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msgexymunson · 2 months

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Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him?

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl)

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day.

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know.

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview.

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same.

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you.

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing.

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie.

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked.

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities.

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?”

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.”

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face.

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.”

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged.

‘It's nothing, just a dress.”

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back.

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?”

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!”

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience.

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!”

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend.

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?”

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him.

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?”

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh.

“Fifty dollars!”

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air.

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?”

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward.

“One hundred dollars!”

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham.

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten.

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels.

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face.

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?”

The man at the back called out, “right here!”

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid.

“One thirty!”

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy.

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him.

He's yours.

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here.

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer.

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand.

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!”

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering.

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you.

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin.

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes.

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?”

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie.

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.”

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him.

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?”

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?”

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down.

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?”

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual.

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her.

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.”

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.”

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone.

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.”

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-”

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared.

“-nevermind. Thank you.”

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves.

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?”

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind.

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back.

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.”

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg.

“Woof! Woo-”

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you.

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table.

“What are you doing?”

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie.

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?”

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.

“This isn't a date, Eds.”

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks.

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest.

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes.

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?”

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise.

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation.

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.”

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck.

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.”

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Let's get out of here.”

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences.

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye.

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.”

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours.

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?”

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings.

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee.

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again.

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?”

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.”

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine.

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.”

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety.

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.”

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession.

“Absolutely not.”

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?”

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain.

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.”

“What else would I do?”

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-”

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.”

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.”

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts.

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?”

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.”

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee.

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind.

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.”

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.”

“I dated Wendy to get over you!”

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means.

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip.

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?”

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut.

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side.

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back.

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips.

“I'm in love with you.”

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly.

“Huh?”

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.”

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.”

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge.

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth.

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.”

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss.

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for-

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.”

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life.

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin.

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.”

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor.

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms.

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face.

“You are so beautiful.”

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away.

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned.

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.”

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second.

“Can we go to my bedroom?”

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart.

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties.

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back.

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso.

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are.

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?”

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.”

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least.

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.”

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.”

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away.

“Do I need to put a towel down?”

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.”

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face.

“You want me to stay?”

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.”

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything.

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form.

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.”

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns.

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact.

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck.

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot.

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple.

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.”

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there.

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten.

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment.

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?”

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy.

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.”

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh.

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?”

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard.

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch.

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring.

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling.

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot.

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!”

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to? You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if-

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?”

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question.

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-”

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-”

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.”

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you.

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.”

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips.

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.”

Sweet. You sound sweet.

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment.

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion.

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!”

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair.

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed.

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down.

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?”

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you.

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.”

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear.

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused.

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.”

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.”

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him.

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again.

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.”

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk.

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.”

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince.

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut.

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.”

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-”

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes.

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction.

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?”

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire.

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.”

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in.

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!”

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks.

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.”

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.”

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving.

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head.

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?”

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again.

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.”

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet.

“Eddie, I lo-”

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?”

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him.

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!”

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem.

“Right there princess?”

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan.

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.”

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back.

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily.

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts.

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire.

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.”

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse.

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness.

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.”

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye.

“Eddie, that was perfect.”

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time.

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling.

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.”

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind.

“Right, now, just hang on.”

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat.

“I can change the sheets if you want-”

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.”

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief.

“Eddie? Can I say it now?”

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening.

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.”

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.”

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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signedkoko · 3 months

Text

Signed with Love - Overlords & Sins

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Series Parts Hazbin Cast - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!

Dear to the dearest,

You've always got me running myself sappy, but I'd like to offer my hand to you this valentines.

You know how popular Ozzie's is on Valentines, so how about a nice spot for brunch and then we pick a song to perform together tonight? Just you and I on stage, surrounded by people who wish they had what we do~

Eagerly awaiting your reply,

Prince of Lust, and yours forever;

Asmodeus

Heya lovely!

I'm so fucking excited to be spending valentines with you this year, and I don't say it enough so here it is in writing!

Normally I throw a party but I don't know, I kinda rocked with the galentines dinner you suggested, I'm thinking we invite some of our closest and have a hell of a good night, yeah?

You're the only party that matters,

Your Queenie Bee🐝

Mi vida,

I think it's about time we get away from work and the girls, how about we take valentines off?

I've always wanted to show you some of the places I used to frequent, since you always ask it only seems fair. I'm sure you'll adore the cuisine, I miss it dearly.

I'll help you get ready before we leave,

C. Carmine

Sup hottie!

How about we ditch my valentines show and leave it to the performers to take care of shit? I much rather be with ya anyways.

Anything you want, just tell me. I'll take care of everything from there babe.

Love ya more than you know,

MAMMON

Sweetest darling,

I reckon its about time I follow my own advice and pursue the one I love this valentines.

We can take a break from everything and go sight seeing! I don't get away from the town much, but everything you tell me sounds exquisite. We can go somewhere with a nice tune and I can really show you how I used to swing!

What do you say?

Your Rosie

Querida cariño,

Theres no reason for me to ask what I already know, and I don't want to hear another valentines joke about my name.

I know work has kept me busy babe, but this Valentines its just you and I. We can laze around all you want or you can drag me wherever, I'll make sure we get in.

Like a moth to a flame, eh?

Val.

Heya gorgeous,

Ive got two outfits in our sizes that could use a little test drive around town this valentines.

Already booked the photographer, so I hope you'll come model with me for my end february magazine, yeah? If you do a good job we can do dinner and drinks after, though you've never disappointed me, dolly!

You know I love you, always have & will

Velvette

Hope you're doing well, angel

You always joke that I can't write for shit so heres proof. In fact, I'm here to ask you to be my valentine.

I already know its a yes anyway, so how about I let you in on the itinerary? I got breakfast at the local spot booked with live music, an afternoon just the two of us, and for dinner I have our main reservation and a backup in case you don't like it.

Romantic or what?

Owner & CEO of VoxTek, Beloved valentine of you, Vox

Greetings,

Tis with great pleasure that thou is still by thine side after such an overwhelming year.

We must beg thou has considered indulging such an old soul in an evening of romance. Perhaps thou would dare to consider looking upon their bed, for there lays a gift.

Yours affectionately and forevermore,

Authors Note - Who are you expecting a letter from? Who will you accept? I'd love to know! Heres to another part of the valentine sseries 🖤

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luveline · 5 months

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hiiii not sure if your requests are open but if they aren’t just ignore this😭

imagine getting into an argument with james, sirius, and remus because you brought a stray kitten or something home and you really don’t have the room for a kitten

“but look at him🥺”

“no”

“🥺”

“… no” *less convincingly*

You hold the kitten in your hand. Remus strokes her head, her little damp ears. “It's not about that, Remus, I just couldn't leave her there, the box was falling apart and… I thought that only happened in movies.”

Sirius leans forward on his knees to give the kitten a stroke of his own. “She's lovely,” he murmurs, scratching under her chin and grinning when she moves into it for more. “It's too bad the flat's so small. Otherwise we could keep her.”

She's tortoise shell with a white half circle around her mouth, eyes squinted closed as she shivers. You've wrapped her in a tea towel like a blanket. She is, without a doubt, that cutest and saddest creature you've ever seen. “Where is she supposed to go, Siri?” you ask gently.

“People love cats.” Sirius puts his hand on Remus' thigh casually, giving it a loving squeeze as he settles in. “Everybody wants a kitten.”

But not everyone will be nice to a kitten. She feels like your responsibility now; how can you leave her? She's burrowed into you from the moment you picked her up, shushing and murmuring, your knees sodden in the puddle of rainwater beneath you both.

“We have to keep her, please,” you say.

There's a mutual surprise. “Dove, we can't,” Remus says. “The bathroom barely fits the toilet, shower, and sink, we'd never be able to have a litter box.”

“It wouldn't be fair,” Sirius agrees, “on us or the kitten, she'd have no room once she turns into a cat.”

You bring the kitten close to your chest and show them her helpless face. “But look at her,” you say softly, widening your eyes gently, your brows bunched together in the beginnings of heartbreak.

“No,” Remus says, shaking his head sympathetically.

You frown at him and Sirius in turn, your bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

“No,” he says again, sounding unsure.

Sirius rubs his leg. “Stay strong, my love.”

“There's just not enough room.”

You fear you may be losing this battle, and if they really don't want a cat, maybe you shouldn't force them. But then your trump card comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his neck, shirtless, grey joggers low on his hips, and you know you still have a chance.

“Wow, Jamie,” you say, not having to act very much to give your voice a hoarse rasp, “you might need to shower again.”

His smile is magnetic. “Yeah?” he asks, immediately delighted by such a brazen comment. “How's the little sweetheart? Reckon we can leave her alone?”

“She's cold still,” you say.

James visibly melts at your sad tone, while Remus rolls his eyes. “She's just trying to get you on her side, James. I've said we can't keep the cat and she's–”

“Taking advantage of her feminine wiles?” Sirius suggests.

“Cheating,” Remus finishes.

James leans over the back of the sofa between your head and Remus to kiss behind your ear, a brief press of the lips. “Why should I care? Doesn't she deserve her own way?”

“It's not as though I'm lying,” you say guiltily.

James laughs and kisses your jaw. You bring your shoulder up to your chin and flush with heat at such a simple thing, trying your hardest not to jostle the kitten in your hand as he wraps an arm around your front, resting his face against yours. The wet curls of his hair are cold on your skin, and the straight line of his jaw digs in. “I know,” he says.

“Catch on, Jamie,” Remus says.

“Shan't, won't.” Another kiss to your cheek.

“Please, Remus, I promise if you don't want her then I won't make you, but if it's about room, of course there's enough. The four of us manage to squeeze in, don't we?” You lean into James’ embrace, eyes melty-soft. You're practically batting your eyelashes at him.

Sirius flops into Remus’ lap with a resigned sigh. “If you don't say yes, I will anyway. Look at her.”

You don't know if he means the kitten or you, but you choose to believe it's you he's complimenting, and you react accordingly, your little smile pushing Remus completely over the edge.

He sighs. “Yes, alright. Fine.”

You pass James the little warm parcel of fur and use your freshly emptied hands to grab Remus by both arms. “Thank you! Aw, thank you, Remus. Sirius. I'll be so absolutely clean and if it does seem too small I promise, I won't make anyone suffer.”

“I never thought you would,” he says. “If you really want to keep her, I can't stop you. I'm your boyfriend, not a prison warden.”

“Well, we share a home–”

“I know,” he says warmly, “it's alright. Keep your kitten, dove. Looks like you've found her for a reason.”

You laugh happily and gather him up for a hug. “Oh, I love you.”

“What shall we name her?” Sirius asks around you.

“I'm not fussed. What do you like?” James asks.

Sirius meets your eyes as you and Remus pull apart. “You always get your way, hmm? Why don't you name her?”

Oh, you could hug him to death too. He looks comfortable where he is, his face on Remus thigh, hair fanned out over his joggers, and you don't want to disturb him (he's not quite as tactile as the others), so you stroke a curl from his cheek and offer him a cheeky smile. “Don't you have any ideas?” you ask.

“About you, or the cat?”

You laugh at his teasing. “Which one do you think?”

Remus nudges you in the ribs. “Don't start. If we're keeping your cat, we need to go out, don't we? You'll have to go get dressed again.”

You give them all a glowing smile and clamber off of the sofa to find your shoes.

