down the hall and knock on your door when he hears your laugh floating through the hallways accompanied by some man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t have any right to know anymore. He made that choice when he’d ended things with you.

It was never supposed to be anything more than a casual hookup between friends, neighbors. You and Aki live down the hall from each other and had bonded over the crazy neighbor who lived in the apartment between you two. Nights where you shared a bottle of wine at each other’s places soon turned into venting about work, failed relationships and eventually turned into an agreement to become friends with benefits. What Aki never anticipated was him developing feelings of more than friendship for you. He’d had his fair share of flings before, all never turning into anything. But with you, it became more for him very quickly, and it scared him.

Aki takes another drag of his cigarette as he watches you walk in with your date, a bounce in your step with the same wide smile he remembers and suddenly, the burn in his lungs is definitely not enough to keep him in the present. His mind is full of you. Full of memories of your touch, your scent, your laugh, your voice. Full of the way your eyes watered, the way your voice cracked, choking back a sob, crying for him when he’d decided to pull the plug on your relationship– if you could call it that.

Aki’s eyes are locked to your form, to the sexy little outfit you’ve worn out tonight that makes him shift in his seat, his pants suddenly feeling a bit too snug. He drinks in all the dips and curves he was once so familiar with, watches the way your curls bounce with each step and Aki wonders how long it took for you to finish your twist out this time. He wonders if the man you’re here with tonight helped apply your oils, leave-in and cremes the way he used to. The thought makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

You haven’t noticed him yet and he’s glad for it. It gives him time to sort out what he’s feeling at the moment while he watches you and your date wander on to the dance floor, a drink in your hand. Your date wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close until your ass is pressed against his groin. Aki inhales the smoke from his cigarette harder.

His gaze is focused on the way your hips sway in tune with the music, how you close your eyes and let the rhythm take over your body. Your movements are intoxicating. You’re intoxicating. You’re intoxicating to Aki in a way he’s not familiar with, a way that makes some strange sensation bloom in his chest. The same one that freaked him out enough for him to end things. Hours upon hours spent drinking the finest liquors couldn’t make Aki as drunk as he is on you whenever he’s in your presence. Your date seems to feel the same, because now he’s gripping on to you a little tighter, pressing his face into the crook of your neck the same way Aki used to, drowning in your scent the way Aki loved to.

Aki’s nostrils flare with annoyance and he tries to pretend seeing you with another man doesn’t get under his skin. He knows he could look away, but he won’t. Maybe it’s his way of punishing himself, forcing himself to watch you move on with your life right in front of him.

Yeah, that’s it. He caused his own pain and now he has to live with watching the way you roll your body against another man. Watch as that man grips onto your hips to pull you further into him. Watch as you both turn your faces to each other, noses brushing together. Watch as that man presses himself against your ass to the beat of the music. Watch as your plush lips part with what he can only imagine is that soft blend of a gasp and a moan you used to make whenever Aki finally pushed his tongue into your aching cunt after all of your begging and whining for him to stop teasing you.

Aki knows that the decision he made to end your arrangement gives him no right to be upset that you’re moving on, trying to find someone who can do better for you than Aki was willing. He also can’t ignore how just imagining another man’s hands on you makes his skin crawl, let alone witnessing it for himself.

He hates that you bring these feelings out of him, that you bring any feelings out of him. Aki likes control, and doesn't like to let his mind get away from him. But with you, it’s like he can’t help the rush of emotions that spill out when he sees you, when he’s near you. You make his life feel chaotic without even trying. It’s like his plans go out the window when you’re around. He’d do quite literally anything for you. Except give up the control he so loves for you.

You’re dancing alone now and Aki debates on getting up and maneuvering his way through the crowd just to get closer when he sees the way your hands run down your breasts, down your torso and to your hips. 

“She’s so fucking sexy,” one of his colleagues practically moans and Aki thinks he wants to put his cigarette out in the space right between his eyes. He opts for the ashtray instead.

Aki takes out his wallet, grabs a few bills and places them on the counter, leaving his cup behind.

“I’m leaving,” he tells his coworkers.

“Not sticking around for the show?” The same colleague from before asks. “I might go get her number if the guy she came with takes too long to come back,” he sips his drink, sighing longingly after he swallows, eyes still glued to you. “I wanna be balls deep in that.”

Yeah, Aki should’ve burned his fucking eyes out.

…The temptation takes Aki aback just a bit and it’s a small reminder of why he needs to get away from you. Why he needs to leave this place and just go home. He’d never been the jealous type, not until he met you. And you’re not even his to be jealous over anymore, and yet…he can’t help the way he sees red watching you with someone else, the way he bites the inside of his cheek until it’s bleeding to keep himself from making a beeline to you.

He doesn’t reply to his coworkers, doesn’t even tell them goodbye as he makes his way through the crowd and out the door.

………

Freshly showered and in bed, Aki tosses and turns, unable to sleep. His thoughts are consumed with the thought of you. The way they always used to be. It’s so frustrating. It’s like his body and his mind can’t control itself. And this is what he dislikes the most. He hates that seeing you in person, being near you at all is like a trigger for him to begin fixating. He hates that if you’re around him, all he sees is you. No one else exists. He hates that when he’s near you, this strange heat begins to bloom in his chest and his heart starts beating so fast he feels dizzy. He doesn’t understand the feeling and in all honesty, it scares him.

It’s why he ended things with you. Aki is a man who likes control, he likes order, he’s not too fond of surprises and chaos. But with you, all of that goes out the window. He’s at your beck and call, he responds to your every whim. He cares deeply for you, but the idea of feeling out of sorts everyday because he can’t control himself when he’s with you is terrifying.

“Now that she’s gone, you’ll be going back to being an uptight asshole, won’t you?” Power had asked.

“Yeah, probably!” Denji chimed in. “At least with her he was a little fun!”

Aki is so deep in thought, he almost misses his phone vibrating next to him. He quickly glances at his device, his body freezing when he sees your name across his screen, along with the contact picture he’d never deleted. 

He remembers it clearly. Aki had taken you out to dinner at some fancy rooftop restaurant in Tokyo. You had a wide smile on your face, curls in disarray as the wind blew through them. You’d tried your best to push them out of your face, but to no avail. Behind you, the sun was setting. It casts an ethereal glow over you, like a halo of pinks and golds and oranges. You were stunning. Of course he couldn’t bring himself to delete the picture. 

He wasn’t in the habit of looking for your contact information, so he hadn’t seen the picture for a long time. Seeing it now made him feel as though it should be framed and hung in a museum, the Mona Lisa taken down and replaced by you.

Aki unlocks his phone, swiping to the text.

You: Hey

You: I know we haven’t talked in awhile, but I think I saw you out at a bar tonight? Was that you?

He hesitates. He knows he shouldn’t respond. That he should leave you alone like he chose to do. But a selfish part of him wants to talk to you. 

So he does.

Aki: That was me. I saw you, too.

He types up the next message, debating on whether he should send it or not…

Fuck it. He’s already texting you, so he might as well. The message sends at the same time a new message comes in from you.

Aki: Didn’t want to interrupt your date

You: You should’ve said hi :)

The three dots pop up right after. You’re typing.

You: Lol you should’ve. He was only trying to fuck and I wasn’t interested

You: He wandered off to talk to some other girl when I said no…so yeah

Aki: I’m sorry to hear that

Liar.

He thinks about that man at the bar touching all over you while you danced. You seemed to be having fun, enjoying yourself. Had he known your date was only trying to get in your pants, Aki may have opted to put his cigarette out between your date's eyes instead of his coworkers. He feels himself getting riled up again, but it’s short lived because your next text makes his heart race.

You: You home?

Aki: I am. What’s up?

You: Wanna come over for a glass of wine?

It’s a bad idea. 

He climbs out of bed.

This is a horrible idea. 

He slips on a pair of pants.

He’d ended things for a reason.

He slides his feet into his house shoes.

He’s going to fall right back into his old ways with you.

He’s out the door.

Aki knocks twice, his heart beating violently against his rib cage. He hears a bit of shuffling coming from the other side of the door and then the door opens and he sees you beaming before him.

“Hey,” you greet him softly, stepping aside.

It’s been so long since Aki has been over. He felt lightheaded from the moment he entered your space, his senses overcome with your presence, your scent, with you. Aki follows you through the entrance and into your living room, tries really hard not to watch the way your shorts give him little peeks of your ass with each step. Instead, he keeps his focus on your curls, piled messily atop your head in that cute pineapple style you sometimes wore before bed. Aki remembers how adorable he thought you were dressed down like this as he takes a seat on the couch while you head to the kitchen.

Your apartment is cute. It’s got all of the elements that make it you; from the accent pillows on your sofa, to the pictures lining your walls, and the nice glass of wine you fill with wine and hand to Aki. You take a seat next to him, sipping your drink before you start the conversation.

He half expected things to be awkward, given how your last interaction had ended and your lack of communication following those events, but conversation flows naturally.

You’re laughing, now on the end of your second glass of wine.

“And then,” you snort, covering your mouth and trying not to fall into a fit of giggles again. Aki can’t help his own grin listening to you. “And then, Denji tells me he had to—“

Your phone dinging interrupts your story.

“Sorry,” you say, unlocking your phone. Aki waves his hand.

“Go ahead.”

You swipe along your screen and Aki lets his gaze fall on your screen. He knows he shouldn’t. He regrets it immediately when he sees another man’s name on your screen. He doesn’t need to see the contents of the text, his body already reacting with annoyance. Aki can’t help the words that leave him next.

“Another date?” He shouldn’t have asked.

You look at him, brows furrowed. “Uh, yeah nosy. It is.”

Aki scoffs. 

“What?” You ask, still typing a text to this fucking guy.

“Looks like you’ve got guys lined up to take you out these days.” The bitterness drips off every word. He doesn’t mean for it to, but he can’t help it.

You roll your eyes, sending your text to whatever guy that is and setting your phone on the table— face down, Aki notes.

“Do you have something you wanna say, Aki?”

Yeah, I made a mistake. You can stop dating these fucking losers. I’m here now.

That’s what he wants to say, but Aki shakes his head instead. He can tell he’s irritating you and the night has been going so well. He doesn’t want to fuck it up already.

“Of course not,” you mutter, another roll of your eyes. “You never do.”

Your sharp tone surprises Aki a bit, puts him on the defensive. The comment makes Aki set his own glass of wine down. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Obviously not or I wouldn’t be asking you to clarify.”

You fidget with the hem of your shorts and Aki tries to keep his gaze on your face and not the way your shorts squeeze your plush thighs. He always did love that about you, the curves of your body. The way your form molded perfectly into his. 

Focus. Aki tells himself. Because of course being in such close proximity to you turns his brain to mush.

“You just…any time something very obviously bothers you, you don’t say shit. You just run. You’re like that about everything.”

He knows you’re right. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Is this about us?” He asks, cutting to the chase.

You nod, looking straight at Aki. You always looked right at him when you spoke. He admired that about you. The way you said everything with total honesty. You never lied, you never sugar coated the truth. You were far from a coward, unlike Aki. Your eyes bore into his soul and it was something that always scared him. Like you could see all of his intentions, all of his thoughts, of his desires.

“I miss you,” your soft voice cuts through Aki’s train of thought, your confession making Aki sit up straighter, eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t say that. After everything, after all this time—“

“I miss you, too,” Aki breathes. He can hear his blood rushing through his ears, thrumming loudly and he tries to calm his racing pulse so he can hear what you say next.

You sigh quietly next to him. “You do?” 

Aki nods. “I missed you the second I ended whatever we were doing.”

“Then why did you?” You shift closer to Aki. “End things, I mean.”

Aki watches you closely, remembers what it was like to lounge around your place or his and just talk. Conversation never felt as heavy as it does in this moment. 

That uncomfortable feeling in Aki’s chest begins to take over. The one that caused him to confront how deeply he cared for you. The one that scared him so badly he ran. Usually, he’d head outside for a cigarette to try and rid himself of this feeling but tonight, as he stares into those beautiful eyes of yours, it feels different. Listening to you laugh and talk to Aki like he didn’t break your heart, like no time has passed, it makes that feeling a little less terrifying. He wants to run, but not from you. He wants to run towards this feeling, embrace it to the best of his ability. 

“I got scared,” he admits quietly, ashamed. But he’s already starting to open up. He has to keep going. “I’m going to be completely honest with you here, okay?”

You nod, wide eyes locked with Aki’s. “That’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning, Aki.”