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euovennia · 1 year

Note

headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)

anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3

pt. 2

fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:

let's get one thing straight

becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task

while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend

the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone

i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself

and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone

but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack

cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before

naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave

but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare

think 👁️👁️

he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him

it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"

to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)

but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."

he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"

he does not spit it out

from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him

the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him

these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking

he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it

and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own

and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is

so what does he do?

he tries to block you out

it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity

and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)

and the two of you become quite chummy

well

as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost

instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you

it's a surprise

a delightful one

but still a surprise

his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is

despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts

so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold

it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!

anyway

simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic

you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it

he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off

he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover

but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself

maybe having a friend isn't all that bad

and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue

until one day you don't show up

while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now

you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry

even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?

but you don't show up the next day

or the next

and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry

and a little sad and worried

but mostly angry

who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)

if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face

he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room

he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you

but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks

you got yourself sick

tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you

which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine

you nearly cry in your haze of sickness

you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much

ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship

it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days

but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday

which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks

but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"

and most times you say yes

but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)

but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free

gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man

when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary

imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling

i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway

it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it

like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in

and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand

cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."

then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot

it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you

especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission

you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment

seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?

and honestly?

you're not quite sure yourself

you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to

maybe one day you'll ask him yourself

maybe you won't

doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend

even if he doesn't refer to you as the same

he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same

regardless

you two are very much attached at the hip

what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person

he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem

soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him

gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door

price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out

it's sweet really, the friendship you have

it warms your heart thinking about it

and it warms his too

even if he won't admit it

he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to

because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend

and he's glad it's you

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bonschai · 2 years

Text

omg guys do u want some gossip from my irl life so me and my boyfriend were out with some of our friends just chilling together and as we were walking back home to our respective houses at like 12:30 am we went past our friend sam's house and were just expecting him to say goodbye go in his house but as we were leaving our other friend anna also left and we were like oh??? because she lives in the opposite direction and she just like goes into sam's house with him like literally zero subtlety just says bye guys and just followed him in so they are like definitely fucking but there was no indication of this before so us three were just like omg what

#she is ab exchange student and he is single so fair enough #but it was unexpected #well kinda expected actually #but we weren't expecting them to be so unsubtle lmao #they watched a film together with my bf while i was busy onw evening #and he left before she did #so he reckons something happened then #i'm nosy i want to know more #we will see them at work tomorrow #so that'll be interesting lmao #a talks

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lovinpelova · 1 month

Text

forgive me | n. charles

summary; you always forgive your lover.

🎵 idfc - blackbear

as soon as the gate opened for chelsea to start scoring goals you knew this wasn't going to be arsenal's night. six minutes after the first and eleven minutes after the second you were down 3-0 with no hope of your team meshing together, substitutes doing nothing apart from aiding kim in the last minute goal that took away chelsea's clean sheet.

whilst you were happy to score one goal, it wasn't enough. you were playing awfully with possession in midfield and defence as a cdm twinned with wally, both of you trying to track back and block attacks but ultimately having to rely on manu to deliver in the second half. fresh legs did nothing for arsenal and the only goal you scored was from a deflection, chelsea had gotten their revenge at stamford bridge.

with only twenty minutes to go niamh got subbed off after being tended to by the medical staff at chelsea, your mind immediately running wild with bad thoughts when you saw her holding her knee but eventually calming down when she walked off perfectly fine. the chelsea players walking off to time waste and getting more physical had earned a reaction from you, the referee gifting you a yellow card and warning you to stop protesting before she put you on a red. it's safe to say after that, a horrible team performance, remembering you had to play chelsea in the continental cup final, having a low player rating yourself and spending the night at niamh's house - you were in a foul mood.

fair enough, the game wouldn't have made much of a difference for arsenal if you'd won due to how far behind you were in goals and points, but it's the performance that was bugging you all. the league standings were the same, united too far behind for arsenal to be worrying about losing their spot, but when you're yelling at your teammates in disagreement and failing to keep possession anywhere on the pitch it starts to play a mental game on you all. chelsea took advantage of that - and whilst you congratulated them all happily with a genuine smile on your face, you couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of relief and exhaustion when you collapsed into the passenger seat of your girlfriend's car.

"good game?"

you shook your head with another deep exhale, for some reason having tears in your eyes at such a harsh loss.

"definitely not."

you replied with a wobble in your voice, niamh seemingly not registering how upset you were due to her adrenaline still pumping from such a large win. she'd been teasing you ever since you won 4-1 against chelsea last time, saying if chelsea beat arsenal when you were sleeping at hers for the weekend that she wouldn't let you live it down, but you didn't think she'd actually follow through with her promise.

"i reckon the socks gave you a bit of bad luck, don't you? i mean- nothing was working for you guys."

"yup, gathered that from the scoreline niamhy."

the defender processed her nickname as a fond expression rather than an annoyed one, continuing to rant about how good of a game chelsea had for the fifteen minute drive home whenever she had seen something that reminded her of the club or remembered a good tackle she'd made.

you'd been tuning out her rants the entire way and she hadn't noticed your dip in attitude since the final whistle blew, your fuse seconds away from blowing in fury.

"you hungry babe? actually nevermind, i'm sure you're full after having that defeat shoved down your throat."

"oh- niamh just shut up for one second would you!"

the brunette stood still in the kitchen with a shocked expression, turning to you as she watched your face writhe in anger.

"i'm sick and tired of hearing your cocky little comments every time you win against arsenal!"

"excuse me? don't act like you don't make comments when arsenal win against chelsea-"

"i do but i don't shove them down your throat and go on about it for the entire fifteen minute drive home!"

niamh pushed herself off the counter so she was stood upright, her jaw slack in shock at your sudden outburst and the way you were yelling. normally you spoke to your girlfriend about anything that was annoying you, so it seems the anger of such a big loss was still hanging over your head and making you act out.

"i'm not shoving anything down your fucking throat y/n! you need to watch your tone- it's not my fault arsenal played shit today!"

"don't you dare talk about my team like that! i didn't insult chelsea's performance when we won at the emirates, you have absolutely no right to be saying that!"

by now you'd made your way into the kitchen and were stood on the other side of the island, staring into niamh's eyes furiously as she returned the rage you were emitting. she thought tonight would be peaceful judging by your silence in the car and smile at stamford bridge when congratulating the blues, but she must have read you wrong.

"i'm not talking shit about your team, i'm telling the truth! the only goal you managed to score was off a fucking deflection! how is that a good game?!"

"i never said we had a good game! you need to shut your fucking mouth about my club and how we played tonight- you don't play for arsenal, so you don't have a say in the matter!"

"oh so all of a sudden my opinion on performances doesn't matter just because i play for chelsea, does it?!"

"shut the fuck up niamh! i'm so sick of your bullshit! go get your ego in check and come talk to me when you're done acting like a fucking toddler!"

before your girlfriend could respond you stormed off into the guest room of her apartment, angrily putting your phone on charge after slamming the door behind yourself. you could hear niamh angrily mumbling things to herself in the kitchen, soon followed by the quiet noise of her tv turning on as she seemingly resided in the living room.

you hadn't meant to lash out at niamh, it was the last thing you ever wanted to do, but with her constant teasing and cocky remarks for almost half an hour straight you couldn't help yourself. you'd blown up on each other and were now waiting to calm down, expecting the other to apologise first before remembering you were both too stubborn for your own good, soon feeling sleepy from the exhaustion of constantly running back and forth. not even bothering to get under the duvet or fluffy blanket niamh had put at the foot of her spare bed, you let sleep overcome your senses.

during the middle of the night you woke up to the door opening and closing, a body shuffling into bed behind you and wrapping strong arms around your waist with soft kisses along your shoulder and neck. quiet apologies were whispered against your skin with thumbs rubbing the muscles of your stomach to fully wake you up.

"i'm sorry babygirl. you know i can't sleep on an argument, i didn't mean to talk bad about your club like that. i was just still a bit too happy about the win."

your arm reached behind you to pull niamh further into you by her neck, sighing in comfort when you felt her continue to pepper soft kisses along your exposed skin.

"i didn't mean to insult you like that. i know how cocky you can get, i should've told you i wasn't up for teasing or just asked for space when i started getting mad."

you turned in her arms and pressed your forehead against hers instinctively, hands caressing her cheeks as you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. niamh continued to rub her thumbs across your hips in a comforting manner, both of you breathing in sync to calm down and forgive the other for lashing out. your thumbs traced along her jawline and up her chin, searching for her lips and dragging her bottom one down teasingly to let her know you were going to kiss her, the defender gladly letting you as she kissed you back softly with a smile to match your own. you pecked her lips a couple more times to test the waters, trying not to let your breathing pick up when she gripped your hips a tiny bit harsher with more intent than before.

"niamh,"

"y/n,"

she breathlessly whispered your name to match your call of hers, both of you closing your eyes and resting your foreheads together. the curtains were slightly drawn back from the window behind you- and by god, was the moonlight doing wonders for her eye colour.

"i love you baby."

your immediate response was to kiss her passionately, lingering on her lips with your thumb rubbing over her cheekbone and noses touching due to the lack of distance.

"i love you my girl."

you mirrored her words and felt her cheeks wrinkle up in a genuine smile, the defender leaning in to kiss you softly with one hand pulling you by the side of your neck as yours moved to trace along her pulse point lovingly. niamh smiled at the feeling of your fingertips trailing down her body, pulling away and biting your lip in a teasing response before you forced her to pull away by shoving her shoulder.

"turn around, i wanna be big spoon."

niamh complied to your order without any hesitation and a matching grin, turning around and reaching behind to tug your arm around her waist, kicking your leg softly when you scoffed at her eagerness and quickly sinking back into your touch with a relaxed sigh to match your own.

#woso x reader #chelsea wfc #woso imagine #chelsea women #woso fanfics #woso #niamh charles #niamh charles x reader #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea womens #england lionesses #england women #niamh charles imagine #niamh charles fanfic #england wnt

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

Now that your requests are open I need more ceo Sirius content PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Thanks for requesting! You didn't ask for smut but it's what popped into my head lol, hope this is okay

cw: smut mdni, semi-public sex

ceo!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 636 words

“Baby.” Sirius’ voice is low and smooth. Compelling. “Let me see you, dollface.”

You struggle to pick your head up from where it’s dropped off the edge of his desk, finding your boyfriend watching you from his plush chair.

“There’s my girl.” He grins, eyes glinting with humor at your flushed face. His hand strokes up and down your thigh, a soothing touch that’s completely at odds with the mess of slick between your legs.

It doesn’t seem particularly fair to you how casual he looks. Sirius is relaxing in his chair like he’s sitting in a meeting, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hair tied in a loose bun like he might’ve just pulled it back to have his lunch. Meanwhile, you’re spread half naked on his desk, seeping wetness onto the varnished wood.

His fingers dip into you, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit, and you make a choked sound.

“Breathe,” Sirius reminds you.

You roll your hips in search of more, but he stops you with a firm hand, pressing down just below your navel.

“Easy, sweetness. We’ve got all afternoon, remember? Don’t want to tire you out too early.”

“Sirius.” Your voice comes out breathy, teetering on the edge of a whine. “Come here.”

He hums and curls his fingers inside you. You make a sound like you’re dying. You might be. “That wasn’t very polite, was it?”

“Please.”

He gives up the act easily, standing and bending with his fingers still inside you to lock his lips with yours. The way he kisses you says enough about how much he’s been exercising his patience, too. Greedy passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth. Deep, long kisses punctuated by little nips. You meet him all the way, half sitting up on the desk to be closer to him even as the butt of his palm works ceaselessly into your clit.

You’re the first to break the kiss when there’s a knock on the door.

“Sir?”

Sirius sighs, but his fingers don’t so much as stutter inside you. He raises his voice to be heard through the door. “I thought I told you not to bother me, Len,” he says, a slight bite of annoyance in his tone.

“I know, I’m sorry. But Mrs. Burke’s assistant called, she wants to move her meeting to three today.”

Your chest starts to burn, and you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You keep a hand pressed over your mouth, terrified of letting out some small sound that could give you away. As if on cue, Sirius’ fingers curl inside you again. Your thighs start to tremble.

“What happened to two tomorrow?”

“She’s had to cut her trip short and will be leaving tonight. Three’s her last availability.”

Sirius frowns, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall. That means he has to have you out of here and have his office cleaned up in an hour. His eyes meet yours, flashing with challenge in a way that has your shaking worsening. He smiles, wolfish.

“You can let her know that’ll be fine,” he says. “Thanks, Len.”

He waits a few seconds for Len to go from the door, then takes your chin in his hand. “What’d we say about breathing, doll?”

You finally let the air escape you. Sirius watches amusedly, fingers still moving in and out of you at an indolent pace.

“Should I go?” you ask once you catch your breath.

Dark eyebrows flick upwards. “No,” he says, sounding almost surprised. “Didn’t you hear Len? My meeting’s not until three.” He bends close to your face, a lock of hair that’s escaped his bun brushing your cheek. “I reckon we can get at least two good ones out of you before then, don’t you think?”

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aemonds-sapphire · 1 year

Text

Take a Seat

Summary: You tell Aemond you can´t stand him. He invites you to take a seat.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Face riding. Oral sex. Aemond is a tease. Aemond's nose is amazing. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV.

Word count: 1.3k

“Aemond!”

Your screech reverberated through the walls of his bedchambers.

The young prince reckoned it wouldn’t take much longer before your angry voice was heard yet again.

“Aemond!”

There it was.

A wave of satisfaction rippled along his entire body as anticipation gradually built up.

“Where are my clothes?” you bellowed in frustration from inside the bathing room. “Your sister awaits me! I will be late.”

Truth be told, Aemond dreaded having to part ways with you this early in the morning. Selfishness might be an overstatement.

He preferred to see it as a need.

The need to have you around and all to himself.

To consume all of you.

So, he decided to hide your clothes and bath towel while you were readying yourself for another day at court.

Quite a dull a fair, in his opinion.

He could deliver so much more to you than a day of walking around behind his sister and tending to her needs.

What about his needs?

And yours?

His antics proved to be enough to kindle your anger and frustration, which would only work in his favour in the end.

The dragon always comes out victorious.

As soon as your burst into the room, dripping wet and ready to pounce him, Aemond felt a rush of blood flooding downwards in a subtle tingling sensation.

“What did you do with my clothes?” you growled, taking large steps in his direction. “I will be late!”

Aemond merely shrugged, grateful that his ever growing erection was neatly hidden away from you under the bed cover.

He watched in sheer delight as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he promptly deflected with one hand, his reflexes sharp as ever.

“You are so… infuriating!” you sighed in exasperation.

A teasing smile curled his lips. Getting under your skin had become one of his favourite pastimes. It got you all riled up with this pent-up tension that he’d so gladly fuck out of you.

But then something else crossed his mind.

Oh… you were probably going to flip at this.

But he was feeling particularly daring and willing to push you a little more than usual.

“I’m feeling feverish,” he started. “There’s this pain….”

And just as he had predicted, the visible traces of anger on your face faded into a worried look.

You sat naked on the edge of the bed, placing the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Where does it hurt?”

Aemond lifted the bedsheets, revealing his hard cock to you. “Here.”

You immediately scowled at how shameless he was.

“I was seriously worried!”

And just as you stood up and were about to smack him, he took the opportunity to grab both your wrists and had your leg swing over his body with such refined skill you were left sitting on his bare torso at lightning speed.

You tried to jerk free from his grasp. “Aemond! I’m going to be late!”

He honestly couldn’t care less. Having you fully naked and on top of him only served to further ignite his desire for you.

“Your sister awaits me near the gates of King’s Landing,” you huffed in annoyance. “We are going for a walk today.”

“I’ll fly you there on Vhagar if I have to,” he said casually, rubbing both thumbs along your pulse points. “I am sure my sister can do without you for a while, my lady.”

Once again, you yanked both arms in an attempt to break free, but all in vain. He was far too strong, and he wasn’t willing to let go of you just yet.

“I cannot stand you!” you growled menacingly.

What a blatant lie.

All that forced outrage had his cock twitch in anticipation. How he adored fucking you into submission, peeling off all those layers that you so vehemently insisted on keeping on just to have him crawl for you.

You were aware of your hold on him. If you really wanted to, you’d be able to bend him to your will.

He’d do everything and anything for you.

“Say that again.”

Your eyes narrowed with renowned defiance. “I cannot stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.”

Your eyes then widened in surprise. “What?”

Aemond wanted to let go of his hold on you have his hands cup your breasts, but he decided against it. He wanted to make sure you were fully committed to him.

“Let me taste you,” he insisted, his cock throbbing lightly.

You faltered briefly as you clenched your thighs around him. “You’re so…”

“So what, my lady?”

Aemond then let go of you, knowing fully well he had you trapped.

“Infuriating.”

“I’ll take that as compliment,” he said and with one hand, he smacked your ass lightly, but you didn’t budge.

“I… I am going to be late…”

Aemond was a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin. “Then stop wasting time and ride my face.”

You hesitated at first, but caved in eventually. He slid his pillow to the side so that he could be the perfect seat for you. Carefully, you lifted yourself from him before finally settling directly above his face.

Aemond wouldn’t mind parting ways with life with the sight of your inviting pussy as his last memory.

What a glorious way to go.

He nearly letting out a groan and a sigh of relief rumbled across his chest the moment you were fully sitting on him.

Instinctively, he brought both hands to grip your thighs. The delicious moan that escaped your lips was incentive enough for him and without much effort he parted his lips and delved his tongue deep inside you.

Delicious.

“Oh…”

You were so fucking endearing. The fact that you were still surprised that he could deliver all that pleasure with just a few strokes of his skillful tongue did wonders to his ego.

Your folds encased the corners of his mouth, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he had no intention of doing so.

Aemond was well aware of how to increase the pleasure he delivered to you.

He knew you would quiver from feeling his nose pressing into your swollen clit.

The moment he did so, his hands had to grip your thighs harder to keep you in place from all the shuddering.

An intense shiver ran down his spine as he was able to feel the pulse from your throbbing clit on his nose.

Truthfully, he simply could never get tired of how your body responded to him so eagerly.

His hips to shot up reflexively as his cock twitched from the need to be buried inside you.

“Aemond… not … not the—”

Your words faded and turned into a pleasurable moan as soon as his tongue went deeper, forcing his nose to press into you harder than before.

Aemond was still able to watch you gripping the headboard for support, before shutting his eyes as overwhelming bliss filled him. His cock throbbed with each heartbeart and the skin at the base pulling as he hardened even more.

He kept tongue-fucking you, drinking in your juices and your whimpers. Your wetness was now spreading across his chin, and he brought one of his hands to free his cock from the sheet on top, allowing it to spring free. The dire need to fuck you was ever growing.

But he had would have you reach your peak on his face rather than his around his cock.

The way his nose rubbed your clit caused your hips to buck and jerk from the stimulation, forcing his other hand to increase his grip even more on you to keep you in place as you were riding his face.

“Oh… oh… Aemond…”

You were done for.

And so was he.

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking and needy cock, yearning for nothing more than relief. It was becoming unbearable to feel your heartbeat invade his mind and travel down his body in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips. “Aemond… my prince… please…”

Aemond had no need of your words of approval or praise or bliss. He could feel your pleasure and that was all he needed.

Showing was far more saturated than telling.

The obscene slurping sounds coming from him were enough to have his hips jerk once again as he fucked his hand desperately.

He was too close.

Almost embarrassingly so.

He was aware that pumping his own cock drastically hindered his endurance. There was only so much he could withstand.

Soon enough, he felt your thighs begin to quiver erratically as he ran his tongue along the sensitive clit.

With a few more jerks from your hips, you were catapulted into your orgasm, shaking violently into his face while raking your fingers through his hair before gripping a few strands forcefully.

“Good… so good…” you cried out too lost in your own pleasure as a gush of your wetness flooded his tongue.

Not long after, he felt your legs begin spasm uncontrollably. And he didn’t just feel this because they were tightening around his head; he felt your every contraction and twitch as he brought his nose to tease your swollen bud, tongue still lodged between your soaked folds.

And that was precisely what pushed him over the edge.

The overwhelming pleasure took over him completely and Aemond reached the point of no return. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip with each spasm of his own body; the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tightened along with his balls.

No words in High Valyrian or any other tongue could do justice to the intense pleasure that took over him.

A few strands of hot liquid ran down his fingers, but he paid no mind to the mess. His own heart pounded insanely loud inside his ears and he stopped breathing for a moment as a guttural growl ripped through his throat through gritted teeth.

You slid off to the side, allowing his deep groans to echo around the bedchamber.

Aemond’d endurance was something he took pride in, but a powerful release was still enough to have him panting and feeling lightheaded. Your juices were spread across his chin and lips and jaw and nose with a few drops running down his face.

“I still cannot stand you…” you struggled to say in between pants.

He licked the excess liquid from his lips, locking his eye with your hazy ones. “Are you challenging me to bring you to your peak once more?”

“I am already late,” you protested, struggling to slide out of bed and nearly tripping as your legs wobbled from having your strained leg muscles.

Aemond couldn’t help but to chuckle as you tried your best to keep your balance.

“I will carry you to Vhagar and fly you there,” he offered. “I doubt you’ll be able to walk regardless.”

It was in moments like these that Aemond was thankful to his fast reflexes as his hand prevented yet another pillow from reaching his face.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd smut

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padfootagain · 3 months

Text

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #hozier fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oneshot

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lucid-loves · 2 months

Text

Sweet Tooth ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley One-Shot

As requested by @hellhavevibes ! Thank you so much for the fun request and for being patient while I write it. Happy Valentine's~

Sweet Tooth (One-Shot)

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, soft!reader, callsign “Glacé”)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, angst, violence, scars, blood, wounds, killing, fluff, attraction, one-shot, reader POV and Ghost POV, minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, passionate kisses, fingering, hickeys, couch sex, passionate sex, gentleness, compliments, praise, raw sex, unprotected sex (seriously though people, use birth control!)

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: You are the newest member of the 141 under the name “Glacé” which the team is skeptical about. While your file says that you are a fantastic marksman and deadly interrogator, they find it hard to believe with how absolutely sweet you are. Ghost especially finds you sweet enough to eat right up but is unsure of how you may perform out in the field. That is until you demonstrate that you are truly a force to be reckoned with during a mission. When that happens, Ghost can’t help but cave into his craving for you.

The men looked at you, confused expressions on their face as they looked at your smile that radiated nothing but pure joy. They looked at Kate who stood beside you like it was a joke. Normally, they wouldn’t judge a book by its cover. However, you were the furthest thing they imagined when Kate said that their new member was incredibly skilled, a deadly addition to the team. On the outside, you seemed like the sweetest thing to ever walk the earth. Feminine, optimistic, cute.

You noticed the odd looks that they gave you, yet you still persisted with your grin. When you spoke, your voice came out light like a songbird. “I look forward to working with you gentlemen! I hope that we become great teammates~!

“Kate, could me and Ghost speak to you for a moment.” Price spoke up with a strained smile. Laswell gave a nod and ushered for them to step outside the meeting room for a moment to speak in private. You were left with Gaz and Soap who just awkwardly tried to make small talk with you.

You weren’t surprised by this turn of events. This was actually expected. You weren’t ignorant about how you appeared to everyone else. It took a long time to prove that you were more than a cute face when you first joined the military. Even longer when you began to climb the ladder to be an exceptional soldier outside of deskwork. You had more than your fair share of discrimination and being underestimated. Now that you were a member of the 141 task force, you were even more determined to prove that you could hold your own.

That didn’t mean that you had to sacrifice your personality though!

As Ghost and Price talked to Laswell about you, you began to socialize with Gaz and Soap. It began awkwardly with them asking basic things. Where you were from, why you joined the military, all that jazz. However, the longer they talked to you, the more comfortable they got. There was still some doubt about you being cut out for this kind of work, but at least you were very nice. Eventually, you surprised them with a question. “You guys wanna hear some jokes? I got quite a few great ones if I do say so myself!”

Meanwhile, Ghost and Price expressed their concerns, Price being the most vocal about this while Ghost was his right-hand man. “Are you sure about this, Kate? I mean, she doesn’t exactly look like a killer.”

“Glacé has an impressive file that proves that she should be part of a capable team. I know she doesn’t look it, but give her a chance. If she really can’t take the heat, we can reassign her. However, she’s been working really hard to be an important asset. I doubt that she will fail based on her track record. See for yourself.” Kate vouched, handing the captain a manilla folder filled with all of your personal information.

As Price scanned through it, Ghost looked over his shoulder. His brow rose under his skull mask, almost disbelieving what he read. An impressively high accuracy score in firearms, high test scores in academics, letters of recommendations from many notable soldiers, and a special report on your interrogation capabilities. All of this was in your file along with a picture of you, bright, beaming, and brimming with happiness.