You give him a soft smile and Aki reaches forward, grasping your hands in his.

“When we first started sleeping together, it was…great. Casual, fun, easy.”

“Right.”

“But, after a while it got harder and harder for me to keep it that way.” Aki pauses, tries to gather his thoughts before he continues. “It got harder to separate that I’m just the neighbor you fuck from time to time. The lines got blurred somewhere for me.”

He sighs your name.

“When I’m with you, you consume everything. All I can see is you. All I want to see is you. And we were never exclusive. You could see other people and so could I. But I didn’t want to see other people…” He sighs again, this time running his fingers through his hair before he takes your hands in his again. He wants a cigarette so fucking bad right now, but he needs to finish his honesty hour now or he never will. “I didn’t want you to see other people. Fuck, I still don’t.”

“Aki…” you breathe, squeezing his hands gently.

He chuckles dryly. “You have no idea.”

Your head tilts to the side, curls bouncing atop your head with the motion and Aki’s heart beats even faster.

“You have no fucking idea how hard it is to see you with another man, to hear you laughing and talking in the hall with some random fucking guy and inviting him in. I don’t…I don’t think I smoke more than when I hear that sound.”

There’s a long pause, your eyes searching Aki’s. For what? He’s not sure. But it must be good, because when you speak, it’s a quiet and gentle tone. Aki can appreciate this because he’s damn near about to burst with nerves from being so open with you already.

“If you felt that way all this time, Aki…why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“What would you have said if I did?”

“I would’ve said I feel the same way.”

You close the distance between you and Aki, your legs coming over each side of his lap as you straddle him. You loop your arms around his neck, Aki’s hands coming up to rest on your waist as you lean forward until your noses brush against each other’s, breaths mingling in the tiny space between you.

“Y-you feel the same way?” Aki repeats. He feels dizzy now, partly from being in such close proximity to you and from the fact that you smell so goddamn good. He can barely focus.

You nod your head, your nose caressing Aki’s with the motion. He can feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, teasing him in gentle waves. His grip on your waist tightens as he resists the urge to roll his hips upward. 

“I don’t want to see you with anyone else either, Aki. And I don’t want anyone else,” you confess. “I only want you.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he surges forward, crashing his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth when you gasp in surprise. It’s a messy kiss, full of teeth, full of desire, full of emotion, full of love.

Aki loves you. Deep down he’s always known it, always ignored it. But right now as you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer to you, as you moan into his mouth and pull a whimper from deep within his chest, he knows for certain that he is head over fucking heels in love with you.

There’s no one else in this world who he wants to be with more than you. No one who makes Aki feel the way you do and his only regret is that he was too stubborn to embrace this feeling before.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it though because you seat yourself comfortably in his lap, closing the distance between your groins and he can’t stop the groan that rushes out when he feels your clothed parts connect.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs into your mouth. “I fucking missed you.”

“Yeah?”

You move your hips against his and Aki squeezes your waist, presses his face into the crook of your neck where he sucks a mark into your skin, making you moan quietly.  “Fuck yeah,” he murmurs against you.

“Ah–Aki,” your fingers tug at his hair. He loves when you get needy like this. And you’ve barely started. “Show me how much you missed me,” you whisper.

He pulls back, his deep blue eyes watching you move your hips against him and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight. Aki thinks he may lose his mind just watching. He glances up quickly, watching the way your kiss swollen lips part as you let out another moan.

“Feel good, baby?” Aki asks, smirking to himself when you can’t do anything but nod your head. His eyes follow all the dips and curves down your body until they’re back on his favorite spot between your legs. He could swear he feels his own eyes dilate when they see the wet spot in the center of your shorts that grows and grows with each roll of your hips. Aki swallows hard before he drags his finger along your clothed pussy. 

His gaze glides back up your form until they rest on your face, watching as your mouth falls open with a silent cry. Aki slides a hand down your waist, to your ass where he taps one of your cheeks a couple times, and you know what it means. You sit up, momentarily hitting pause on your movements as Aki slips his finger underneath the fabric, tugs your shorts and panties to the side before his slender fingers slide along your folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are. He briefly dips his finger into your pussy, trying to stop his eyes from rolling back when he feels your soft walls clench down on his hand. He presses his thumb to your clit, slowly circling your sensitive nub. 

Your hands have now found purchase on Aki’s shoulders where you squeeze, breaths coming rapidly as Aki pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth. He knows you’re trying to be quiet, but he wants nothing more than to hear all those little sounds he used to get you to make.

Dark blue eyes lock with yours and Aki brings his other hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip, slowly coaxing your mouth open. “I wanna hear you, baby,” he tells you. “I want that asshole next door to know who’s making you feel so fucking good tonight.” He slips another finger into your pussy, presses his thumb against your clit and watches you visibly shudder above him. His cock aches within the confines of his pants.

“Ah– fuck, Aki, yes,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Louder,” he demands. And you obey, throwing your head back with a loud gasping moan as Aki’s hands push you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he coos, his dick only growing harder. “I love hearin’ you. Love makin’ you feel good. I love you.”

You’re his now and Aki wants everyone to know. He wants the piece of shit next door to hear you through the walls, screaming Aki’s name. Hell, he’s even tempted to dial up your asshole date, let him listen while Aki rips one orgasm after another from you. He’d really enjoy that. The thought is so tempting. But Aki’s gaze falls to where his palm cups your slick covered cunt, where your thick thighs tremble around his hand and he doesn’t give a fuck about any of that anymore.

He slowly thrusts his fingers inside of you, while his thumb stimulates your clit and he’s panting trying to hold himself together while you get closer to falling apart around him. Your hips move on their own, riding Aki’s hand, chasing your high. His fingers slip into you over and over, curling inside of you, hitting your sweet spot and you can’t help but to gasp quietly each time Aki reaches it. 

You’re more vocal now, your head hidden away in the crook of Aki’s neck while you whimper and groan against him. He loves hearing you keening his name into his ear. Aki’s eyes are locked on your center where he watches his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over, your slick coating his hand more with each thrust. It only adds to Aki’s struggle to keep it together as he ignores the pulsing need of his cock. Your pleasured moans and the squelching sound of your dripping pussy fill the space of your living room.

“Aki…” you breathe harshly against him and he feels your walls squeeze down on his digits. You’re close.

“Gonna cum, love?” His fingers thrust into you slightly faster. He pushes you back, moving you out from the space of his neck so he can look at your face. “Let me see, baby,” he says, voice rough as his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, your mouth hanging open as a delicious moan rushes past your lips, your grip on Aki’s shoulders tightening so much it hurts. But he loves it, loves feeling your pussy squeezing down on his fingers, sucking them deeper as your release moves over your body.

He can feel your release dripping down his fingers into his palm as he keeps pumping into you. You lean forward, returning to your favorite spot at his neck where you leave sloppy kisses. He tilts his head to the side a bit to give you more access, groaning when you lick the spot right beneath his ear.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so perfect,” Aki sighs as he watches himself slowly pull his fingers from inside you, licking his lips as he stares at his hand covered in your slick. He runs his tongue over his palm, groaning loud when he tastes your sweet release on his tongue. His dick is so unbearably hard as he watches you suddenly climb off of his lap, slide your hands into your shorts and strip off both your shorts and your panties. Your shirt and your bra fall to the floor next and Aki feels very overdressed now. 

His eyes drink in every little bit of your body. God, he missed every bit of you. That smooth brown skin and every dip and curve and those fucking thighs. He wants to be between them so fucking bad.

“You gonna stare all night or take your clothes off?”

Aki yanks his shirt over his head, his boxers and shorts are off next, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees how you lick your lips when his cock slaps against his belly when it’s finally free.

You approach, bending over to put your hands on Aki’s knees, prompting him to spread his legs for you. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you fall to your knees between his legs. You’re so sexy when you take control like this.

“Wanna make you feel good too,” you tell him, a hand coming up to grip the base of his cock and Aki’s hip involuntarily jerk upwards. His head falls back, a low moan already escaping him.

He’s missed your touch. He’s already worked up from making you cum and he’s missed you touching him so much he doesn’t know if he’ll last very long if you do what he thinks you’re about to.

Aki watches as your tongue rolls out of your mouth, pink and wet and he inhales sharply when he sees the little grin you get as his cock throbs in your hand.

“I missed this dick, Aki,” you whisper, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to the red tip. He hisses, hips coming up again as he whimpers your name. You bring your other hand up to wrap around the head of his dick, tongue teasing the smooth, wet head for just a moment before you take him in your mouth. Aki’s chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as he watches you swallow inch after inch of him. He lets out a strangled moan when the head of his cock touches the back of your throat.

“Goddamn, baby,” Aki chokes. “Gimme a second. Hold on.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, takes a deep breath to try and gain his composure…only to let out something between a sharp gasp and a loud whimper when you swallow around the head of his cock, taking Aki even deeper. You hum around his dick, the vibrations making Aki arch against the couch and thrust his hips forward.

“Oh fuck,” Aki groans. And he wants to grab your hair and push you down further, but he doesn’t want to fuck up your curls. He knows how hard you work to maintain them. He opts to bring one hand to your jaw, holding your face while your lips work up and down his length, Aki shivering at the way your tongue worships the veiny underside.

You hum again as your head bobs up and down, up and down, taking Aki impossibly deeper down your throat every time. More vibrations and your fingers come up, caressing his balls, the skin tight already as Aki squeezes his eyes shut and tries so hard not to cum down your throat. “Ah–shit, shit!”

You pull off Aki’s cock with a loud POP, sucking in a deep breath as your hand strokes him up and down. Aki is grateful for the small break because he was so close to literally drowning you in his release if you kept sucking his dick the way you were. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Your chin is dripping with your saliva. Aki stares through hooded eyes as you lift your other hand to wipe it away and he can’t help but to fall even more in love with you. You’re breathtaking, sexy, everything he’s ever wanted and in this moment he swears to himself that he’ll never let you go again.

“You’re so pretty,” Aki blurts. “My pretty girl.” He can’t help himself. He’s got tunnel vision. Only for you. His heart is pounding against his ribcage as he gazes at you lovingly. He leans forward. Reaching his hand out, he cups the back of your neck and pulls you to him, slamming his mouth against yours. A deep, guttural groan transfers from his mouth to yours, a result of tasting the mixture of your release and his arousal on his tongue and your hand still pumping his cock between you two. It’s dizzying. Aki won’t last much longer.

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you up from the floor. “Bend over for me, baby.”

And you do as he asks, climbing on to the couch and bending so that you’re on all fours.

“Aki…” you whine, wiggling your ass for him teasingly. Damn, he missed this. He chuckles, softly slaps your right cheek and then your left, groaning when he sees the way your ass jiggles for him. 

Yeah, he’s definitely not gonna last long with this view.

Aki readjusts his position, one knee on the couch and the other foot on the floor. In this position, he can see how wet you are, practically dripping for him. He loves seeing you like this. Ready and wanting– wanting Aki and Aki only.

“Ready, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, Aki, fuck me, please…” you moan. “I need you so fucking bad right now, Aki.”

Aki takes his cock in his hand, squeezing hard and stroking, a bead up precum dripping onto your couch. He’ll apologize for that later, but right now all he wants is to be as deep inside your tight, wet cunt as physically possible.

He guides the tip to your entrance and pushes forward, eyes rolling back with pleasure when he feels the tip barely slide in before your walls and trying to suck him inside. Even so, he resists bottoming out immediately, pushing into you slowly, so slowly until his hips are pressed tight against your ass. You keen into the cushions of the couch, the muffled sound only making Aki more eager to push forward. So he does, skin igniting with goosebumps the deeper he goes.

You feel so. fucking. good. 

Once he’s fully sheathed inside you, Aki places a hand on each cheek, spreading your ass open so he can watch himself disappear into your pussy. You lift your head, glancing back, over your shoulder to look at Aki. He glances up, eyes connecting with yours. And then he drapes himself over you, his skin fire hot against your back, and he pressed a wet kiss to your lips, to that spot behind your ear that makes your pussy squeeze down on him, down your jaw, down your back.

“Fuuuuuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whispers raggedly as he pulls out just barely, then pushes back in again. Aki takes his time, pumps his hips in short thrusts. He slides his fingers down to your clit and rubs in slow circles, grunting when you push your hips down against his hand.

Your face is back in the cushions where you’re moaning a string of incoherent noises, louder and louder as Aki begins to really start fucking into you. His hands are back on your ass, watching his cock drive in and out of your pussy, moaning at the sight of the white cream forming at the base of his cock. 