“You sure you didn’t get a file mixed up with the picture?” Ghost half-joked, holding the picture of you closer to his eyes to examine. You had the warmest gaze he’s ever seen from the photo alone.

Kate rolled her eyes and faked a laugh as she took back the file. “Very funny. Just get to know her first, okay?”

Just like that, you were a part of their team. Price and Ghost returned to the meeting room after Kate left, surprised to see Gaz and Soap wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. You just told them a joke that they really weren’t expecting. Price and Ghost cocked a brow, looking between you who giggled along with them, and the two grown men who took to you like a new candy.

“Oh! You got to hear this one, Lt. You will absolutely love this. Go ahead, Glacé! Tell ‘em!” Soap encouraged, still trying to get his laughter under control. Gaz took a tissue from the box in the middle of the meeting table, wiping his tears through fits of giggles.

With optimism, you turned and looked up at your new captain and lieutenant. “Did you know that protons have mass?”

Price thought about it for a moment before answering. This didn’t really seem like a good setup to a joke. “Yes, I did.”

“That’s a pretty basic fact.” Ghost pointed out, wondering where you were going with this. He didn’t think much of the setup either.

You tilted your head and shrugged, trying to prevent a grin from spreading across your face. It didn’t work as you revealed the punchline. “Oh! I didn’t even know they were Catholic!”

Price cracked a smile before caving, chuckles erupting from him slowly. It was hard to keep his cool with how silly your joke was and with how his sergeants were cracking up once again. Even Ghost was smirking under that intimidating mask of his, a deep chuckle escaping from him. It was a corny, stupid joke. Yet, it was clever. Dorky. Cute.

This was unexpected of you. Ghost realized that he couldn’t wait for what else you had in store.

You spent a lot of time with the boys learning about their personalities and abilities. Soap could be a bit of a goofball, but seriously loyal. Gaz was their youngest member besides you. Though, he wasn’t immature. He was optimistic like you, yet he was able to keep cooler to come off as a capable soldier. Price was hardworking and considerate, always checking in on how well you were adjusting to the team. He genuinely tried to get to know you like you were more than just a sergeant he could order around. He wanted to know you as a potential friend.

Ghost was the toughest nut to crack, but eventually, he seemed to take to you too at the present moment. He just couldn’t resist how sweet you were, always asking if he needed help, always bringing refreshments to the team during deskwork days, always walking around like the world was your oyster. The other men in the 141 saw you as their softest, sweetest teammate as well. Before he knew it, he was always watching you whenever you were in the room or even across base.

You were talking to some of the new recruits on base who had questions about your progress. While you gave them some advice on how to outlast the worst of being a newbie, you spotted Ghost from a distance. With no shyness, you raised your hand up high and waved. “Hi, Ghost!”

Saying a goodbye to the newbies, you sprinted over to where he was, finding yourself to be quite attracted to him naturally. You were curious about him. The mask made him mysterious, his uniform made him intimidating. Yet, he shared some of his own jokes with you, revealed his favorite drink, and helped you around base with things you were a little too short or small for. Ghost had rough edges, but you somehow knew that he was secretly a big softie.

Besides that, opposites did seem to attract. Standing next to him, you looked like the sweetest thing alive while he seemed like the deadliest thing alive. It was an odd pairing from the outside. You paid it no mind, though. All you cared about was earning his approval.

“How are you doing, Glacé? Making new friends?” He inquired as you got closer, looking at the group that you were just talking to from afar. There were a couple of guys in the group whose eyes still lingered on you despite walking away. It stirred something in him, yet he didn’t know what.

“I think so? I mean, they just kinda came up to me and asked about my accomplishments and advice. I guess they saw a few records around base with my name. I like talking to new people though, so I didn’t mind! It made me feel a bit like a celebrity which is fun!” You chipperly answered, your expression bright like the sun.

Ghost looked down at you, his heart not being able to soften up at your softness. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun. I was on my way to the mess hall for some tea.”

“Can I come with? I’ve been craving a mug of hot cocoa lately. Something sweet, you know?” You asked with a grin that he couldn’t possibly say no to.

“Fine, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

You walked by Ghost’s side to the mess hall, the space relatively clear since it was later in the afternoon. Like an energetic shooting star, you rushed to the open kitchenette where soldiers could help themselves to making coffee, tea, and other simple drinks. Opening the cabinet, you spotted your favorite mug on the top shelf. A pink one with cute little strawberries on it. Someone had moved it to the top shelf to make room for other mugs on the lower shelf.

Just as you were about to jump up and get it, you felt Ghost start to press into you from behind. His firm, broad torso radiated heat against you, causing you to form a wicked blush. Carefully, he brought your mug down and held it in front of you to take.

Looking down at your blushing cheeks, he realized what he had done to you. For the first time, you seemed bashful and his heart melted. Yours did too from the gesture, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes met his blue ones. Nonetheless, you stayed openly polite. “Thank you! It isn’t easy being shorter than most around here. When I put it away, I’ll make sure to put it on the bottom shelf so I can reach it next time. I’ll make your tea for you as a token of my gratitude~”

“You don’t have to do that, Glacé. It was nothing really.” He brushed off, feeling just a tad bit shy himself as his heart quickened for you.

You waved him off. “Nonsense! Here, I’ll make your tea exactly how you like it! Which one is your mug?”

Ghost moved to open the small cabinet that was over the fridge, taking out a simple, black mug with a skull on it. Of course. What else did you expect?

Taking his mug with a little laugh at your internal thoughts, you began to fix him his tea, his eyes watching you work. You filled an electric kettle with water and set it to boil before going to the pantry to get tea and cocoa. From the bottom cupboard, you took out a small pot followed by taking out some milk from the fridge. The kitchenette had a small hotplate to which you used to start heating up your milk.

Ghost raised a brow at the amount of effort you were putting in. Most people sucked it up and used hot water for their instant hot chocolate.

When the kettle boiled until the button clicked, signaling that it was done, you prepared the mugs. Using Ghost’s favorite black tea, you poured the water into his mug, the color quickly turning into a dark brown. When the milk came to a simmer, you cut the heat and poured it into your own mug, the color turning into a much softer shade of brown. With the leftover milk, you lightened Ghost’s tea to the perfect shade that he liked. A small pinch of sugar later and his tea was made to perfection.

You handed him the mug, the liquid still swirling in a whirlpool from you recently stirring it. He couldn’t deny it, the look of it was exactly how he liked it. Lifting his mask halfway up his face to drink, it tasted like it too. How did you know he liked his tea like this?

He stood for a moment, watching you put the finishing touches on the drink. You pulled some whipped cream from the fridge, topping your cocoa with a beautiful, white swirl of sweetness. While you put the box of tea and cocoa back into the cupboard, you got yourself a jumbo marshmallow and gingerly set it on top of the cream.

With an excited little giggle, you turned around and headed to a small table to rest, Ghost following right behind you. As soon as you sat down, sitting across from each other, Ghost had to pull his mask back down to hide his smile. Looking at your pink strawberry mug, the marshmallow and whipped cream topping your cocoa, and you right behind it with a satisfied expression made you look absolutely adorable. How could such a sweet thing like you be a killer?

You took a sip of your hot chocolate, whipped cream getting on your cute nose and the corners of your small mouth. Without thinking, Ghost took his thumb and gently wiped your face, getting the whipped cream off for you. You blinked at him in surprise as he licked it off his thumb, the light sweetness melting on his taste buds.

Now, your cheeks were turning bright red like the painted strawberries on your mug, stomach filling with millions of butterflies that danced to the beat of your rapid heart. Did Ghost really just do that? Were you hallucinating? No, he definitely just did that. The scene kept replaying over and over in your head. He one hundred percent just did that.

Frozen in your blush, Ghost looked at you, blinking himself as he processed what he just did so naturally. Behind the mask, his own face felt warm. He cleared his throat, lifted his mask to reveal his mouth, and hid it behind his mug of tea. “You had a little something on your face.”

“Ah, aha. . . I see. Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed, your heart still going a million miles per hour. Lifting your mug to your own lips, you looked at Ghost just above the mountain of sugar. For a moment, you wished that he kissed the cream directly off your face.

His military beige shirt clung tightly to his muscles, revealing years of training to be strong. Battle scars ran along his arms, some camouflage by his black and white forearm tattoo sleeve. He was built strong, tall, powerful. Delicious in his own way. You couldn’t help but stare at such a handsome, capable man. Even with the skull balaclava.

When his eyes met yours again, you averted your gaze, thoughts running rampant. Oh boy, you think you were starting to fall for your lieutenant.

Silently, you enjoyed your drinks, stealing glances at each other every now and then. When your mug was completely empty, you motioned to go clean it up. However, Ghost put his hand on top of the brim, making it stay on the table. “It’s okay. I will clean it up. Least I can do for making our drinks.”

A warm smile graced your features. “Thanks, Ghost. I appreciate it.”

Taking a glance at your watch, you gasped. “Ah, I’m late to my workout! I gotta get going before I lose my reserved room! I’ll see you later! Thanks for cleaning up!”

He waved as you hurried out of the hall to head to your workout. A soldier needed to stay in tip-top shape at all times, so he wasn’t particularly sour at your departure. Though, your sudden absence did make him feel a bit lonely.

However, that feeling quickly disappeared when his eyes wandered around the mess only to see his teammates across the room. They were in the middle of playing cards with their own drinks, their attention completely on everything that went down between the two of you. Even the part where he ate the leftover whipped cream from your face. Their expressions were mixed between shock and amusement.

Ghost shook his head, a signal for them to not say a fucking word about it to him or you. Downing the last of his tea, he grabbed the mugs to wash. After washing them, he paused for a moment, looking at your cute cup. Then, he put it back on the top shelf of the cupboard before closing the doors.

For the first time, the 141 was assigned their first mission that included you. During the briefing, you listened carefully, taking in every single detail like it was life or death. The men listened carefully as well, yet their minds did wander towards how you would perform in the field. They’ve never seen anything but pure sweetness from you. Price had deep conversations with you like you were a close friend. Soap finally had someone that would participate in car karaoke with all his favorite songs with him. Gaz enjoyed watching shows with you that no one else seemed interested in.

It was Ghost that was having the toughest time compared to everyone else concerning you. You two had been sharing drinks in the mess hall a few times a week to spend time together. Talking, playing cards, even just reading. You always had your hot cocoa, he always had his tea. You always used your pink strawberry mug, he always used his black skull mug. You always had your mug on the top shelf, he always got it for you while pretending that he had no idea who kept moving your mug back up there.

Could you really take a life?

The answer was yes, you could. And you planned to when you were given your target, a dangerous terrorist that had plans to attack a small city in South America with the intent to take over. A man that was desperate to be a dictator to the point where he was killing innocent people. A man that wouldn’t stop at just taking over his city. Until he took over the whole country and more, he would never stop.

Someone like that had to be taken down. You were happy to be part of the team to do it.

Just before you board the plane to take the team to their destination, Ghost pulled you to the side for a moment for a pep-talk. “Glacé, this is your first mission with us. Are you nervous at all?”

You shook your head, standing at full attention. “Not at all, lieutenant! This is what I trained for. You can count on me to do what needs to be done.”

He stared at you skeptically, worry still invading him through knots in his stomach. “If anything happens, let us know immediately. We’ll help you out as much as we can. We’ll protect you.”

“I appreciate it, Ghost. I’ll protect all of you as well.” You promised before you finally got on the plane. Following close behind you, Ghost boarded as well. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared for you. He considered you a close friend at this point. Maybe even more. You were just so soft, so sweet that he couldn’t imagine you being anything other than a beautiful soul that he had to protect. He didn’t want to lose you. Not so soon.

Little did he know that you were more than ready for this. Excited even! This was your chance to really prove yourself. To show everyone in your team that you could step up to the plate. You loved spending time with everyone, especially with Ghost as your feelings for him grew. However, they all still looked at you like you were just a sweet girl. You needed them to start looking at you like a capable member of their team. Like a deadly weapon when it came down to it.

You were dropped down into a jungle, the weather hot, sticky, and humid. Sweat was already clinging to your skins, the cover of your armor not helping beat the heat. Quietly, the team traversed the jungle, trying to find the compound belonging to the terrorist organization. They weren’t given pictures or precise coordinates, just general coordinates since the compound was well hidden among the jungle.

In the cover of night, the 141 crept along, guns ready to be fired at any threat. You carried your own weight well, being able to handle your armor and gear easily on your body, despite how you look without it. It didn’t slow you down one bit. In fact, you felt light as a feather with confidence.

From a distance, you noticed a light. A dim one, but a consistent one. Unmoving. You spoke into your headset. “Light ahead at our ten o’clock. Could that be the compound?”

“Could be. Nice catch, Glacé. Approach carefully.” Price praised, leading the way to the light.

Brushing past massive leaves as well as weaving through giant trees, the light revealed a collection of more lights, all coming from abandoned village buildings that were now a terrorist compound. The team crouched down into the lush jungle foliage, watching men move about the compound with guns in their hands. Crates of dangerous items were being moved across the clearing, something that would have to be confiscated as part of the mission.

Overall, the compound was huge. Much bigger than expected. There were enough buildings to host many terrorists, weapons, food, and even prisoners. Satellite photos were none the wiser as most of it was under thick canopy or painted green to match the jungle green.

Most importantly, the 141 was trying to spot the main target, the leader of this whole operation. When the man was spotted moving from one building to the other. Instantly, Price formed a plan in his head. “Gaz, Soap, head west to take out some men. If things go south, we want to make sure we won’t have to fight our way out of too many enemies. Ghost, Glacé, head east and do the same. See about finding their bombs too. The ones that they planned to use on the city. I’m going to find their prison, help out anyone that may be held captive. Securing all those things before going after the leader is essential.”

“Yes, Captain.” Everyone agreed, splitting up into their respective directions. Sticking to the foliage, you and Ghost slithered around the east of the compound. Watching the guards to observe their moves, you both began to infiltrate further into enemy territory without being spotted. Up ahead, a guard stood with his back turned. You swapped your gun for a knife, the silent weapon being the best bet in a situation like this.

Before Ghost could do or say anything, you silently stalked the man until he was close enough to grab. Bringing him down and slapping your hand over his mouth to stifle any sound, you quickly swiped your knife across his neck. The sound of gurgled struggle lasted for only a second. Once he was limp, you dragged him back to hide the body in the shadows.

The whole ordeal didn’t last more than a minute. It happened so fast that Ghost thought it didn’t even happen at all for a moment. You didn’t give it a second thought as you clung to the wall of a small building, eyeing a small open window that you could hop through.

Peeking up, you spotted three men with rifles who were checking an assortment of more guns on the table. Hand signals from you silently gestured to Ghost that there were three enemies inside. Using more hand signals, it was agreed that he would take the two on the left and you would take the one on the right. With a nod, you jumped through the window and rushed your enemy, the knife slicing into his neck like butter.

Ghost shot the first target with a pistol with a silencer attachment followed by running his own knife through the other man’s jugular. All before they could even comprehend what was happening.

Your ears picked up a subtle sound of footsteps against dirt just outside. Right behind Ghost. In a quick draw, you raised your pistol towards the door and shot an enemy as soon as he opened the door. Ghost caught the body, carefully laying him on the floor to avoid sounds that would give you away.

As you began to search the place for any important information, Ghost looked at you almost incredulously. You worked like a well-oiled killing machine. Precise, silent, swift. Your sharp ears saved him. Your file wasn’t lying. You were clearly made for this line of work.

That fascinated him in an attractive way. It lit a fire in him. He couldn’t wait to see more.

With a profound courage from pride to work by your side, Ghost began to search the place with you. Ultimately, you found nothing. That meant that it was time to move on to the next building.

You felt good showing off, taking out one enemy after the other with minimal sound. Ghost had more confidence in giving you instructions, ordering you to take down more enemies while he handled his own. When you came across a building with a ladder, a guard standing on top of the building, you took it upon yourself to take care of it. From a mini-alley made by two houses, Ghost snuck forward to take down two guards. Just as he killed one of them off, you jumped down from the rooftop only to land on his second enemy and plunge your knife into him.

Your kill count was becoming higher than his. However, he didn’t mind whatsoever. Every now and then, you looked back at him with the sweetest smile that hoped for a little praise. Without fail each time, he gave it to you. It was a treat watching you light up when he did, only to take his praise as motivation to keep taking out enemies.

In a strange way, he was having fun. You were too. There was nothing like ridding the world from evil with the men you trusted.

The only problem was that each building was bare of what you were looking for. None of the buildings you cleared had the explosives you needed. Not even the larger buildings. When you had practically cleaned up the whole east side of the compound without finding them, Ghost radioed the captain. “East side cleared. No sight of explosives. Waiting for further instructions.”

“Copy. Gaz, Soap, any sight of the bombs?” Price responded.

“Negative, Captain. Only more terrorists.” Gaz responded promptly.

“Keep searching. We have to secure them. I’m exiting the prison now to help the search.” Price ordered, his tone frustrated from the lack of progress on that front.

While everyone said their “Copy that,” you began to think. At this point, you should have come across something. If Gaz and Soap had swept through their side already, the explosives should have been found. There was no way any of you could miss those bombs. There was supposed to be enough to cause a huge part of the city to crumble.

That meant that there were only two options of where the explosives were. They were either in the leader’s building, or worse, they were already planted.

Fearing the worst, you spoke through your radio. “Captain, I may know where the explosives are. They are either hiding in the building where the terrorist leader is or they are already planted in the town, waiting to be detonated.”

Ghost looked at you wide-eyed, admiring your deduction skills, yet also fearing your words. If the latter was true, then they were running out of time.”

“New plan. Everyone head to the leader’s building. Find the explosives. If they aren’t there, then we have no choice but to take that terrorist back for interrogation.” Price decided, trusting your intuition.

As fast and quietly as you could, you ran through the compound, taking out any enemies that stood in your way like it was nothing. At this point, you didn’t even bother sneaking around. Instead, you were moving so quick and light that you were rushing guards before they could draw their weapons. You were ruthless in getting to your objective. You left almost no one for Ghost to take care of.

Down a little ways was Soap and Gaz, trying to book it as fast to the building that you were already entering. Using your pistol, you took out the guards with deadly accuracy. As the boys caught up behind you, they saw the destruction you left in your path. Bodies dead from your single headshot littered the floors, all done with barely a sound thanks to your silencer. Soap cursed in shock as he stepped over bodies in the hall. “Holy shit. Who knew that the lass could do something like this?”

“Just be glad she’s on our side.” Gaz responded, equally impressed by your kills.

Ghost gave a dry chuckle, pride swelling within him. “Should’ve seen her in action. Glacé is like a machine.”

A minute later and all the men found you in a room, an unconscious target taped to a chair with two dead guards bleeding on the floor. Price was deeply impressed, but his words of praise would have to wait. Right now, they needed to know where the explosives were. “Any bombs?”

“Negative, Captain. Text messages from the leader’s phone reveal that the bombs are set in place in town, though.” You answered, passing him the phone you swiped after you roundhouse kicked the target.

While Price read through the messages, the target groaned, coming back too. His eyes fluttered open, anger spreading throughout his face as he saw the 141 look down on him. Price cut to the chase, his tone threatening with each word. “Give us every single location of the bombs you planted. Now!”

“Fuck you!” The leader simply responded, spitting blood onto the floor. A bruise already began to form on the side of his face where you kicked him. As his rageful eyes looked between the men, he smirked. He didn’t plan on cracking.

Ghost waltzed up and punched him, a crack resounding in the room from a broken tooth. In response, it was simply spit out followed by a wicked smile. He chuckled. “You really think that’s gonna make me talk? Breaking my jaw? You’re gonna have to try something else.”

“I can break him!” You spoke up, your features soft as if you weren’t watching a bloody interrogation. Price and Ghost’s gaze snapped to you, a little shocked that you were volunteering so cheerfully. They remembered that your file mentioned that you were great in interrogations. How could a sweet thing like you get someone so evil to talk?

Well, they didn’t have many other options. Price nodded. “Soap and Gaz, keep watch at the door. Take care of anyone that may cause a problem.”

“Aye, Captain.” They simultaneously confirmed before camping at the doorway. Then, Price and Ghost took a step back, allowing you all the space you could possibly need. This oughta be good.

You grabbed a spare chair, dragging it across the floor to set right in front of the terrorist. Taking a seat, you smiled at the man. A sickly sweet smile that unsettled him for some reason. However, he played it off with vile insults. “This is your secret weapon? A fucking chick? What is she gonna do? A little whore like her won’t make me talk unless she sucks my dick.”

Fury rose in Ghost’s soul as he talked to you like that. His jaw clenched and his muscles tenses, aching to beat the shit out of the target. He stepped forward, almost caving into his rage before Price put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. The captain wanted to punch the man senseless, too, but they had to trust that you were able to do this.

You merely laughed off the insults, finding his attempts to intimidate you pathetic. “Oh, come on now. That’s not very nice. Did someone forget who roundhouse kicked you unconscious? Give me a little more credit. Anyway, the bombs. Give us every location, please~!”

His eyes widened at your rather playful attitude, the unsettling feeling growing past his stomach and into his heart. Still, he kept his mouth shut, his voice turning into a low growl. “Even if you ask me nicely, I won’t tell. That town deserves to burn to the ground. A new world will be built upon its ashes.”

With a sigh, you shook your head. “Oh well. I tried to play nice. I guess we will have to do this the hard way. Don’t blame me for what happens next~”

Without explaining any further, you unsheathed your knife. The chair was dragged behind the target after you got up, allowing you a new place to sit that revealed exactly what you wanted. Sitting behind him, you began to cut his shirt away to reveal spine. “Ghost? You mind bending his body forward for me? Keep the legs of the chair on the ground, though. Just stretch him.”

Quirking his brow out of curiosity, Ghost walked forwards and followed your instructions. He had no idea where you were going with this. Once the target was in position, the bones of his neck and spine stuck out against his skin nicely. You counted the bones, starting from the bottom using the tip of your blade.

As soon as you had your count, you glided your knife against his T12. “Feel that? That’s your T12. This little vertebrae helps you use your legs. A fracture here doesn’t completely paralyze you, but it will be quite uncomfortable. You may feel a little numb in one leg along with back pain. Now, tell us where the bombs are planted, please~”

A shaky laugh was given, trying to call your bluff. As you worked, shivers ran across the 141’s own spines. This was your method? Spinal cord knowledge? You were both a genius and the scariest person in the room right now. Ghost, who had a front row seat, saw how you positioned your knife handle with careful accuracy.

“You think I’m afraid of a little pain and numbness?” The target mocked, his anxiety growing in secret.

Without warning, you hit his T11 with the handle of your knife. A crack resonated throughout the room along with screams of pain. Searing pain went through his body, tears threatening to escape his eyes. Parts of his body began to go numb. “AHHH! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“That was actually your T11. A fracture here is much more painful. Recovery isn’t out of the realm of possibility yet, though. Where are the bombs?” You casually explained, your tone still light as if you were drinking hot cocoa with Ghost in the mess hall back on base.

The target choked on his breath, the pain feeding the growing anxiety that traveled through all the nerves he could still feel. Still, he refused to confess with a shaky breath. Ignorance was bliss for him. He had no idea how much worse it could get. “Th-This is nothing! Fuck you, whore!”

Another blood curdling scream filled the room as you fractured another part of his spine with ease. Severe kidney pain with his back flared up like fire inside him. You might as well just have stabbed him directly in the kidney. “That was your T9, a vertebrae connected to your adrenal glands. Fascinating that the spine is connected to more than just simple nerves, huh? Controls more than just movement. The spinal cord is actually incredibly important to the function of the whole human body”

“YOU BITCH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!” He screamed, tears now uncontrollable from the pain. It wasn’t just the immediate pain that haunted him, though. It was the fact that if you kept going, if he didn’t seek treatment soon, he could suffer from paralysis for the rest of his life.

“The bombs. Where are they? If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to hit your C5 next. This one won’t hurt, but the long-term side effects won’t be pretty.” You pressured once again, your knife handle slowly traveling further up his spine.