“So tight, baby, so fucking tight,” he grunts, lifting both hands only to bring them back down to smack your ass. You cry out into the cushions, muffling the sound and Aki reaches around to grab your jaw, pulling you up.

“Thought I told you to let them hear you, baby,” with his free hand he smacks your ass, hard, the loud gasp you let out morphing into a loud moan when Aki gently rubs his hand over the area, soothing it.

“That’s it, let everyone know who’s making you feel good tonight. Every fucking night from now on,” He lets go of your jaw, reveling in the way you no longer hide your whines, moans, cries of pleasure. Everyone in this apartment should know it’s Aki who is fucking you so damn good right now. And it’ll be Aki fucking you like this from now on. No one else. Only him. You’re his and he’s yours.

His hands come down on your ass again with a loud SMACK and you scream Aki’s name, your walls clamping down on his cock. His blue eyes are locked on your ass. To the way those round globes bounce with each hard thrust and he has to see more. He spreads your cheeks, watches your little hole clench around nothing as he fucks into your pussy. He wants to be in there, thinks about sticking his finger in there, wonders what it would feel to cum in there. But he’s not going anywhere. He’ll find out soon enough.

Aki leans forward and presses a kiss to the center of your back, brows knitting together in an attempt to not cum when you moan softly at the gesture. His balls are so tight, painfully so. He needs to cum and soon. 

“Baby,” he breathes against your skin, reaching around to rub your clit again, gritting his teeth when you pant softly into the pillow, your walls fluttering weakly around Aki’s cock and he knows you’re almost there. He rubs tight circles on your sensitive nub, kisses that spot on your back again and you moan a little louder. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear it.” Another kiss to your back and a particularly sharp flick to your clit. “Give it to me baby. You can do it. Cum for me.”

And you do.

You let out a sharp cry, your moans no longer muffled by the cushions. Your release tears through your body, your walls vice gripping Aki’s cock, sucking him in with no intention of letting go. And that’s it for Aki. His fingers dig into the meat of your ass, forehead pressed into your back as he finds his own release, pumping into you one, two times before he fills your pussy to the brim with his cum. He’s gasping, grunting through gritted teeth as your cunt pulls every last drop from him.

You’re both still catching your breath when Aki pulls out, affectionately sliding his hand down your back before he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you down with him as he lays back on the couch.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, turning to look at him. His cheeks are pink, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. He laughs.

“God, I missed this,” Aki says, pushing his hair from his face. “I love you,” he confesses quietly, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, too.” You roll over the best you can on the couch while your legs feel like jelly and snuggle into Aki’s side. He wraps an arm around you. You’re both quiet for some time, simply enjoying each other’s presence. It’s only when Aki starts to shift that you sit up.

“Will you stay?” You ask, turning toward Aki and brushing his stray hairs from his face.

“Yes,” Aki promises, kissing your head again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[itsvicreads]

party

❥ draken told you not to go to a party during his meeting.. too bad you didn’t listen

❥ black fem reader, spaking, cumming from being spanked .. i have no words :)

at this moment draken felt pissed. his hand clenched the phone so tight that it nearly looked like it would break

his phone repeatedly played the video of you dancing at a party he specifically told you not to go to. he hated the thought of other guys looking at you without him being there to mark his claim

he tried to reason with you before he left for the meeting, granting you a surprise if you were a good girl but it’s clear that his words went over your head

“i have to leave” everyone’s head at the table turned to him. they could clearly see the anger that was radiating off of him none of them questioning what was going on.

mikey nodded making a mental note in his head to ask what happened as his friend walked out of the meeting room in fast strides

it didn’t take long for draken to make it to y’all’s shared apparent. he got him a nice glass of scotch and took his tie off, unbuttoning the white dress shirt

he wasn’t sure how long he sat in his thought’s drinking the brown whisky until he heard the front door open

the dark room didn’t let you see draken large figure sitting against the couch. the only light that came through the apartment was the moon shine from the large window

draken could see your nervous figure rushing to take off your shoes. it wasn’t until now that he had finally realized you wanted to go to the party and get back before he did; to make sure he hadn’t noticed you were gone

and that fact alone pissed him off

“have fun?” chills ran through your body at his tone. you looked at the wall afraid to turn and meet his eyes.

“turn around now” his teeth gritted together annoyance streaming through his veins.

“d-dra” you tried to plead with him as you turned, maybe if you explained the slight feeling of lonelyness he would give you mercy

“come here baby” his tone was softer more welcoming. his arms were open for you to come sit in his lap; and you did just that

you were nervous, but as draken rubbed your thigh your fear of punishment drifted away

“you know i hate you going to party’s without me” kissing you neck, draken poked his tongue out licking your sensitive spot

“why do i hate it baby?”

“it’s not safe a-nd you don’t like other men looking at me” your voice trembled- his rubbing getting rough and pokes turning into suck

while you tried to gather your thought’s draken flipped you on your stomach, spreading you across his lap

his rough hand skimed the back of your thigh pulling your skirt up revealing your ass. he pulled your thong back snapping the material against your skin making you jump

“baby”

“shut the fuck up y/n” his hand landed on your left cheek the skin quickly heating up. he didn’t pause as he slapped the same area five more time. your pleads got louder the harder the stinging sensation came

“i tell you things for a reason” rubbing the smacked area, draken moved his hand to your right cheek slapping it .. repeatedly.

even with the pain this brought you- your lower half became moist in need. setting draken off always made you so wet due to his dominance being so intense and powerful.

you pussy throbbed with the pain still filling strong, but the need to cum being stronger

draken didn’t even notice the pleasure he was unintentionally bringing you so busy mumbling to himself and switching between both of your cheeks to slap

the throbbing had intensified just in a split second. you tried to warn draken; you really did, but as soon as you were about to scream out, your pussy squirted everywhere

liquid dampened your thong and his black slacks. draken stared at your twitching form- his dick nudging at your stomach but you both ignored it. you were still shaking by the orgasm and draken eyes were twitching on others ways to punish you

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘆𝟯. 𝐈𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦

[itsvicreads]

─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ anniversary⠀ 〳 ⠀ jason todd ‵

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀( synopsis ) it's your anniversary with your favorite vigilante

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, profanity, written with black reader in mind, the same jason & y/n from make up & office quickies, handcuff usage, cowgirl/riding position, blindfold usage, breast play, slight submissive jason, oral (m.receiving), flashback in italics, feminine pet names, masculine pet names usage ( pretty boy), power kink (kinda), cum swallowing, technically should have saved this idea for december but whatever, wc: 3k, minors dni

YOUR HEELS CLICKED AGAINST MARBLE FLOORS GLANCING AROUND YOUR SURROUNDINGS. You've been in Wayne Manor so many times, but your eyes still glance around in complete shock. The foyer was the size of your apartment if you were going, to be honest with yourself. You could feel Jason tugging on your jacket to help you take it off. The home felt so warm compared to the wintery weather outside that went well with the Christmas season.

Jason thought killing two birds with one stone was an excellent idea. While also celebrating the Christmas holidays with his family, he also managed to include your anniversary plans also. Just your luck; your one-year anniversary landed on Christmas Eve. Your week has been filled with not only being in the company of Jason Todd and his quite extravagant family but endless dates and spoiling for Jason to show that he cherished you. You had just returned from your anniversary dinner, and the manor was as quiet as ever. You assumed everyone must have finally gone to sleep. Just anticipated the Christmas joy the following morning of opening presents and being around loved ones.

Your lips parted to talk about how you enjoyed yourself, but Jason threw you over his shoulder in one quick motion. You yelped rather loudly as you could feel him climbing the stairs. "Might want to quiet down, princess. You don't want to wake the whole house, do you?" Jason questioned as his callous hands playfully slapped at your plush bottom while you were over his shoulder.

You yelped again, but this time in your hand that was covering your mouth from your giggles. "You could have given me a warning." You said as he finally reached the top of the stairs and made his way to his room.

His expensive dress shoes caused the wooden floors to creak under him with each step he made in the dark halls. "You know, I have a surprise for you, Mr. Todd." You said.

Your body relaxed as soon as you got a whiff of the familiar scent of Jason's room. He placed you on the bed and stood over your body while undoing the blue tie around his neck. His fingers drag through his hair as he chuckles at your statement, "A surprise, huh? What type of surprise?" He asked.

You could feel him grab a hold of your ankle to unstrap the heels you wore. Even such a small gesture caused your skin to heat immediately. You watched him remove your other heel before saying, "I want to try something new. Clearly, we know where this is heading."

Jason peppers your ankle with subtle kisses. "And where exactly is this heading?" He questions.

"You know..." Your voice trails off as you meet Jason's eyes.

They were so mesmerizing to the point that you sometimes forgot what you were saying when you stared at them. "You did say I need to keep it down so I won't wake the others." You glance up at him through your eyelashes innocently. "I should be saying the same to you."

"Oh." Jason's lips formed an astonishing o shape. He blinks a couple times after dropping your ankle.

You prompt yourself on your shoulders to get a better view of him. Even staring at him caused your lace panties to soak and clutch your thighs closer together. Jason would lean down, his hands that have done many unthinkable crimes caressing your thighs. His face is just inches away from yours. "Everyone knows you're a screamer, Y/N." He kisses the corner of your mouth teasingly.

"Fuck Jason. You're fucking me so well. This pussy belongs to you, Jay." Jason's voice pitches higher, completely mocking your past sexual experience of moaning out for him when you to have sex.

"Roy's face gets so red every time he sees you. Remember?" Jason's hands are inching up the dress.

You chuckle at his statement. You remembered vividly Roy crashing at Jason's apartment across town around the same time you also were staying there due to issues in your apartment. Jason swore up and down that Roy was a heavy sleeper, but the morning after, as you nicely cooked the two breakfasts—the red-headed hero could not look you in the eyes. When he did, his cheeks grew as red as the hair on top of his head.

Your hands couldn't help but roam your boyfriend's body. You're leaning in to kiss him, the scent of wine lingering your lips and whispering, "You said he was a heavy sleeper."

"Like I have stated, you are screamer." Jason's tugging on the dress you wore. Signaling that he was ready to start what he's been hinting since the start of dinner.

"Are you going to let me try what I have planned or what?" You kiss his lips subtle and could feel him melt into your touch.

It was sick how much of a hold you had on Jason Todd. You could smile at him, and he's a blushing mess. You could give him those adorable doe eyes while glancing up at him through eyelashes to have him in your little office helping you file some things. You had Red Hood in the palm of your hand, and he wasn't budging.

Jason recalled that it had always been like that. When he met you, he knew that you would be a critical person in his life. Slowly helping him piece himself back together again to be whole. Maybe that's why his light eyes lit up when he first saw you. Something in him just clicked. Now here you were a year later, clutching at each other as if it was the end of the world. He would not have expected this a year ago when he met you in an elevator.

Your heels clicked against the freshly shined floors as you did a light jog in the lobby. You could hear the person at the main desk tell you to stop running, but you were running late. It wasn't like you to be late, especially when you worked for Bruce Wayne. You viewed it as if you could be replaceable in a blink of an eye—granted, you were one of the best in your department. However, it wouldn't shock you if this could land you in some deep shit. You could see the elevator door about to close, and the one rude guy that works in the mail room even leaned forward to press a button to prompt the elevator door to close quickly.

The elevator door was so close to closing in your face that an arm stopped it from shutting, causing the door to snap back open. You let out a sigh of relief as you stepped into the elevator, and your eyes met with this guy. It was his arm that stopped the elevator door, and your mind couldn't even allow you to thank him. You were completely astonished by his handsome looks. The way his eyes glistened brightly under the elevator light. His nicely shaped jawline to his plush pink shaded lips. His messy black hair was also imprinted with a patch of white. His black t-shit and brown leather jacket hugged his upper half so well that you could see that he was shaped like a Greek god. He was breathtaking.

"Thank you." You firmly said as you realized you were staring.

You could hear the familiar elevator noise signaling that it had stopped on a floor, and just your luck, it was yours. You gave the gentleman one last smile before stepping off the elevator just in time to hear your co-worker tell you that you guys had a meeting in ten minutes.

The thing is, you thought about the mysterious man that held the elevator for you all day. He couldn't escape your mind no matter how many work-related things you let cloud your judgment.

But it did take you by shock when you were at your desk doing your tasks for the day, and the mysterious man found his way back to you. As much as he was on your mind within the day, as Jason Todd was visiting Bruce—he couldn't let the cute girl he saw in the elevator get away.

Maybe that's why Jason put his trust in you to try this thing you were so curious to do to him. You just had that charm that put him under a spell he couldn't quite describe.

Oh yeah, Barbara and Cassandra would call it being lovesick. Jason Todd was lovesick when it came to you.

The crisp air in his room hit his skin, causing it to be decorated with tiny goosebumps. His wrist bounded in handcuffs that were connected to the headboard, and his eyes couldn't stay off you as you were teasingly letting the skimpy dress you wore tumble tonight to the ground. He could break out of the handcuffs in a blink of an eye, but he would rather play along with your games. His head falls back on the pillow that was behind his head, and he lets his tongue wet his lips, just stargazing at your body.

It was just something so elegant with the way the moon shined through his window to illuminate the way the fusion-colored two-piece lingerie set hugged your body. The dark-haired vigilante was going insane now that he realized his wrists were handcuffed and he couldn't touch you the way he wanted.

"So, you're taking my eyesight away also?" Jason's head cocks to the side, and his eyebrows raise at you.

"They do say your other senses heighten when you take one away." You respond promptly as you straddle his lap.

You hear him let out a hiss when your cunt grinds slightly against his hardened cock. You smirk, leaning forward to place the blindfold on his eyes. "Just relax, Jay," You coo before you litter his toned chest with kisses.

Red lipstick marks staining his skin, and a sigh of relief escapes from Jason's mouth, finally feeling your lips on him. It was like a piece of ice being placed on something hot just to cool it down. Your kisses all the way down to his waist. Your lips curl into a smirk when you let your tongue drag across his v-line. He whithers under your touch, and you can hear him curse.

Your lips pursed before you kissed his thick tip that glistened with precum. Pooling saliva in your mouth and soon letting your tongue drag across the shaft of his member. Your hands slowly became wet due to your saliva, but that wasn't a problem considering the preference for how Jason liked his head. Your tongue glides back up to swirl around his pink-shaded tip teasingly.

Before Jason could complain about your senseless teasing, you began to bite his cock into your mouth. The erotic sound of his thick tip-tapping at the back of your throat caused you to gag. Your hands start to coat with your saliva before you gravitate your head up and down. Even taking it upon yourself to get comfortable between his thighs as you suck on him like your favorite lollipop.

You could tell by the sound of the silver handcuffs ruffling against the bedpost that he wanted his hand to take comfort on the back of your head. Just so he can press your head down so you can take him fully., just like he liked it. The flat of your tongue glides around the one noticeable vein on Jason's cock that always appeared when he was rock hard for you.

"Shit." Jason groaned as soon as he felt your mouth on his dick again. His wrist wiggles around in the handcuffs, and his head sinks further into the pillow behind him.

His toned thighs trembled under your touch and your mouth as he attempted to back away from your mouth being on him. You could hear the sound of silver handcuffs clashing against the headboard post. The thing is, you knew Jason was capable of breaking the handcuffs—but he was being such a good boy by not doing that. Not wanting to ruin what you wanted to do.

Your hand massages his thighs as your head bobs up and down. It was like a basketball being dribbled but much messier. The sheets below your body are stained with saliva, and your tears have your mascara running down your heated cheeks. Jason's whines were like a sweet tune to your ears that you wouldn't mind hearing every day when you woke up.

His body went through a couple of spasms, and eventually, you felt thick ropes of cum stain your tongue. You swallowed every droplet of Jason's cum and removed yourself with a dramatic pop. The back of your hand went to wipe the mess that dribbled off your lips. You eagerly perched up on your knees before straddling your boyfriend's lap after removing your panties. Despite his intense moments inside your mouth, he is eager for him. His cock twitched against your wet folds. You glanced at his wrists, which were beginning to form a red mark due to his constantly shifting.

You leaned down so that your bruised lips barely brushed against his earlobe and whispered, "We can stop for the evening, pretty boy, if you can't handle it."

Your tongue glides across the brim of his earlobe teasingly while your wet cunt grinds against his cock. You could feel it twitch against your warm body before you reached behind to position it to bully its way into your pussy. Your other hand that wasn't grasping at his cock would pull off the blindfold that covered those charming eyes you adored—you wanted to see the look of despair on your boyfriend's face.

"Just say the word if you can't handle it." Your voice oozes with so much sex appeal while cooing lightly.

Those words came back to haunt you when you heard the sound of the handcuffs snapping from the bedpost. Jason's now free hands grasped your waist and slammed you on his cock without hesitation. Your lips gasped apart to let out a broken whimper, and your fingers grabbed at the first thing you could—which was Jason. Your eyes lolly in the back of your head, feeling him stretch you out bit by bit.

You felt the cool metal of the handcuffs brushing at your heated skin with each rock of your hips. "That's not fair. You said you wouldn't break them." Your lips form a cute pout down at Jason.

He sits up to place a kiss on your lips before you can screech out his name. "I couldn't handle the teasing, princess." He mumbles against your lips, eventually letting his teeth nibble on the plumpness of your lower lip.

You went to pull away from his needy kiss, but the taste of his tongue interrupted any thoughts that were in your mind and words that were going to spill out your mouth. Your fingers intertwined in his hair in an attempt to bring him closer. His fingertips bruised your waist while you cockwarmed him briefly while the two of you indulged in the taste of each other. It was Jason tugging away to litter your neck with nibbles and kisses before his large hands moved your hips for some form of friction he broke out the handcuffs of the bedposts for.

It just was something so intimate with the position you two were in. A lewd lotus sex position that gave you two so much excess to each other. From the sensational feeling of riding Jason's cock to the warm feeling of his soft lips on your golden brown skin. Your moans echoed in his ear while he brought you closer to his toned body. His hands guided your hips and his lips never left a body part of yours. You felt him kissing all over your neck—knowing precisely what he was doing.

You push Jason back down on the bed so you can regain control. Your neck is littered with marks that claimed you as his, and the way you cooed his name seductively proved it. You were his, and he was yours—the year-long relationship shoved that you two were bound to be together.

But for now, he broke out the handcuffs that were supposed to be the main point of you being in charge, so you had to remind him just that.

The headboard crashed against the cream-colored walls as your hips began to rock at the pace Jason adored. Slow and sensual, just so he could savor the moment of your cunt gripping around him. It was enough speed to cause both of you a groaning mess. However, it was also enough to push Jason further to the edge to have him cum.

"Babe, I'm going to cum." Jason breathed out.

You could feel his fingers piercing your waist with how tightly he gripped it. His eyes twinkled up at you as if you were a gorgeous fallen angel that granted his presence. His heart was racing at the mere thought of cumming inside you.

"Go ahead, baby," You uttered through your moans of separation. "You want to cum inside, hm?" Your lips form an innocent smile.

Jason couldn't even respond with a sarcastic comment due to the intense feeling of your addicting cunt gripping his cock. His breath hitched in his throat as he could feel himself cum. He felt your nails grasping at his chest as your poorly attempted to ride out your orgasm. Completely overstimulating yourself and coming undone just for Jason, it didn't hit you that you came so severely that your limps trembled when you finally collapsed upon Jason's sweat-coated chest.

Jason gently tugged you next to him, figuring you two should get up and shower before falling asleep. However, he could hear your soft, exhausted sigh before speaking as you were cuddled next to him.

"Is it too late to tell you that I don't know where the keys to the handcuffs are?" You mumbled.

At the head of the moment, Jason didn't even notice that he still had half of the handcuffs bound on each of his wrists. "We should get up and find them. Would hate to explain this to the others tomorrow." He responds.

He was met with your silence before he realized that the passionate sex tired you out.

"Or I guess, I'll find the keys to the handcuffs."

TAGS — @stunnababyyabyyy @eiflawriting @sailewhoremoon @shamelesshoefairy @lovelyloverlia @godessofbucky @1reversecowgirl @plopifuee @ezay @thefairywalker @woahhajime @jokenotfunny @die4jay @yooniluvbot444 @d-drl @glxssyhexrts @comatosebunny09 @hopefuloperaangelnerd @elitodoroki @diorlov3er @simpingforwakasa04 @arminsfavoritepookie @cactusmghao @xoxodemisworld

[itsvicreads]

Heat Of The Moment (Part One)

eddie munson x black fem reader

summary: ‘Adopted daughter to police chief Jim Hopper, Shea has a hard enough time fitting in at Hawkins high, throw in monsters, meddling kids, and alternate dimensions into the mix and she’s not sure how she’ll survive.’

content warning: some angst, character deaths, period-typical racism, period-typical sexism, canon-typical violence, possible smut later on??? (honestly we’ll see), cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug use, this is a reader insert but I hate using y/n so your nickname is ‘Shea’

Masterlist//Next Chapter

'86 Baby

The morning sunlight gently warmed her skin as she snuggled further into her blankets, the soothing laps of the lake outside her trailer trying to lull her further into sleep as she tried to rouse from sleep. It was peaceful… too peaceful. Peaking her eyes from beneath the covers Shea cracked an eye open and glared at her alarm clock, which had been far too quiet for her liking.

“Oh SHIT!” 

Flinging the covers off, she jumped from her bed rushing to the bathroom to get ready. Hopping out of the bathroom she shimmed into a pair of dark wash jeans and scrunched her hair up into a tight curly bun before grabbing her keys and a piece of bread and heading out the door.

Pulling up at the Henderson residence about fifteen after, Shea only had time to take a single bite of her breakfast before she was started by Dustin getting in and slamming the passenger door shut.

“You look like shit, what happened?”

“Good morning to you too Dustybuns.” she hummed.

“Please don’t start with that again,” Dustin frowned at her as he buckled in and they pulled off from his street.

“What I think it’s cute!” she said taking a bite from her bread as she drove.

“Is that bread? Why are you eating just bread?”

“I didn’t have time to toast it ok, sue me.”

“Jesus you're a disaster in the morning.” Dustin chuckled which she smiled at.

“So I’ve been told. Be glad I told Steve I’d pick you up this morning for him.” Shea had promised the night before, more like was suckered into as Steve knew she’d never say no to Robin and had had the teen ask her at the end of her shift yesterday as Shea was picking her up, she was beginning to feel like more of a glorified chauffeur 

“Why are you parking?” Dustin asked as he unbuckled and watched her do the same.

“I’m going to the pep rally?”

“Christ, didn't you graduate already? You'd think you had enough as this place.” he held his fce in his hands similar to the way an embarrassed child would to his parent.

“I still have friends here asshole, what if I wanted to see Robin?”

“You literally see Robin all the time!”

“Just get outta the car Henderson!” she yelled back in fake annoyance as she slammed the door shut behind her. The two entered the gymnasium at the same time but Dustin rushed past her as he saw his friends in the crowd and went to go and sit with them.

She thought it’d be weird if she sat on the bleachers with Dustin and Mike, and even though Steve was… somewhere in the crowd with his date (Heidi? Or was in Linda?) she didn’t want to feel like a third wheel so she stood off to the side, leaning on the railing of the bleachers watching the band as the basketball team came out to the court. 

Robin caught her eye as she nodded to her waving figure, she had been best friends with Robin for as long as she could remember and almost never missed when the band played if she could help it. 

Glancing back to the court Shea looked up just in time to see Lucas waving at Max shyly. Max looked away with a hard look on her face, she and Lucas must have been fighting again, Shea thought as she looked back and met eyes with Lucas who had just realized she was there. He waved at her with a small smile which she returned as she wiggled her ringed fingers to him.

“It’s been a tough year for Hawkins…”Jason, the voice of the captain of the high school basketball team, interrupted her from her thoughts as he began his speech over the mic.

“In dark days like this, we need something to believe in!” he continued as he began to pace getting more and more into it 

 “When we were down by ten points at half to Christian Academy I looked at my team, and I said…think of Jack…think of Melissa and Heather…think of Billy…” she rolled her eyes at the teen and looked over at Max who, as she expected, had a dark look in her eyes as she turned away wanting to be anywhere but there.

“Think of our heroic police chief Jim Hopper!” 

Are you fucking kidding me?

Shea felt her stomach drop to her ass the moment the words left his mouth. Angry tears bubbled up to the surface as she felt the recognizable fire of fury boil up in her veins. She almost wish she could’ve slammed the auditorium doors behind her as she stormed out, but the slow-release hinges prevented it.

Yanking her car door open she slammed it shut as hard as she could, desperate to put as much space between her and the school as possible. 

She braced her forehead on the steering wheel waiting for the tears to stop, on her side a mess of warped pink and purple raised flesh tingled. It didn’t hurt anymore but anytime she thought back to that night, the summer of 1984, her scar ached, reminding her of everything she lost that day.