Stubborn as a mule, he steeled himself and shook his head, refusing to speak. You clicked your tongue like a disappointed school teacher. “By the way, my name is Glacé. They call me that because I tend to sugarcoat things.”

The scream that followed as soon as you shattered his C5 was unforgettable. It was bound to keep even some of the members of the 141 up for a couple nights. Your psychological game combined with your physical one was outstanding. Apparently, someone as sweet as you could really bring a man to incoherent screams and tears.

“Please, no more. I-I can’t feel my legs. . .” The target cried, his pants becoming darker in color as he soiled himself. Such was one of the side effects of injuring the C5. Loss of bowel and bladder control was quite common. Paralysis of the trunk and legs as well.

You didn’t pull away yet, your knife raising further up to his C3 which controlled his breathing along with more motion function. However, you didn’t tell him that. You didn’t need to. “Every single bomb. If you neglect to mention one, then I will have no problem coming back to fracture more of your spine. Not that you would be able to escape very far with your legs now~”

With a solemn nod and sob of defeat, he revealed each and every location of his planted bombs throughout the nearby city. Along with the detail that the explosives were actually already set on a timer. They were all set to detonate by noon the next day on the dot. After the locations were taken down, you patted the target’s shoulder. “Thank you for the information. However, keeping you alive would be an act of disservice to the world~”

A hard force to his C3 had him spasm, drowning out all sounds with his cries until he lost the last of his breath. Struggling to breath, the man began to slump, losing control of his diaphragm from the injury. It wouldn’t take him long to die out due to this. Not before experiencing some time of pure suffering, though.

The compound itself held no more enemies, the last of them being killed by Soap and Gaz when they came to check on their boss. When no enemies were in sight once the team stepped outside, Price radioed Kate with the new information. While you walked back through the jungle to reach the rendezvous point where a helicopter would pick you up, Ghost kept stealing glances at you.

All he could think about was how beautifully you performed. Terrifying, yet your tone was still sweet until the end. The way you did your job so accurately, so ambitiously, it was like watching art.

If he wasn’t in love with you before, he was definitely in love with you now.

Police ran everywhere around the city, helping find the bombs that were ticking down. One by one, they were diffused. Each one was reported after the job was done, Kate keeping a list which was checked off with each find and diffusing. The team was split up, each one of you assigned to diffuse bombs yourself with your own squad of local authorities.

At first, the authorities didn’t know how to react when they realized that you were in command of them. However, there wasn’t time to debate. They followed your instructions to a tee, finding the explosives diligently. It was pretty clear why you were in charge after the first few bombs were diffused.

“South side cleared. Good work, Soap.” Kate praised through the radio, allowing everyone to know that the south side of the heart of the city was safe. Soon after, Gaz’s north side was cleared followed by Price’s west and Ghost’s east. You were still working on the central center, the bombs hidden more carefully.

“Glacé, how are we doing? I still have two bombs left unchecked on my end.” Kate radioed you, concern starting to show through her voice. It wasn’t noon yet. There were still a few hours before then. However, anything could go wrong. It was better to find all of them as quickly as possible to avoid any accidents.

“Still searching for the last two. They’re better hidden than the others.” You confessed, your short-term squad searching the entire building for them behind you. You were searching under cubicles, under chairs, in vents, on ceiling fans, everywhere that you could possibly think off.

“Everyone, head over to where Glacé is to help her. Bring your squads too. The more eyes, the better.” Kate instructed. Everyone agreed, the men making their way across the city to you in armored cars.

You raked your eyes over the floor you were on. Nothing but cubicles as far as the eye could see. Papers scattered everywhere from the search. Authorities scrambled to find the last bombs. Taking a deep breath, you continued your search, hoping to find the explosives before the rest of the team gets to you.

“Sergeant Glacé! There’s a closet hidden back here behind the filing cabinets!” One of your squad members called out. The men pushed the cabinets back to access the closet. When one of the men began to open the door, you saw a brief shine. A glimmer so quick that you could’ve missed it if you blinked. A trip wire.

“STO-”

Everything flashed white followed by a wave of heat. The shockwave sent you to the floor, disorientating you to the point of nauseousness. The sound of concrete and pipes breaking were deafening. Another explosion sounded off from the floor above, the first bomb triggering the second. The whole building shook like an earthquake hit it. The floor above began to crumble away over you. Pieces of it already began to rain down upon you. With the little strength you had left, you crawled under a cubicle, the desk protecting you as the falling building caved you in.

Then, you blacked out.

On the outside, the team saw the shattering glass, the burst of fire and smoke, and parts of the building already beginning to crumble. Ghost’s blood ran cold, his heart stopping in its tracks. Being the man behind the wheel of the armored vehicle, he floored it suddenly. The only thing on his mind was getting to you.

The 141 frantically radioed you, panic in their voices as they tried to make sure that you’re okay. When they heard no answer, fear began to take hold. This was your first mission with them, but they weren’t ready to lose you. Not with how much you meant to all of them. Especially Ghost.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the tall building. Without even taking the keys out of the ignition, the men exited the vehicle and ran into the building. Thankfully, the foundation kept it standing.

“Laswell! What were the locations of the last missing bombs?!” Price contacted Kate, trying to help the team save time from searching every floor for you. There was no time to waste if you were dying.

“Fourteenth floor and sixteenth floor! I’m sending medics your way now! Be careful of debris.” Kate relayed, already working on getting medics and a helicopter to you. Sprinting up the stairwell, the men reached your floor. When they opened the door, they began to cough from all the smoke and debris left behind in the explosives’ destruction. Treading carefully, they began to search the rubble.

Your squad members were scattered, many of them pinned, many of them dead. Gaz, Soap, and Price began to drag them out, praying that the medical team would arrive soon. Ghost focused on looking for you. That’s all he really cared about.

“Glacé! Glacé! Y/n!” He called, eventually using your real name that he remembers from your file. Piles upon piles of concrete made his anxiety get worse and worse. The longer he searched, the longer he couldn’t hear you respond, the more panicked he got.

Eventually, you began to stir awake, a brain-splitting headache taking hold. You coughed dust out of your lungs, your throat drier than a desert. Your skin felt dirty, caked with dust. Your ears were still ringing, but you could hear Ghost calling out for you. He used your real name. Slowly, you raised your aching arm to your radio. “Simon?”

When Ghost heard you call out his real name from his radio, he almost collapsed with relief. You were alive. His voice shook when he replied back to you.“Y/n! Where are you?”

“Under a cubicle. I’m caved in by debris. I don’t think I can push the concrete by myself right now. I’m okay, though.” You sugarcoated. One of your ribs definitely felt broken. The pain was sharp and it was a bit hard to breathe.

“Hang on, we’re gonna get you.” Ghost promised, already pulling away collapsed concrete with his hands. Price and Soap joined him, taking crowbars to pull away at the rubble around the cubicles. Gaz focused on saving more men from your squad on Captain’s orders.

Finally, you could see glimpses of light from your team moving what was caving you in. The sudden bright light when the large piece of rubble made you wince, no windows to prevent the sun from hurting your eyes. When your vision came back, the first thing you saw was Ghost’s skull mask. He looked like he was close to tears when he saw you.

You gave him a weak smile as he helped you out from under the desk. Instead of helping you stand though, he pulled you in for a hug, cradling you in his arms. He thought he almost lost you.

When he squeezed just a little too tightly, you hissed. That broken rib of yours was starting to really hurt now. He looked down at you, examining how you automatically held your ribcage. “Your ribs are broken. You’re not okay.”

His scolding tone was light, but you still felt bad. “Yeah. . . I’m sorry. . .”

“We’ll discuss this later. Right now, you need medical attention. A helicopter should be here any moment.” He sighed, feeling guilty at how sorry you looked. Ghost didn’t mean to make you feel so bad. However, he didn’t like how you sugarcoated the truth to him. Even if it was to prevent him from panicking too much.

Right on cue, the sound of the helicopter began to fill the air. Dust kicked up as the blades whirled closer to the side of the building, right near the broken windows. Nikolai expertly handled the flying machine, getting as close as he could so you could board. Kate held out her hand for you to take once your team got you back on your feet.

As soon as you were aboard, the helicopter began to head to the safehouse so you could receive your medical attention in peace. The local hospital was sure to be full of men that your team just helped save.

Ghost watched the helicopter disappear into the distance, nerves still feeling unsteady as if this was the last time he would see you. A hand landed on his shoulder, snapping him out of his dark thoughts. Soap gave a supportive grin. “She’ll be okay. She’s sweet, but also tough as nails.”

It’s been eight weeks since Ghost last saw you. All that time was spent recovering in your apartment off base. While he wanted to visit you, he didn’t want to intrude. Your text messages were the only thing that let the team know that you were safe as well as taking it easy. Doctor’s orders.

You were missing your team as well. Especially Ghost. Every day you missed him more and more. Making him tea, the teakwood smell of his cologne, his baritone voice. You often thought about the way he hugged you last time you saw him. How close he held you.

There were little things that would make you think about him in your apartment as well. Whenever you had to open your kitchen cupboard, you thought about how he would always get your mug for you, often standing behind you with his chest close to your back. You knew that he was putting your mug on the top shelf on purpose. It was obvious since he always cleaned up your mug after you left. You always gave him a chance to confess, but he always played innocent.

As you stood in front of your cupboard now, trying to pick out a cute mug, you giggled from the memories. By now, you were fully healed, but the doctor recommended giving it another couple of days with light exercise to help adjust back into work before actually being on base again.

Being a perfect patient, you followed every order. Now though, you were bored. Normally you could keep yourself occupied for a while all by yourself. And you did for as long as you could. Now, you wanted at least some good company.

An idea dawned upon you, causing you to pull out your phone and send a text to Ghost. You invited him to your apartment for drinks, the usual tea and cocoa to create more normalcy in your life. It didn’t take long for him to reply, saying that he was on his way.

In a little less than half an hour, there was a knock at your door. You got up and opened it, greeting him warmly with a bright smile and a tight hug. “I missed you~”

Simon lost his breath when he saw you for the first time in eight weeks. You were dressed in civilian clothes, something he’s never really seen before. The sky blue skinny jeans you wore paired with your white blouse made you look like the perfect little housewife. A special treat he could just eat right up.

God, he missed you. He’s been dying to see you again to not only work with a beauty like you, but to also finally confess his feelings to you. “I missed you too, y/n. Let’s head inside, yeah? I got something important to tell you.”

You gave him a quick, tight squeeze before letting go, ushering him into your cute apartment. Everything in your space matched your soft personality. Cute colors on the walls, healthy plants near windows, white furniture with flowers painted on. He would’ve never guessed that you were a beast on the battlefield based on your apartment alone. Knowing that you were felt like a special secret that only he knew.

“Thanks for coming over by the way! It’s been a little lonely being here by myself. I kinda did all the things that usually entertain me already when I was first ordered to recover at home. Anyway, I got your favorite tea! Just give me a moment to make it for you.” You rambled, missing being able to talk to the person you cared about.

A hand on your shoulder stopped you from waltzing into your kitchen. “Oh no you don’t. While I’m here, you’re taking it easy. I’ll make the drinks. You sit on the couch and wait. Put on some of your favorite music at the most.”

His stern tone sent a little shiver through you, cheeks growing red as he stirred something inside you. “O-Oh! Okay! If you need any help, let me know!”

With a pep in your step you headed to your soft couch. Settling in with a fluffy blanket, you grabbed the TV remote and turned on some light music. Not too loud so you would be able to have a conversation with Ghost.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Simon was doing his best in making your drink just how you liked it. While he’s seen you do it many times, he was still nervous about screwing it up somehow. He picked out two different strawberry mugs for the both of you, filling each one with hot cocoa mix. Just like you did, he waited for the milk to simmer, poured them into the mugs, and gave them a gentle stir. He found whipped cream in your fridge which he used on both of the mugs. When he put the whipped cream back, he noticed a leftover bar of chocolate in your fridge. It didn’t look bitten into. Rather, a corner of it seemed shaved off.