Hearing a tap on the passenger window Shea figured it was either Dustin or Steve that had run out after her, she’d hoped it was neither and kept her head down silently wiping at her eyes.

“I don’t wanna talk right now guys.”

The tapping grew louder and even more persistent.

“Go away! Can’t you guys take a hint?”

“I mean, I've been told my people skills are pretty rusty so probably not, no” a deep voice chuckled, one she knew but couldn’t fathom why he was there at her car. Sitting up to look out her window at neck-break speed she met the soft dark brown eyes of one Eddie Munson, as he opened her passenger door and situated himself in her ride.

“Woah you ok there Hops?” he asked with genuine concern written all over his pale face as he noticed her red puffy eyes. She probably looked like a mess in front of him right now.

Eddie had been her dealer and friend? She didn’t know if that was the right word for it, they really only hung out when they smoked together or if she picked up a shift at the bar his band played at. Her old man used to frequent there when she was a kid, but she honestly couldn’t bring herself to step foot in there since he passed away.

“Yea-yeah I’m fine how’ve you been Eddie?

“Not very subtle, you changing the subject like that by the way, but I’m fine.” he answered as he crossed his arms over his chest and continued “You on the other hand are not fine.”

“I’m good Eddie I swear.”

“It’s about your dad right?” she looked back down at the steering wheel as fresh tears welled up in her dark eyes and the minute he saw that he regretted not being more subtle about blurting that out.

Real smooth dumbass.

“Sorry I-I just saw you storm outta there while that asshole was going on and on and I just-”

His hands itched to touch and comfort her but he didn’t want to cross any boundaries he hadn’t already without her permission. He settled for picking at the callous skin on his palm and fumbling with his rings instead.

“Not to get all heavy on you but I know what it feels like to lose someone you love more than anything in the world.” his mom flashed briefly in his mind before he shook the thought away.

 “Sometimes it feels like it gets easier but most of the time it just…doesn't and fuck.” now she was letting the tears fall freely down her cheeks and she hated it. She hated looking weak in front of anyone, no matter how much she tries to reassure herself that it was ok to cry (hell even necessary at times) she had just never got over that feeling.

“I’m sorry Eddie I’m out here spilling my guts to you and it's not even 9 am yet.”

“Hey, it's cool Hops don’t sweat it.”

There was a pregnant pause as Shea wiped her eyes one more time before anyone spoke up again.

“Look why don’t you and me hang out tonight,” he suggested out of the blue like them hanging out was the most normal, everyday thing in the world.

“Like old times! You bring the snacks preferably nachos because you make the best fucking nachos, I’ll bring some of my finest jazz cabbage and we’ll just chill and veg out.” he enthused as he turned his body towards her giving her his full attention.

“Jazz cabbage?”She chuckled, it was more of a giggle but she refused to believe this white boy had her giggling in the school parking lot like some giddy lovestruck teenager.

“Yeah, you know the devil’s lettuce, palm tree delight, whatever the kids are calling it these days!” he joke, his wild curly brown locks framing his bright smiling face.

“Not the kids, god you make yourself sound so old Munson.” Shea rolled her eyes looking away for a moment smiling, his smiles were always contagious.

Looking back up into his deep eyes she nodded turning her body towards him too, “Aight I’m in, but after the game tonight yeah? I still have to work tonight.”

“Whatever you want sweetheart, I have Hellfire tonight anyways.”

“You’re still doing that? Hellfire I mean,” she remembered when he first formed the club he tried day and night to get her to join back in the day, even helped her make her own D&D character and everything. She still had her own turquoise dice somewhere in her room.

“Yeah… you finally interested in joining us?”

“Yeah-no I wouldn't know the first thing about D&D but thanks for the offer.” she didn’t know the first thing about that game and her doing math outside of school? Absolutely not.

“But you've played before!”

“Yeah in like junior year, and you made me!”

“You had fun!” neither of them realized how close they were leaning into each other but even if they did neither of them would care Eddie’s entire being radiated warmth and comfort and that's all she craved at the moment.

“Because we were high as shit!” she laughed throwing her head back a single coil of hair fell outta her bun and Eddie wanted nothing more than to tuck it back for her. 

Before either could say anything else the bell rang and a rush of students piled out of the auditorium rushing to get to their first class of the day. The pair both spotted Jason, who glanced their way for a second with an unreadable expression, both of their stomachs twisted but for separate reasons.

“I better get going, see you tonight?” Eddie said getting out of the car and stretching his arms and legs. Her car was tiny just like her almost too tiny for him. She got out too, arms crossed, and leaned on the roof of her car which she barely reached.

“You bring the jazz cabbage and I’ll bring donkey kong.”

“It’s a date.” he joked, but he looked back at her shyly through his hair hoping to get a reaction out of her.

“In your dreams Munson!” she yelled back but she couldn’t hide the wide smile that rested on her chubby cheeks.

“Yeah” was all Eddie said as he closed the door and made his way to class with the other students, glancing back once or twice to see if she was still smiling after him.

“Was that Eddie ‘the Freak” Munson I just saw getting outta your car?” A voice behind her startled her, she almost fell out on her ass if she hadn’t caught herself in time.

“You scared the shit outta me Steve!”

“Sorry, my bad.” he didn’t really sound like he meant that but that was just Steve.

“You didn't answer my question by the way. Was that Eddie the Freak you were hanging out with?” he asked again leaning on the roof of her ride giving her a look of an overprotective father or brother, he stood a good 8 or 9 inches taller than her and the look would have been intimidating had she not known him better.

“God don’t call him that.” she rolled her eyes.

“So what are you guys all buddy-buddy now or something?”

“What’s it to you Steve? He’s my friend just like you.” she didn't like the way he was questioning her or how he said Eddie’s name as if it was something sour. Even though he sold drugs he was one of the sweetest people she knew and she’d be damned if she let anyone say otherwise friend or not.

“Yeah alright just… I don’t know be careful, he looked all amped up and there’s just… something about him I dont like.”

“I thought there was something about you I didn’t like either, now look at us.”

“Touche.” Steve signed standing back to his full height with his hand on his hip.

“How was the date by the way? Linda was it? No Tracy! It was definitely Tracy!” She had absolutely no idea what the girl’s name was but Tracy felt right.

“Heidi actually but uh yeah I don't think it's gonna work out,” he said nodding over to his car where the pair saw the girl in the passenger seat, checking herself over and fixing her hair again for the umpteenth time that morning with her compact mirror.

“Again? Damn man I’m sorry.”

“Nah don’t sweat it, I’m about to take her home but I just wanted to check on you first, that Jason kid’s a douche.” classic Steve always the gentlemen, always ready to fix his friend’s problems but never his own.

“I’m cool Steve, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Totally sure, I gotta get going I’ll see you guys around yeah?” Steve nodded to her looking unsure at her one last time before going off with his date again.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful for Shea, she made it just in time for her 11 am shift at the veterinarian’s office, she picked up any odd job she could around town nowadays too keep up with bills, food costs, and the trailer (her dad had definitely done a number on the place back in the day and repairs and replacements weren't cheap) and before she knew it it was already almost 8. By the time she got home, she had just enough time to shower, change and get the chips and all the nacho topping set out together on the coffee table before she started drifting off to the sound of the Little Shop of Horrors soundtrack that was blasting on the tv. 

It wasn’t long before a rapid series of loud sharp bangs on her door snatched her from her sleep. 

Sorry this took so long! I was waiting for vol2 to drop then I had to emotionally process that shit cuz wtf

Taglist: @imatrisk

[itsvicreads]

Writing Tension

Hey! It’s your girl— @thecomfywriter— back with another post. Apparently, an anticipated post :) Fr though, before we start, I want to thank you all for the warm welcome and kind comments since coming back to this account. It makes me really happy to see these posts help people, and hopefully I can continue to be a resource for you guys, or even share my own works too! I started doing writing prompts on my instagram, so that’s always an option. 

Anyways, today’s post is about writing tension. Perhaps one of the greatest devices you can use as a writer, as it allows you to utilize the narrative to grip your reader, immerse them into your story, and have them truly feel for your characters and the events. Because of its power, it's also not the easiest thing to navigate. Thus, this post is here to help, as rather a launching point or hopefully a guide on how to implement and work tension into your story. 

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Tension is a subdevice of foreshadowing, in which readers are made to anticipate the worst occurring and/or face a conflict. Tension adds mood, depth, atmosphere, and engagement with your story. It is a tactic employed to cause emotional distress to your readers and characters alike. There are multiple different facets to developing tension successfully, each with its own purpose in crafting your perfect narrative. Not every story is going to need all of these to build tension but every good story with proper tension that leaves your readers unable to put the book down because, “what’s going to happen next” will have at least more than one.

Conflict: 

The foundational aspect of tension is conflict. Your character is experiencing a tense chapter, or the narrative has an increased sense of tension in it because there has been an introduction of conflict, whether that be through internal or external forces. Internal conflict may result in emotional distress and the reader's anticipation of when those bottled up, unresolved emotions will come to fruition and make a muck of character relations (as an example). Or, it can cause the retrograde degeneration of a character’s arc. Meanwhile, external conflict gives your characters a focus, an opposition to combat. Conflict is a natural breeding ground for tension because it festers resistance and opposition. Depending on the type of conflict within your story, the effect and consequences will be different. However, some things to bear in mind for each are such: 

Internal conflict: 

Internal conflict is the idea of “man vs. self,” in which your character is their own antagonist. When dealing with internal conflict, understanding the character’s motivations (or lack thereof), their personality, their morality/values, and their perspective is key to understanding their reaction and thus the outcome of this conflict. Personally, I love using internal conflict for building tension, because it creates a sense of dichotomy and indecision that puts the reader in a sense of discomfort. It’s powerful because it's uncomfortable, and it's uncomfortable because it's confrontational. It requires the characters to face the most undesirable, the worst, deepest, darkest, most heinous parts of themselves and question how it aligns or rejects against their self-perception. When writing internal conflict, the tension should arise predominantly from the character’s emotions and their struggle, putting them at a crossroads within themselves. Here’s a brief outline of each of the types of internal conflict:

Religion/faith: your character is questioning their spiritual stance 

Desires: these can be regular old desires or sexual ones, but your character is left repressing or struggling to accept/control their untamed/scandalous/unacceptable desires 

Morality: your character is questioning/forced to confront their sense of morality (or lack thereof), usually inspired by an external conflict

Identity: your character is attempting &/or struggling to form an image of themselves OR they are struggling to accept their self-image, typically in contrast to the image/identity they desire or have been prescribed to

I want to do another post on identity because my sister made this brilliant presentation on the types of identity for her global health class and I think it can really be helpful in understanding how to forge your character’s identity in respect to the rest of the story/society

Love/guilt: these are two of the most powerful emotions a character can feel, specifically emotions that drive action, which is why I grouped them together. Also because they’re often connected, whether it be the internal conflict of rejecting love, repressing it, being in denial, trying to force or reject it, or feeling the guilt of lost love, unrequited love, unethical love, or hurting a lover. Or, of course, the entire ballpark of dealing with guilt itself. Guilt is the needle for a person’s moral compass; remember that when exploring the dynamics of a character's internal struggle when it comes to guilt, regret and shame. 

Existential: the character must face themselves and come to a decision about their purpose/the meaning of life. This type of conflict typically involves an internal struggle against what the character knows or is prescribed to believe versus what they themselves truly find meaning in. 

Interpersonal: kind of like identity and existential, interpersonal conflict is a struggle in which your character opposes their role or their identity and its place within a larger context. For example, your character grappling with their sense of identity versus the societal norms and expectations is considered interpersonal because it goes beyond their own self-image, but instead of how their identity contributes to a larger scale. 

External Conflict: 

This type of conflict is your classic, “man vs other,” in which your character is opposing a force beyond themselves. When dealing with external conflict, setting up a basis for motivation for each party and allowing your readers to understand why these motivations clash is key in developing character intentions, which keeps your story consistent and is also a helpful reference tool for areas where you want to add tension. There are also a plethora of external conflict types, which I will outline here: 

Antagonist: this is a character who doesn’t necessarily have to be a villain, but they do have to be in opposition to your character. For example, your character’s antagonist can be the tyrant who conquers and enslaves tribes and cities of these ancient lands, or they can be the crush of your character’s love interest. The crush didn’t do anything wrong. They’re not a bad person. They’re just in the way of the protagonist’s goals in the story, which in this story, would be to woo and romance their love interest. 