Grabbing it and finding mini marshmallows in your pantry, he finished off the mugs with chocolate shavings and marshmallows on top of the whipped cream. The cream didn’t look as pretty like when you did it, but the chocolate shavings helped make it look not so bad.

Taking the mugs, he carried them to your living room only to see you waiting patiently for him, a big smile on your face that was contagious. Simon handed you your mug before settling into the couch beside you.

You eyed his mug, surprised that he didn’t opt for his usual tea this time. The strawberry-shaped cup in his large hands didn’t quite match his military image. He was still in camo pants and the classic military beige shirt like he just came from base. “I thought you didn’t have much of a sweet tooth for things like this.”

“I didn’t until I met you.” He admitted, leaving you unsure if that was meant to be flirty or not. Either way, it sent the butterflies in your tummy into a frenzy.

You took a sip of cocoa, the chocolate-covered whipped cream melting on your tongue. Simon observed you, watching your expression to morph into satisfaction or disgust. A weight was lifted off his shoulders as you beamed at him, making his own heart skip a beat. “It’s delicious! Thank you~”

He nodded silently, debating his next move. Ultimately, he decided that he was ready to give you everything he had to offer. Removing his mask off completely, you saw his face for the first time. You almost choked on your marshmallow as you took in how handsome he was.

Chiseled features, beautiful blue eyes flattered by blonde lashes, facial scars here and there that only made him look more ruggedly handsome. You could feel your face heat up as you stared, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Something on my face?” He smirked while raising his cocoa to his lips, eating up your reaction. He was hoping that you would react this way. He wanted to have your heart pounding for him.

Realizing that you were being teased, you giggled. The blush on your face was getting redder by the second. Waiting until he was done with his sip, you responded by wiping the whipped cream off his face with your thumb. You kissed it off your thumb when you pulled back, still somehow being able to be relatively smooth while also being a gooey mess inside. “Just a little whipped cream~”

Simon’s ears turned red from your actions. His heart almost burst out of his chest. Not being able to hold it in anymore, he set both of your mugs down on the coffee table. Once those were placed down, he cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss.

Your eyes went wide for a moment. You didn’t expect him to suddenly kiss you like this. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. Fireworks erupted through you. Before you knew it, you were leaning back into the kiss, tasting the sweet chocolate and cream off his lips.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him while your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. You wanted to touch him like this for so long. Ever since you first shared drinks together you wanted to touch him. As soon as he licked your leftover whipped cream off his thumb you wanted to wrap your arms around him for a kiss.

The kiss became deeper as it went on, small moans escaping from you that was real music to Simon’s ears. You tasted so sweet to him. So soft to the touch under his hands. More than anything, he wanted to taste you further. Cave into his craving for you.

When you pulled apart to catch your breaths, Simon saw how brightly your eyes shined. How cutely you smiled at him. He wanted to make you his so badly. “Y/n, I want you to be mine. I want you to belong only to me. Will you be my love?”

You blinked, hardly believing that those words came out of his mouth. It was impossible to fight back the smile that formed on your face. You wanted to dance with joy. For now, you sprung up and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. Your pretty scent, your lovely laughter, and your velvety softness blessed his senses as he held you close right back.

“Absolutely, Simon! I would love to be yours~!” You accepted, hardly being able to contain yourself as your lips crashed against his right after.

You could feel him smile against you, equally as happy that you accepted. You resumed making out, each kiss full of love as feelings were mutual. Large hands felt up your curves, causing you to moan into the passionate kisses. Not being able to help himself, he swiped his tongue against your lips, urging you to open your mouth for him. As soon as you did, his tongue slipped through to overtake you. His warm, soft tongue wrestled against yours, aiming to taste just how sugary sweet you were.

As he deepened the kiss, your fingers ran through his blond locks, the silky strands feeling nice against your touch. A low, guttural moan came from Simon as your own touch caused him to tremble. The effect you had on him was out of this world.

Slowly, he lifted you up to have you sit in his lap. He began to lose control as your soft chest pressed against his. You could feel his firm chest as he breathed heavily, getting lost in the kisses you shared. Your own breath was getting hot and heavy. Underneath you, you could start to feel a subtle rise of his pants as an erection began to grow.

When you shifted in his lap, your hips grinding into his by accident, he gave a sharp groan. His hands landed firmly on your hips to stop moving, a fluttering feeling inside you coming to life as he handled you.

Simon pulled away from the kiss, feeling like he was embarrassing himself by getting so sexual with you. You had just agreed to become his girlfriend! Did he really have no self control when it came to you? “We should stop. I don’t want to rush things if you aren’t ready.”

“Who says I’m not ready?” You genuinely asked, a curious tilt of your head making you look absolutely adorable in his eyes. His erection twitched, only growing bigger the longer you sat in his lap with that kissable face of yours.

“Seriously, sweetheart, I’m trying to be a pretty decent boyfriend right now.” Simon warned, his playfully narrowing eyes sending your heart into overdrive. The new nickname had you grinning as well.

“What if I told you that I didn’t mind taking things further? It’s been lonely recovering here all by myself. My usual efforts to ease the tension haven’t been working so great.” You explained delicately. While you were open to talking about how you felt, you were still a little shy hearing the words out loud.

Simon took your words seriously. It was hard to say no to you. He wanted to give you the world. Such a sweet thing like you deserved all of the love in the world if you wanted it.

Not being able to refuse your advance, he began to gently kiss your neck. The sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin already had you trembling. Sweet kisses trailed down to your exposed collarbone, Simon excited to go further down on you. “At any point where you want to stop, tell me. We’ll stop immediately.”

“Don’t stop, Simon.” You sighed as his kisses became firmer. Parted lips suckled on your skin, leaving marks on your skin. He wanted to cover you with them to let everyone know that you were his.

The tent in his pants got larger and firmer, throbbing every so often against your crotch as you grinded into him. You could feel your panties become damp with your arousal, the feeling of his erection pressing against your needy folds making you excited. Wanting things to progress further, you pulled off your blouse to reveal your lacy bra.

Simon wasn’t much into lingerie. He always had the mindset that lingerie would end up on the floor anyways, so what did it matter. However, seeing your daily, cute lace bra on you like a delicate candy wrapper hiding a sweet treat had him reeling. Christ, he wanted to completely unwrap you and indulge.

The way your new boyfriend looked at you in just your lacy bra alone filled you with fuzz. The way his eyes ran all over you, taking in your figure that was so close to his, made you shiver. You wanted to be eaten by him just as much as he did. If not even more.

Passionate kisses resumed, tongues tangling together as hands roamed each other’s bodies. Slipping your hands under his shirt, you felt how hot he was running. Muscles flexed under your touch. Moans entered your mouth. Simon’s skin felt like heaven, even with the scars from hell that he had all over him.

“Mmn, you taste so sweet, sweetheart.” He praised you, his cock now fully erect within his pants. Wanting more, you helped take off this shirt. You almost began to drool as soon as you got to see his bare chest. Broad and strong.

You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, your breasts free to rub against the chest that you were aching for as soon as you were ready. For a moment, you got up too and removed your pants along with your panties. Simon’s brain short circuited for a second as you stood in front of him almost unapologetically nude.

There was a bit of blush still on your cheeks as you hoped that Simon liked what he saw. Even the parts that you felt self-conscious about and the new scars that you got from the last mission. However, to Simon, you were the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The best thing he has ever seen.

He was eager to touch your soft skin, run his hands over your silky folds, and rake his fingers through your luscious hair. More than anything, he wanted to make you feel good. Especially if you have been sexually frustrated during your recovery.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. May I touch you?” Simon complimented, pulling you back onto his lap, making sure that you were situated comfortably.

You knew what he meant when he asked. Your senses tingled and pussy clenched when he asked so nicely. As much as you wanted him to touch you, another part was a bit bashful. You were already so wet for him that you didn’t want to scare him off. Nonetheless, you couldn’t resist the offer.

After you nodded, Simon turned you around in his lap, your back against his solid chest like you always belonged there. Large, firm hands began to massage your breasts, body already shuttering from the touch. You sighed in pleasure as he handled your tits with just the right amount of grip, squeezing in all the right places. Each touch was deliberate. Simon wanted to know every sweet spot you had. Every place that made you tremble and moan. When he began pinching your precious nipples, you flinched suddenly.

Simon gave a soft chuckle, kissing the side of your head. “Sensitive here, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yeah. . .” You blushed, figuring that being honest for him was going to be the best for the both of you at the moment.

“Good girl.” He praised, his accented, husky voice going straight into your ear. With one hand, he felt up your stomach and down your hips. He kept going until he was feeling up the inside of your thighs. Some pressure on your skin motioned for you to spread your legs farther for him.

Like his good, sweet girl, you obeyed. The open air hitting your slick slit made you whimper. Simon’s fingers traced up the skin of your thigh until he was just grazing your weeping cunt. Fluid coated his fingers like a smooth sugar glaze. “Look at you, so wet for me.”

Your breath became heavier and heavier as your heart raced faster. He was teasing you, gently spreading your mess all over your fluttering folds. When he did apply more pressure, thick fingers exploring your external crevices, you let out a cute moan. One that Simon wanted on a record.

In circular, powerful strokes, Simon rubbed your swollen clit. While it soothed the ache for his physical touch, it began to drive you wild for more. Earthquakes of pleasure shook you to your core. You may have bucked out of Simon’s lap if it wasn’t for his other arm and hand holding you down across your torso.

Pinching your clit softly between his fingers, he did the same with your nipple. You cried out deliciously, Simon smiling at every reaction that you gave him. His own arousal throbbed and ached, hitting the back of you with mutual need for more. Yet, he could hold it back if it meant getting you off first.

However, you knew that he was holding back for you. Not only did you feel it in his cock, but in his heart as his chest thumped against your back with each beat. It made you want him even more. More than just his kisses and fingers.

“I-Inside. . .” You begged, the words falling off your tongue as you became breathless. It wasn’t enough for him to play with just your clit anymore. You needed something inside. Something that will hit you deep in all the right places.

His fingers began to toy with your entrance, more of your honey leaking out. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not yet. I need to loosen you up first before I can give you more. Be a good girl for me and stay patient, yeah?”

Before you could respond, his fingers plunged into you with ease. You gasped and moaned, tightening around him as he began to slowly rub your insides as deep as he could go. Kisses landed on your cheek and neck, praises for your patience spilling out as he continued to pump his fingers. Your head began to feel fuzzy along with every single blood cell that flowed through your body.

You were making a complete mess out of his hand, your slippery slick traveling up into his palm as it pressed against your still throbbing clit. The other hand still played with your tits, rubbing your nipples in time with how his palm rubbed up your clit.

Your toes curled as his fingers did, hitting that delicate spot inside you that made you see stars. Moans turned into cries as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. Simon’s cock began to leak pre-cum as he felt you squirm and squeeze around his fingers. You looked so perfect like this. Close to orgasm, mouth opening to release each moan.

As you clenched down, Simon quickly turned your face towards him, lips pressing against yours to eat up your orgasmic cries. Suddenly, his tongue slipped into your mouth just as he pumped faster into you. With the firmer, quicker movements, he was rubbing against your clit at an overwhelming rate. Pinching your nipple for the final time sealed the deal as he plunged you into your climax.

He held you down tight against his warm body, eating up moan after moan as you shuttered hard. You doused his fingers and tightened up so much that you were sucking him in. Even as you came all over his hand, Simon still rubbed your walls, not wanting you to completely recover from your orgasm.

When he broke the kiss, you gasped for air. Your hands that gripped the couch cushion below you felt numb. Still, you raised them, grasping Simon’s arms to get him to give you a second.

And just like that, he stopped. He didn’t want to push you too far after all. If you needed a moment to catch your breath, he would gladly give it to you.

“S-Simon. . .” You weakly called out, going limp against his chest. As wiped as you were, you didn’t want to just end it there. There was still a strong desire to feel his cock inside you. It was something you didn’t mind pushing for now if you needed to.

However, that dazed, yet needy look of yours said everything to Simon. Carefully, he laid you down onto the couch. As you settled in comfortably, he removed the rest of his clothes. His cock sprang to life, still leaking pre-cum. He didn’t have any condoms on him and he doubted you did too, but he trusted himself not to go too far.