Nature: natural disasters. The world is ending. Radiation. Alternate planets with weird, mystical, and dangerous wildlife. Surviving the outdoors. 

Society: character is combating against society, whether it be norms, authority, or the community itself.

Technology: character against technology that has gone too far. Typically in sci-fi, futuristic settings. Think AI, robots, nuclear bombs/weapons/warfare… the list goes on. You can be so creative with this one, I love it. Technically, Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” was character vs. technology. 

Fate: character is trying to prevent, oppose, or deter a certain inevitability or destiny they’ve been prescribed to. Think of oracles or prophecies, maybe even soulmates for romance books. I always like to think of Oedipus as the classic example.  

For example, character X has lost their father in a lynching after his father spoke up against the corrupt government that was leaching off their already struggling and vulnerable village. Thus, X has a strong vehemence towards the corruption, the government, and specifically the authority + everyone involved in the lynching. His motivation lies in his grief (which, in it of itself is an internal conflict, as he struggles to process the traumatic incident and cope with the violent and public murder of his parent) and thus may motivate his desire to dismantle the government and abdicate the leader that ordered the lynching to begin with. In this example, there are 2 external conflicts. Conflict 1 is the authority who ordered the lynching (antagonist) and conflict 2 is the society that endorsed the corruption that his father was rebelling against to begin with. Your character’s motivation may be to honour his father’s memory by dismantling both corrupt regimes, and his antagonist's motivation may be to silence any acts of rebellion in order to maintain governorship, power, and retain authority. These motivations, when outlined, are in direct opposition to each other, and being able to recognize that can help you as the writer facilitate scenarios in which those motivations and oppositions are exacerbated. By forcing your characters to make a difficult decision that reveals their intentions or puts their intentions on blast, you create tension in the story (i.e. if X had to choose between telling the authorities of a near-broken dam that would flood their village to save the innocents at the cost of increasing their hold on the population by embellishing their reputation, or allow the dam to break, killing the innocents and forcing the authority to go under higher investigation that would rule them out of power. What does your character value more?)

Building the atmosphere: 

Okay, lemme explain what I mean about this because I feel like this is a common trope in horror that always has me shitting BRICKS. Basically, there are elements of horror (that's the next point I’ll be explaining, fret not), in which one of them is the overdescription of a scene. Essentially, I like to think of it as, say your character is in the middle of a super tense scene. They’re alone in the house late at night. They live in a cabin wood area, no neighbours for a couple of kilometers. Their phone—blasted! They forgot to put it on charging. The hairs on their spine are rising. An odd sense of urgency has replaced their relaxing movie night when multiple creaking floorboards sound from upstairs. Your character slithers into the kitchen, grabbing the first knife they see, trying to make as little noise as possible as they slowly trek up the stairs. One hand is on the railing, the other raised with their knife ready to stab. Their eyes are darting. Their senses are heightened. Shadows from outside cast onto each step in non-symmetrical patterns, making each step more difficult to see than the last. The top of the stairs is  a void. The wooden banister is the only thing illuminated by the shreds of moonlight, and it reflects as though polished. What is that? On the railing? Why does it seem wet? 

Your character checks their hand, realizing it too has been trailing over a sticky fluid. Sticky and viscous. They can’t see in the shadows. They don’t want to look down, even for the second it would take to check their hand. Do they look? Do they keep going forward? 

A creak sound behind them. They spin around, slicing the knife into the air. The whoosh of it cutting empty space rattles their bones. It was only their own foot behind them. Though, when they look back up towards the banister, they notice the railing isn’t reflecting as much as it used to. Whatever liquid had stained it had matted to dullness. 

This is stupid. I should be leaving. Your character pivots swiftly, rushing down the stairs, when suddenly, a firm hand covers their mouth and yanks them back. 

In that uncalled for example, the environment is built through perceiving the entire scene in the character’s frantic and limited vision. We are following their frantic eyes, processing all the information and observations they make, whether they make conclusions with the observations, or set them aside for later use. I dunno what it is about this device, but it gives me the heebie jeebies everytime because DAMN stop describing the shadows in the corner of the room and the chills up your arms at the brisk wind that shouldn’t be indoors considering you locked all the windows. I dunno, that kind of writing puts me on edge, and that’s exactly the point. 

Elements of Horror: 

Briefly, I will outline some of the elements of horror and perhaps make a more detailed post on it separately, if y'all would like that. 

Overdescription 

Being vague with crucial details (limiting the characters and readers POV)

Loss of senses 

Overstimulation (creates a sense of anxiety)

Emphasis on a character’s reaction to the events around them // bodily fear (the pit in her stomach clawed into her chest, lodging itself in her throat. A sick acidity overcame her in waves as the sharpness of his fingernails traced along her collarbones. His hot breath feathered the cold skin of her neck, rendering her paralyzed within his clutches) 

Varied sentence structure:

The actual construction of your sentences influences the tone and fluidity of your writing // the scene. General rule of thumb: if you want to draw out a scene, use longer, connected sentences to build anticipation, anxiety, and atmosphere. On the contrary, if you want to blast your readers with a quicker, faster pace, short sentences can jar your readers and give the “loss of sensation” effect to help stun them.

Personalization: 

This is the idea of creating stakes for your characters by making whatever event is occurring to them personal. When thinking of personalization, the key questions to ask yourselves are:

What does (character) have to lose?

Why is losing (thing being lost) significant to (character)/the narrative?

How will (character) change as a person/the narrative change its course if (thing being lost) was lost?

Why is (insert character goal) worth the risk of losing Y? 

What other risks is (character) willing to take for (insert character goal)? How do these risks interact with each other?  

What are the consequences of these risks/decisions/actions? Consider emotional and narrative consequences. 

By personalizing each risk to your characters, you are upping the stakes of their goals, thus increasing the tension because there is more of a gamble to it now. NOTE: in order for this to work, your readers must truly believe that real consequences exist in your story. Not half-assed. Real, proper, committed consequences. Don’t give your character this deadly illness only to immediately present them with a cure. Don’t give them this life altering injury and have them heal within a week. Do NOT give them the easy way out. If you want to increase your stakes, show your readers you are willing to make your characters hurt. Show them that real consequences exist. Your characters, no matter how darling they are to you, should not be immune to the laws of your world. When in doubt, always remember the genius case of Ned Stark— he was the classic hero protagonist who everyone loved and rooted for. And then he died, and he stayed dead, because the story had consequences and he took unforgivable risks. An added weight, a sense of gravity was added to every character’s decision and the reader's perception of safety after that, because if Ned wasn’t safe, no one was. 

Readers on edge: 

Taking away your reader's sense of certainty is one surefire way to build a source of tension and anxiety, as it removes the sense of security that allows them to otherwise remain comfortable in the narrative. By decreasing the sense of security, you increase the tension within the narrative, allowing it to drive the plot forward and increase reader engagement. It also forces the reader to question everything. Will they make it out alive? How did she escape? Who was on the stairs? What was the mysterious reflecting liquid? What happens next? 

If you are able to keep your reader asking these kinds of questions, you are able to maintain their apprehension, which seeks to lock them in and truly sell your story as immersive. 

How do you pull this off? When building tense scenes, consider yourself in the character's shoes. What in that situation would make you feel secure? What would make you feel like you were aware of what was going on? That you could rely on your wit and foresight to help you in your quest? What would give you confidence? 

Now take that away. 

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Anyways y’all, I’m spent. Hope this helps! Feel free to suggest more posts through my asks and inbox. Until then, I’ll be working on some super in-depth posts for my buymeacoffee page. 

Happy Writing! :)

[itsvicreads]

The difference between showing, telling, and evocative language

(tldr found in the tags)

So this post is inspired by the things I see every now and again who are always saying "you don't need to show all the time! Like sometimes you can just tell the reader that the curtains are blue and that's that." And while I definitely agree, I feel like there's also a misconception about the difference between telling and showing and what it actually means. Especially since the boiled down cliche is "show don't tell" which isn't particularly informative.

In my experience, showing versus telling always seems to boil down to two things: verbs/actions, and personality. In large part because both verbs and personality can be encapsulated by short phrases (fought, rescued, decided, or excitable, proud, nonchalant), or by longer examination of their individual components. Showing rather than telling for a fight might mean having a scene dedicated, rather than a character just saying "we fought." For a proud character, it might be having little instances of their pride throughout their arc, rather than just saying "oh yeah, that character's proud."

Show don't tell really means "show us who the characters are, what the story actually is, don't just tell us that it happened."

To keep it boiled down, I've also heard show don't tell being renamed as demonstrate don't tell. This is especially for characterization/personality, as what it's saying is "you're saying this character is x? back it up"

The point of all this is to create a story people can really invest in, because they can experience what the characters are experiencing, they can connect with it all.

Evocative writing comes into the mix because sometimes people confuse it with showing, when the two are actually distinct things. Showing is about writing a scene rather than a sentence, so that a concept can be explored, or giving a person or place a chance to be to the readers what you say they are. Evocative writing is about using the prose to create some kind of emotional reaction in a reader. While it is sometimes easier to evoke emotion during instances of showing, as it's often more personal, it can be done with instances of telling as well.

The last thing to consider is that part of evocative writing is figuring out what's worth showing and what you're better off telling so you have room to show something else. If the only thing a scene about washing dishes is going to instill in a reader is boredom, you don't need to go into detail about how the character scrubbed the grease off a plate. If you have a character that appears once to fulfill their role in the story and never appears again, you don't need to spend as much time building up who they are as a person. Pick out the parts of the story that matter, so you can make room to show don't tell.

[itsvicreads]

Slip Up (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Author’s Note: Soooo I wrote this in my phone during my work conference and was feeling hot and dirty for Matty. Don’t look at me, I was feral and barking loudly in my head when I got the idea. Enjoy! :)

Summary: After a stressful week and a rough patrol, you let Matt use you in whatever way he needs. Something accidentally slips out of your lips, and to your surprise, Matt seems to like it.

Warnings: Smut, complete and utter smut (rough sex, light choking, some biting, creampie–daddy kink, breeding kink) fluff, incredible softness from our Matthew

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,142

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[itsvicreads]

I Can't Sleep

Pairing: Jonathan Byers X Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 1,667

Warnings: smut, fingering, p in v sex, fluff

Summary: sleepy sex with Jonathan. Nothing more, nothing less

A/N: you know me, this might contain a few typos (but hey, I'm back with a new fic!) Also I absolutely can not judge whether it's good or bad, sorry

Out of nowhere, Jonathan's arm settled over her waist. A comforting weight that grounded Y/N in the here and now immediately.

"Thinkin' too much?" The question was little more than a hoarse whisper into the crook of her neck.

Jonathan had nestled his nose right behind her ear. Y/N shuddered at every puff of air drifting over her skin. Slowly, she nodded.

Yeah, definitely thinking too much. Though the current imagery was far more pleasant than the last. Just his broad chest pressed against Y/N's back shifted her frenzied brain to a possible out.

"Want me to make it stop?" Jonathan asked. It was an offer and an invitation all the same.

This had happened before - actually happened quite frequently. Some nights, too little exhaustion had her brain running without a finish line in sight. At first, it had terrified Y/N, time ticking away while sleep refused to come to her and she wasn't getting tired. Which of course did nothing to solve the problem.

Only when they had shared a sleepless night together - neither of them able to grow tired enough to consider rest - they had found a solution that satisfied all parties.

So Y/N nodded once again and pressed her hips into Jonathan's front. "Please."

He took a second to resettle, to get impossibly closer. Then, his hand snuck under her sleep shirt (well technically it was still Jonathan's but Y/N had stolen it ages ago) and danced over her skin. At first, the light touch was barely enough to rise goosebumps and a warm feeling.

Large fingers reached up to cup her tits just then. With expert movements, Jonathan immediately found the exact angle to roll her nipple and have Y/N arch into the touch.

"Feels good baby?" He whispered as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. There, his hand rested merely inches above her underwear, a ghost of a touch almost where she wanted it.

Y/N bathed in the softness of it all. There was nothing hurried about this just yet, only Jonathan wanting to make her feel good, make them have some fun together. "Feels perfect Jon."

Apparently that was his cue. With another delicious twist to her nipple, Jonathan slowly pushed the flimsy material of her panties to the side and cupped her slit.

Even the little bit of friction was enough to make Y/N's breath stutter in her throat. Jonathan pressed his mouth against her neck so that she could feel his grin. "You're already so wet for me."

It was true, Y/N could feel her arousal coating his fingers as he rubbed them along her slit. But she could also feel Jonathan's growing hardness press against her butt through the soft material of his sweatpants.

"And you're already hard." she turned her head until she could look at his moonlit face. Then, she pushed back, rubbed herself against him.

Soft moans fell from both of their lips at the friction. Y/N already imagined how it would feel to have Jonathan inside of her from that angle, how deep he would reach like that with their bodies pressed together so closely. That alone made her drip onto his fingers even harder.

Which of course did not go unnoticed by Jonathan. "I can feel you growing wetter sweetheart. What are you thinkin' about?"

His words were punctuated by a single finger sinking inside of her. Y/N gasped and pushed into the touch immediately.

"You." There was not a second of hesitation or shyness in that statement.

"Anything in particular?" Jonathan teased. He started a slow rhythm of alternating his finger pushing inside of her and his other hand massaging her tits and manipulating her nipples.

It was almost too much already, feeling Jonathan's hands all over her, feeling his cock as insisting weight resting against her lower back, his broad chest a sure border behind her. Jonathan was all around her and she loved it.

Y/N wrapped her hand around his forearm. She needed to hold onto something. And if that something was the arm that was currently fucking her so that she could feel the muscles flexing under her fingers - then so be it.

Suddenly, another finger entered her just as his pace picked up. "Baby what do you want me to do?"

Y/N didn't know - keep up what he was doing right now? She ground her hips into his touch, wanted his fingers to go deeper, wanted Jonathan to really fuck her- "I want your cock."

Every movement stopped.

Then, Jonathan let out a shuddering breath that slid cold over her heated skin. "Fuck baby. Straight forward tonight, are we?"

"You love it," Y/N said just a little out of breath and squeezed him through his pants.

Her reward was a choked off moan and his fingers digging deeper into her cunt.

"Yeah I do," Jonathan replied once he caught his breath again.

Then, his fingers left her. Y/N pushed back into some sort of friction - damn close to start touching herself as Jonathan withdrew completely. "Jon!"

"At least let me get rid of my pants." His voice tipped down in low amusement. It got another edge to it too that had Y/N want him even more.

She wanted to turn around and push the pants out of the way herself.

Jonathan didn't let her.

His arms wrapped around Y/N once again, pinned her in place. Then, he pressed up behind her with his naked cock brushing her panties. Y/N shivered and spread her legs wider.

But that wasn't what Jonathan was going at. For now. One finger tapped against her hip and the material of her panties. "Can I take these off?"

Y/N didn't wait for him to do so. Unceremoniously, she shrugged out of them and disposed of them somewhere on a part of her bedroom floor she would worry about later.

"Will you fuck me already?"

Jonathan didn't answer verbally. Instead, he put his hand on her upper thigh and pushed her legs open gently.

His cock followed suit, resting heavy against her entrance. Y/N was wet enough that Jonathan could slide in smoothly with one languid thrust.

"Feel so good baby." Jonathan nibbed at her throat once again, his voice breathy at the strain of not thrusting immediately.

That right here was almost Y/N's favourite part. She felt so full, Jonathan inside and around her and on top of her and everywhere. Not to mention the pleasure dancing at every nerve ending he was touching.

"You too," she sighed and rolled her hips experimentally.

The result was Jonathan moaning and tightening his grip on her thigh.

So Y/N did it again. This time, she could feel it too, the pleasure of his cock dragging against her walls and looking for that one spot that had her feeling stars in her veins.

"Who's fucking who here?"

And just like that, Jonathan started moving on his own while holding her hips in place. It wasn't too tight - Y/N would have been able to move out of it if she wanted to - but it was an intoxicating feeling. He built up a slow rhythm of deep thrusts that was sure to drive Y/N insane.

"Jonathan please," she whined and arched into his touch.

It worked like a charm. Jonathan could never resist her begging, less so when she was squeezing down on his cock at the same time.

While his pace picked up, his fingers pushed away from her thigh and to her clit instead. He was fucking her in earnest now.

Y/N had to bite down on her own hand to stop from moaning loudly. There were so many sensations at once, the soft cotton of the shirt soaking with sweat between them, Jonathan's naked body behind her, his hands on her, driving her crazy. And of course his cock fucking her towards a powerful orgasm.

"Am I making you feel good?" Jonathan asked teasingly and heightened the pressure of his fingers on her clit.

He was drawing fast circles on it now as his thrusting lost its rhythm. Jonathan was getting close.

And Y/N was already there waiting for him. Everything inside of her coiled up until Jonathan rubbed her just so and pushed inside of her once more.

She was toppling over the edge before she knew it, her cunt spasming around him violently. Jonathan swore into her skin, his face hidden in her neck.

With three more thrusts, Jonathan buried himself deep inside of her as he came as well. Y/N could feel it hot inside of her as they rode out their orgasms.

Eventually, they stilled. Jonathan was inside of her still, his arms wrapped around her and pressing her close to him. Just as the euphoria of the orgasm died down, bone deep tiredness set in.

Y/N stiffled a yawn and snuggled back into him. Only to feel Jonathan move inside of her at her own movement and gasped at the overstimulation.

"Sorry Sweets," he mumbled and pulled out gingerly.

"Noo." Y/N pawed at his arm as Jonathan got up.

He chuckled. "Gotta clean you up baby."

"But I wanna cuddle," She was aware that she was whining but Y/N didn't really care, "you wanted to get me tired and now I am and you're leaving?"

"Not for long," he promised, already halfway to the bathroom.

Still, Y/N kept pouting. She was feeling heavenly loose and sleepy and Jonathan wanted her to move? No thank you.

It turned out that Jonathan didn't in fact wanted her to move. He cleaned her up himself, so gently that Y/N wanted to cry and then climbed back into bed with her.

He even got her a fresh pair of panties.

"I love you," Y/N said earnestly and rolled straight on top of him, "but if you keep being antsy, I swear I'll duct tape you to this bed."

Jonathan laughed. "I love you too. Sleep baby."

With him wrapped around her once more, Y/N did just that.

Jonathan Taglist: @gwendolynmary @black-ink-stars @thelastcityposts @therealeddiemunson @alohastitch0626 @bonked-beyond-belief2 @cinderellacauseshebroke @kenzi-woycehoski (tags didn't work on two of you)

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[itsvicreads]

─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ office quickies⠀ 〳 ⠀ j.todd ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) just two people in love that sneak away during a charity ball to have a quickie.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reading discretion is advised: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, pet name usage (baby, pretty girl, etc), established relationship between reader and jason (but no one and i say no one knows about it..okay maybe damian and roy knows), bad influence!jason, he's low-key so feral in this, urgh i love him and that white patch of hair in his head, charity ball setting, secret relationship trope, slight breeding kink, reader works for bruce wayne in the marketing department, two idiots in love trope (is that even a trope?), fingering, slight exhibitionism, clit play, doggystyle position, they do it in an office, couples banter, minors dni !

HIS HAND FELT WARM AS THE TWO OF YOU TRAVELED DOWN THE GLOOMY LIT HALLWAYS. Your fingers intertwined with his like perfectly put-together puzzle pieces while he dragged you down the hallway. You could hear him mumbling about finding a place that was quiet for you two to duck off into while the extravagant charity ball that was going on continued until the crescent moon winked down upon everyone. As you walked, you wanted to question what room your boyfriend would choose, but you just let him lead the way. You were well aware of the direction you were going, after all—you remembered the building by heart your first month working for the company. Although your department was on a different floor, you still remembered vividly what floor the two of you were on.

You stopped at the door and immediately knew whose office it was. "Are you insane?"

With a devious smirk on his face, Jason Todd leaned his back on the door behind him. He brought the bottle of champagne up to his lips taking a sip from it.

"Come on, it'll be fun." His free hand grabbed a hold of your waist tugging you closer.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. It didn't shock you that he chose this office specifically but this was a huge risk. Bruce Wayne was your boss. If he found out, there goes your career down the drain and the embarrassment clawing you into possibly depression. "Through all the empty offices, you choose Bruce's?" You asked. "Are you trying to push the guy into retirement early and get me fired?"

"We'll be quick, probably." Jason let you go to unlock the door before he let his tall stature is gliding through the small opening of Bruce's office door.

Your eyes glanced around your surroundings one last time before disappearing into the office also. Your back closed the door before you're taking in your newest environment of Bruce's office. It was huge. Someone could possibly live in the space of Bruce's office if they wanted to. It went well with Bruce's demeanor you got from him. It felt sophisticated, yet homely at the same time.

"Are you going to continue to goggle over his office or come here?" Jason was sitting behind Bruce's desk in his signature chair.

Your cheeks felt hot when you looked at him. It just was something about him sitting behind the desk looking the way he looked. The one tie that was perfectly tied around his neck was loosened. His black hair with that one patch of white was disheveled due to him constantly running his fingers through it. Plus, a couple of his buttons were undone on his white button-down shirt giving you a peak of his toned chest.

Like a snake that was getting charmed by a snake charmer, you gracefully walked over to your boyfriend to be close to him. Each step you took towards him, you felt your body go through a heat rush and that was just the charm Jason had on you. He had a way to make you feel like your cheeks were on fire and for your heart to skip a couple of beats. On some days you forgot how to breathe when he would embrace you in his strong arms or get flowers sent to your department (he could get them sent to your office specifically but he adored letting people know you were cherished and loved).

Jason tugs you into his lap and he twirls the chair around so that it's facing the large glass window that gave a glorious view of Gotham. Your eyes twinkled seeing all the buildings and how small everyone looked from the floor you two were on. You could feel Jason's thumb rub circles on your back before speaking, "You look so beautiful tonight Y/N."

"Thank you." Your eyes met with his, "I mean you did help pick out the dress."

"Mhmm, I did. You want to know why?" Jason asked. You could feel him push forward to place kisses on the back of your shoulder.

"I'm assuming for what we're in Bruce's office for," You innocently admitted. "Which, I do need to remind you if we get caugh—"

Your words were interrupted by an abrupt kiss. The taste of champagne intertwined with your tastebuds before you became a bowl of putty in Jason's lap. You completely relaxed under his sudden touch of caressing you in all the correct places. His large callous hands traveled in between your thighs, pushing them further apart so he could have more access to you. You moaned into the kiss grasping more of Jason to bring him already closer to your body.

You hated how intoxicating he was. He always kept you on your toys like an adrenaline junkie every time he was in your presence. Similar to tonight, it felt like it was only just the two of you in the huge room. Subtle jokes only you two would understand as you were in a corner together and always staying by each other’s side in the crowded room. The two of you were insufferable and you didn’t want to think of a life without him in it.

It didn’t take much time before the sheer dress you wore for tonight was pushed up around your waist and your seamless black thong was pushed to the side. The heated feeling of Jason's slender fingers inside you caused your back to arch abruptly. Breathy gasps escape from your mouth before your hand went up to cage any coherent moans out. Despite the overbearing pleasure you wanted to squirm away from, your thighs still spread apart to give your boyfriend move access to you and your drooling cunt. Your juices slowly started to stain Jason's expensive nicely tailored pants but that didn't stop the young man to remove his fingers coated with your slick to toy with your clit in a teasing matter and repeating the progress of his index and middle finger disappearing into you once more.

"You look so beautiful tonight baby. I just couldn't miss the opportunity to fuck you in this dress." Jason's words were like a soothing whisper in your ear.

You fully understood why he chose this specific dress. It gave him quick access to you like this. It was a bit scandalous to wear at such an event, but nothing was as scandalous as the events that were unfolding with each passing minute in Bruce's office. The sound of harsh clit slaps and even harder kisses could be heard within the office before your hand was grasping at practically anything. Your orgasm was close to having to be a quivering mess on Jason's lap. Before you could express the satisfying frustration that had you drooling at the mouth, Jason stopped. Without hesitation and thought of your orgasm being snatched away from you, Jason removed his fingers from you. His fingers were completely damped due to your essence, but now his mind wanted something else to be completely coated with your juices.

His cock twitched in anticipation and ached to feel you clutching around him. "I want you so bad baby and I know you want me too."

That was certainly true.

You never actually had the thought of what if we get caught. The office door was locked, but any curious person in the building across could see the pornographic sight of you being bent over. Using the high-rise window to hold your balance waiting for the moment to be stretched out by Jason. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat as soon as you felt Jason's tip brush against your soaking entrance. If you listened close enough, you even could hear him let out a sigh of relief as soon as he begin to push himself forward bit by bit. He could feel you tense up which caused him to stop, "You okay, baby?"

"Mhm, you can continue." You said.

You didn't get a response from him, just a sudden thrust forward followed by a breathy groan. Jason was completely savoring the moment of feeling you clutch around. Especially given that the two of you haven't seen each other in a day or two. When he finally gained the cute moan from you, that's when he started thrusting like a madman. It was as if he wanted to cherish every moment of your pussy being around his cock. As if he was going to lose you. Jason nibbled at his lower lip as his fingers traced alongside the fatness of your ass—being sure to move the thong you wore to the side just to give him more room. His eyes darkened at the sight of your drooling cunt swallowing his cock.

"Fuck—you're taking me so well," Jason whined out. "You looked so pretty tonight and just wanted to remind you who you're going home with tonight." He admits through the sound of your skin slapping against each other.

He placed the sloppiest kisses on the back of your shoulder while his hips push forward to feel you clutch around him again and again. The sound of heated skin slapping against each other bounced off the office's walls and Jason was close to coming undone. His hands grasped at your waist tighter and his movements only grew quicker.

"You look so pretty like this." Jason breathed out, as each syllable stung his tongue—he shoved forward tapping at that one spot that caused your eyes to lolly in the back of your head. With one hand dance up your back to tangle into your coils to give it a good pull. "You're my pretty girl, right?"

With each thrust, you could feel that Jason was slowly unraveling into a vulnerable state that he never showed anyone else. His once harsh grasp on your waist loosened before his left hand reached in front of you. His fingers instantly find your clit to rub in a circular motion to help you cum just in time for him to cum.

"Jason.." You whined as your hand went down to stop the overstimulating pressure upon your clit. But your hand was pushed away as quick as possible.

"Answer me Y/N. You're my pretty girl right?" Jason whispered in your ear, "Answer me and I'll help you cum."

Your tears of pleasure stained your heated cheeks and you could only moan out incoherent moans of yes and please let me cum.

Jason always gave you what you want. If he could, he'll give you the whole world if you asked for it. But for tonight, you wanted him to make you cum and that's what exactly he did. He didn't stop until the both of you were a gasping mess and your sweat-coated bodies were hunched over. He pulled himself out of you hesitantly, the heat of the moment caused him to fill you up with his cum. Which wasn't new considering other times when you two had sex and he'll admit mid-stroke how beautiful you'll look pregnant with his children.

"Let's get out of here," Jason lazily plopped backward on the chair behind him. His hands fumbling to fix his pants from looking like he had just rolled out of bed or in this case—just had sex.

When he was done, like the touchy boyfriend he was—his hands reached out to help you fix your dress. His fingers that once were inside you trace alongside your smooth legs before his hand tugs your dress down.

"It'll be rude to leave suddenly after disappearing and without saying goodbye." You smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in your dress.

"And it'll be even ruder smelling like sex while mingling with Bruce's guests," Jason responded

"Fair point." Your face scrunched up as you were using your reflection in the high-rise windows to wipe away smudge makeup.

tags — @shamelesshoefairy @hellavile @lostwanderr @stunnababyyabyyy @bunnyyamor @blueparadis @endeavours-jockstrap @hyeque @hllokttyairhead @deeliciious @anime9ja @allukanezuko @eiflawriting @sxkxna @ja-keriaaa @veryveryswag @atesumu @evxelisy @starryultimate @sinfuldxlight @diorlov3er @aasouthteranoswife

[itsvicreads]

4 a.m kisses

summary: you wake up jason just to kiss him.

warnings: none.

pairings: jason todd x gn!reader

arabic translations:

(ant hayati) ‎أنت حياتي — you are my life

(qalbi) ‎قلبي — my heart

“Baby. Hey baby. Babyyy” A groan left the sleeping man beneath you, burying his face further into his pillow. That’s not what you wanted. Leaning down, you press a kiss to his shoulder and murmur in his ear, “Jay, wake up…please?”

“قلبي  ”Jason turns his head, eyes groggily blinking open with concern. Trying his best to look at you as you straddle his back. “Are you okay?” “Mhm” Your bottom lip between your teeth, your lips stretch into a loving  smile. “Guess what?”

“Hmm” He hums, on the verge of falling back asleep. Comforted to know that you’re fine and not in any danger.

He looked so soft, so peaceful , so warm.

You almost felt bad for waking him up. Almost.

“I love you!” You coo, attacking him with kisses. His face scrunching up, trying to escape.

“Y/N-” His voice muffled, face buried in his pillow. You pay him no mind as you place kisses on his cheek, on his neck, his shoulder, and back.

He turns his head, face flushed. Looking up towards the bedside table, a puzzled look on his face. “You woke me up for this? Do you know what time it is?”

You leaned back, staring down at him with a small smile. “Yep” Innocently tracing shapes on his back. You reach a hand up, running it through his hair —massaging his scalp as he lets out a pleased sigh. Rolling over, keeping you straddled on his waist, he tries to look annoyed but the smirk he attempts to hide is clear. Hands rubbing against your thighs before grabbing your hands and interlocking your fingers. “Well I love you too, even tho you woke me up at 4 a.m.” He pulls you down, pressing his lips to yours to give you a proper kiss. Your hand rests against his cheek as you pull apart, he leans in to your touch —pressing a kiss to your palm. In one swift movement, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body so that you’re no longer on him but beside him. Chest to chest, your eyes lock on to his, admiring the love you saw in them, not noticing he was doing the same. His hand caressed your side making you sigh in content before he placed a kiss on your head. A smile found its way on both of your faces as he rested his chin on your head and you settled into his warm embrace. Before sleep consumes you, he whispers in your ear; “ نت حياتي ” “And you are mine”

[itsvicreads]

𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 (𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚) | 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

summary | you have a tendency to take on too much, thankfully eddie knows how to lighten the load before you collapse.

word count | 2,050

pairing | modern!eddie munson x black!reader (bonnet, braids, deep brown skin + black girl hair care)

warnings | minor angst, hurt + comfort, very brief mentions of sex: (overstimulation, bondage, oral (f receiving), edging, thigh riding, dacryphilia), dom!eddie, casual dominance (at reader’s request), sub!reader

a/n | eddie is like 25, super mature, knows how to communicate and handle conflict…so if that scares you, i’m sorry. this is also super self indulgent, i’m going through it, if you couldn’t tell. also i didn’t proofread this, i’m sorry again.

[ 18 + | minors do not interact! ]

–

It had been 5 days of radio silence. No calls, no texts, absolutely nothing from you.

Eddie knew that you took it hard when you two fought, but it usually never lasted this long. You two were usually able to resolve things in a day or two, but sometimes it was a bit harder.

You and Eddie were near polar opposites, where Eddie tended to be more easygoing, you were tense. He knew it was a result of your family and the intense weight of the world that constantly rested on your shoulders. Some days, it seemed like it was breaking your back, and you wouldn’t allow Eddie to help.

He tried pushing you to open up, to tell him about what was bothering you, but each time you told him not to worry and shrugged it off.

Everything boiled over last week.

“You don’t treat me like your boyfriend,” Eddie remembers hissing. “You treat me like a distant cousin, why can’t you just trust me?”

“I do trust you!” You turned around, meeting his eyes. You abandoned the work at your desk in favor of pushing the argument farther. “Why do you insist on knowing everything? On being in everything?”

Eddie threw his hands up in frustration, “Once again, I’m your boyfriend, I want to know, I want to help!”

“Help me by shutting the door on your way out,” You growled, eyes ablaze with anger. 

Effectively, you had shut down the argument when he was getting too close, it was something he knew all too well.

Grabbing his jacket, he slipped his shoes on as he made his way to the door. 

“Y’know, I’m trying to love you…I’m just asking you to let me.”

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[itsvicreads]

Bonus night - E.M X Fem! Reader

This was based off Rachel and Ross in Friends when they suggested that two people who have broken up, have one night where they sleep together again.

Tagged: @urlbitchin @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiemunsonwillbethedeathofme @sweet-villain @2-manyfandoms21 @harrys-four-nipples

| Requests are OPEN | Masterlist |

You and Eddie had been broken up for over a year, you had mutual friends in your group who had seen you both go through the grevious periods of getting over someone.

This night as you sat the bar watching Corroded Coffin play live, you found yourself lusting after your ex boyfriend. Sipping on your alcoholic drink, making those infamous eyes at him as he sang into the microphone.

Once the set finished, the band stood at the bottom of the stage for a few minutes before Eddie made his way towards you. Sliding in between a stranger and your chair with a smirk, gesturing for the bartender and nodding at you for another drink.

Clutching onto your straw in the empty glass of ice, you smiled and nodded at him. Your cheeks flushed red as his hair fell over his face as you watched him talk to the bartender.

He looked gorgeous,

''I saw you watching me'' he smirked, leaning closer to you as he waited for his drinks.

''Yeah, well you were the main act'' you blushed and giggled.

His hand slid and touched yours, playing with your bracelet. His dark brown eyes staring through you, his voice was hot and sultry.

The drinks came not long after ordering them, both taking a sip as you stared at each other. He had been drinking before he went on stage, you smelt it on his breath as he leant forward.

''How about we drink these and get out of here?'' he suggested, his breath hot against your neck.

Your feet hitting the metal of the barstool as you thought about his question, usually you would refrain from going home with ex boyfriends but there was something about Eddie that you couldn't refuse.

''Sure'' you smirked, your eyes glistened with excitment as you drank more of your drink.

His hand in yours as you slipped out the back door as the next band began to play. His van was hidden in the shadows of the staff car park.

The drive to his felt long, the tension between his hand and your thigh was intense.

His hands and lips were instantly on you as he pushed you through the doors, gasping and moaning as he lifted your dress up. Grabbing your legs to fit around his waist as you fell into his living room, collapsing on top of each other in passion.

Grasping at every piece of skin you both could find, he agreesively ripped your underwear off you to expose your wet cunt. He growled as his head bit down your stomach, lightly kissing your clit before biting hard on your thighs.

His fingers toyed with your entrance, your cunt was already wet as his finger slowly slid inside you. Gasping in delight as his head moved up your body, sloppily kissing your neck as his fingers slid in and out of you.

Your moans were music to ears, his hair softly brushing against your skin as he quickened his pace. Hitting your soft spot, your legs moving against the carpet his hard cock grinding against your inner thigh as he sucked down on your neck.

His fingers curled inside you, getting you closer and closer to cumming. Biting your lip as your eyes watered, your body shaking as you jolted yourself through your orgasm coating his hand and floor.

He continued for a few seconds longer until your gasping quietened, he removed his fingers and slid his cock down over your clit. Slapping it hard, stinging as it twitched against his cock. He moaned onto your soft lips, as you moved his cock between the folds.

Letting him feel your wetness on his cock before edging him slowly inside you, gasping at every inch filling you up. His hands gripping onto your bare skin as he groaned in pleasure, your cunt relaxing around him as he began to thrust inside you.

''Fuck Eddie, I've missed your fat cock inside me'' you whined loudly, watching his eyes darken.

He quickened his pace at your words, moaning loudly onto your skin. The feeling of him inside you was something he had never forgotten.

''I always loved the way your pretty cunt took my cock'' he groaned, his body twitching inside you.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, forcing him to stay pounding your pussy. His fingers clasped around your throat, muffing your moans as he watched you beg for his cock.

''Give me your cock Eddie'' you stuttered, your eyes staring at him.

His cock was going hard and slow inside you, hitting your soft spot. Your wetness spiling out onto his cock, making it easier for him to fuck you.

''Give it to me'' you whined louder beneath his hands, he groaned louder.

Squeezing harder around your neck as your clit moved against his pelvic bone, clenching around his cock as you cried loudly out to him. Your body shaking as he hit your sweet spot until you felt yourself squirting hard all over him. He groaned, leaning his head back to watch your cum splash over you both.

Grinning at you as he flexed his hands around your throat, giving you seconds to breathe before he squeezed harder. His tip was twitching inside you as you came for the third time, your eyes rolling back with your shaking body.

''Fuck, you're so fucking hot. I'm going to fill your pretty cunt up'' he groaned, hitting your soft spot harder and harder.

Your legs holding him in place as you felt him cum hard inside you, continuing to thrust inside you until he knew that your cunt had taken all his load.

As you collapsed into each others arms, you both knew that wasn't the only time you would be having sex 'for the last time' that night. Eddie would fuck your cunt until it was red, swollen and sore.

Making sure as he put it 'no one else can fuck you like I can''