You trusted him too, arms raising up towards him, inviting him into your embrace. Finally, he was going to make love to you.

Positioning himself first, his erection pressed against your entrance, giving him chills from how hot you were already. Once he was in position, he slowly lowered himself over you, arms on each side of your head.

Holding onto him tight, you braced yourself for his intrusion, your pussy stretching to accommodate his large size. Your nails dug into his back, your breath hitching as he took his time pushing himself deeper into you. Just him going in made all your nerves go haywire. When he was finally all in, he sighed in relief. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, trying to hold back whimpers. “I’m okay. You just. . . It feels good. . .”

Love flashed in Simon’s blue eyes, ecstatic that he wasn’t causing you pain. Not wanting to jinx it, he moved at a tender pace. Passionate kisses were peppered over your soft lips as he began to thrust, causing you to moan. The way his cock massaged the deepest parts of you had your body feel like it was on fire.

“Fuck! Don’t clench down like that all of a sudden. You’re already tight, y/n.” Simon hissed, his expression wincing from the pleasure of your cunt tightening around him more than before.

Just him saying your name had to tighten up again, making Simon give a low groan. Afterwards, he smirked, sending your heart aflame. “You like it when I use your real name, y/n?”

Again, you clenched without meaning to, your nectar dripping out and down your filled cunt. “Y-Yeah. . .”

“Good girl. You know, I like it when you use my name too.” He hinted, his pace picked up so he could hear his name come out of you.

“S-Simon!” You gasped at his new speed, feeling every single inch of him reach deep inside until he bottomed out before thrusting outwards. Simon couldn’t believe how wet, hot, and tight you were. It was like a dream come true seeing you shake with ecstasy, cry out his name, and hold him for more. The way you dug your pretty little fingernails into his muscular back made him shiver.

He buried his face into your neck and kissed your skin, making sure that you would get all the pleasure you deserved. Your moans got louder as his movements became more passionate. Feverish. You made a mess on your couch, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how good it felt for Simon to make love to you. How good it felt to feel all of him inside you. As tight as you were around him, it felt like you were made for each other.

Screaming his name, your hand went up to his hair, gripping onto blonde locks as you got close to an orgasm again. Simon could feel it too with the way you sucked him in. His cock throbbed at the prospect of you cumming all over him. He wanted to be able to cum with you so bad, but he wouldn’t do that to you. Not without your consent or being ready for that next step. For now, he was just loving how perfect your pussy was for him.

Sweet words of praise and encouragement flooded your ears, pushing you closer to cumming. Simon thrusted harder and deeper, yet still kept his flawless pace to not completely break your flow. “That’s it, sweetheart. Give it all to me.”

When you felt his tongue glide against your neck, you nearly cried out his name for the final time. Your legs around Simon kept him close, allowing him to feel just how much you could clench around him. Douse him in your sweet honey. He didn’t mind how hard your nails were digging into his back or how firm your grip on his hair was. Actually, it felt heavenly as he continued to thrust into you for his own pleasure.

Your quivers became more violent as Simon kept pumping through your orgasm, more and more of your nectar making a mess on both of you. You bit your lip as you tried to regain control, but it didn’t matter. Whimpers, whines, and moans just wouldn’t stop flowing out of you. Each cry was sending Simon to his own climax. Wanting to hear even more, he gave in to going faster.

Without knowing it, Simon made you cum once again. Since he didn’t stop while you were orgasming the first time, your senses were overloaded with indulgence. Your brain went and vision turned into fuzz again as you came harder the second time.

Simon growled as you soaked him once more, feeling your pussy try to milk him for everything he’s got. His own vision was seeing stars as the pressure began to build for him. With one last shred of reasoning left, he pulled out of you and stroked out the rest of his orgasm with his hand. His body strained to keep him upright as he jerked off over you. Hot, white ropes of cum showered your belly as Simon worked himself.

Finally, he slowed to a stop, breath heavy and brain catching up to reality. When he saw the mess he left on you, he captured the moment in his mind like a picture. When you came as well, you looked up at him with the most adoring look in your eyes.

Taking a tissue from the box on your coffee table, he wiped you clean. Then, he took one of the blankets you draped over the top of the couch onto the both of you, Simon spooning you close as the both of you regained some energy back.

You nuzzled his hand that was draped over you. “Stay over tonight?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you wish.” He promised, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek.

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spoiledblogif · 2 months

Text

This is the development blog for the interactive fiction called "The Second Sight", which you can find on itch.io at the link above!

This is my first IF project, although I've been writing original stories and fanfiction for years.

I've included the story description and character profiles from the itch page below the cut.

This blog will be a combination of development info, images and music that I associate with the story, and other musings.

Fair warning, there might be spoilers from the latest chapters here, so I recommend catching up before reading too far.

Asks and submissions are always open.

You’re an urban legend in a county full of them. When you were thirteen, you were found passed out in the road by one of the local cops. No missing persons report. No fingerprints on file. No memories. Just a name.

Oh, and some bizarre psychic powers. You're content with simplicity. You like your isolated cabin and helping Carter track down missing persons. You know that in theory there are more people like you out there, but you've never wanted to look behind the curtain to find out.

However, with the disappearance of a local teen named Casey Powell and a recent attempt on your foster father's life, your serene, isolated life comes abruptly to its end and a new chapter begins.

✤✤✤

The Second Sight is an urban fantasy story, where you step into the role of a psychic whose strange powers have always separated them from others. Those same powers will drag you down the rabbit hole and into a world that is both the familiar and foreign to everything you know. A world filled with magic, witches, fae, demons, and the unknown.

You can immerse yourself in the story by customizing your protagonist's general appearance, choosing how they interact with others, and whether you lean on logic or intuition to problem solve. There are three love interests planned (more may be added depending on player reception and feedback), the genders of which will be selected by the player upon meeting them.

Characters

Jacob Carter

Age: Late forties

Race: Human. Definitely.

Gender: Male

Temperament: Carter radiates grizzled, old bastard energy and despite being the least paternal person in the world, he is your adoptive father. While harsh and aloof on the surface, he is also fiercely protective of you and has bent over backwards to give a decent life to a kid that isn't even his. He doesn't talk about his life before coming to Herman County and you haven't asked him, though that might change soon enough...

✤✤✤

Zander/Zora

Age: Late twenties.

Race: Human.

Appearance: Umber brown skin, black locs, grey eyes

Temperament: Gentle and resolute, Z isn't what you imagine when you think of an agent of the mysterious Magic and Anomalies Bureau. Kind, soft-spoken, and exceedingly polite, Z is Carter's former apprentice and something about them puts the old man on edge.

✤✤✤ Renard/Rowan

Age: Appears to be in their late twenties or early thirties

Race: Human. Maybe.

Appearance: Tall and slender, white-blonde hair, and gold eyes.

Temperament: Playful and flirtatious, talking to R always feels like a game of cat and mouse and you can never be sure which role is yours. Part sad clown, part trickster, and always maddening to work with, the only things you can be certain of with R is that they probably know what they're doing. Everything else is up in the air.

✤✤✤

Unknown aka "The Kestrel"

Age: ???

Race: Definitely not human.

Appearance: Tall, beautiful, elegant, with black hair and black eyes.

Temperament: The Kestrel is a complete unknown. It's impossible to say whether they are a lethal ally or deadly enemy, but either way they are a powerful dreamwalker. You don't know how long they've been watching you, but you're willing to bet that it's been longer than you're comfortable with.

#pinned post #blog intro #interactive fiction #the second sight

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cuubism · 1 year

Text

for @magnusbae, as usual 😂

“If you relent now, you may be offered a small degree of mercy,” Dream told his captors from where he was sitting cross-legged in the summoning circle. Irritating, to have found himself summoned again. He was going to have to devise better protections against this sort of thing. At least he had his clothes this time, that was a small comfort.

A greater comfort was the certain knowledge that someone was coming for him. Rare, that feeling, and brilliantly warm in its newness.

One of the men sneered down at him. “You aren’t in a position to be talking about mercy, Dream of the Endless.”

His name spoken in such a way sent a prickle up Dream’s spine. The disrespect.

“I speak not of myself,” he said, then fell silent, watching a look of unease flash across his captor’s face, the worried expression he sent to his compatriot. The realization, there, that he meant someone was coming after him, and the fear of what kind of being might be loyal to one such as him.

If only they knew.

“Although,” he continued, “there are a great many fates worse than death in this world. Perhaps death itself will be your mercy.”

They would not enjoy what Dream would do with them when he got out.

They ought to know what they were messing with. They had summoned him as Nightmare, used a spell that called to the darker elements of his nature. But then, human folly knew no bounds.

The men had not contained Dream very well, either. Tonight, when they slept, he should be able to slip into their dreams and compel one of them to break the circle. That was if someone else did not get there first.

Dream hoped someone else got there first.

He felt it was only fair to get a little show in return for his trouble.

The men looked truly unnerved now, but Dream offered no more explanation. Let them stew in what they had wrought. It was satisfying, incredibly satisfying, to watch them shake in it.

Dream did not have to wait long for his reckoning.

The door flew open, banging into the wall. Hob stood in the doorway, haloed by the hallway light, one hand grasping a crowbar that Dream knew he usually kept in his car. Dream’s summoners were armed with guns, but Dream was not concerned, and not only because Hob could not die.

“Hello, Hob,” he intoned. The other men looked between the two of them, shocked into inaction.

“Hi, love,” said Hob. His tone was light but the look in his eyes was not. “You alright?”

“I feel deprived of my day off,” Dream complained. “We had plans.”

“Hmm. That we did.”

One of his captors, the one who had scorned his offer of mercy, finally regained his senses enough to raise his weapon. Dream propped his head in his hands to watch.

Some days, Dream wished he could have seen Hob on a proper battlefield, sword in hand, ruthless, brutal efficiency on full display. There was no elegance to the way Hob fought, only experience, instinct, and an utter lack of pretension characteristic of one who had used those skills for illicit gain and survival rather than showmanship. Dream loved every second of it, especially when it was brought to bear for him.

Hob cracked the man across the hand, knocking his gun aside, then smashed him overhand with the crowbar. Dream heard the man’s skull audibly split.

Hob spun for the other, who was scrambling for his gun. Dream watched with disgust. Such amateurs dared to summon him? They knew not what they meddled with.

Hob backhanded the man across the cheek before he could even properly grip his gun, and the man shrieked, falling backwards. Hob turned to Dream. “You wanna…?” He waved a hand as if to indicate plunge him into endless torment.

Dream shook his head. Such sorry excuses for men did not deserve his effort.

Hob shrugged and smashed the man over the head with the crowbar again, not quite killing him but pushing him very close to his sister’s embrace.

Footsteps down the hall, and then two more men burst into the room. One held a cattle prod instead of a gun; Dream could only assume it had been meant for him, and they simply had not found cause to use it yet. Hob’s gaze zeroed in on it, and something dark sharpened in his eyes.

“You’ll regret that, but you won’t have long to do it,” he said, dropping his crowbar as he ducked the man’s lunging blow with the cattle prod to grab him around the back of the neck and knee him in the gut. The man doubled over, gasping, hand spasming as he dropped his weapon. Hob twisted him into a headlock, his arm an iron bar across the man’s throat.

“Next time you mess with beings beyond your understanding,” he growled, “consider that they might have someone waiting at home for them.”

Dream’s breath caught. He watched as the air seeped out of his captor under Hob’s grip until he slumped to the floor. This was all far more satisfying – and attractive – than he’d even anticipated.

He was so caught up in the vicious heroics of it all that he didn’t realize the final co-conspirator had pointed his gun at him until Hob said, very low and very dark, “I wouldn’t.”

Dream looked up at the last man standing, either the smartest or dumbest of the group based on his current antics, depending on which way one looked at it. His hand was shaking where it was pointing the gun at Dream’s chest.

“I’ll kill him!” his captor insisted, voice squeaking up an octave in fear. Was Hob frightening? Dream supposed he was, from that angle. The thought thrilled something in him.

“I wouldn’t,” Hob repeated, the man’s fate should he do so very clear in his voice. A bullet would not kill Dream, of course, but bound as he still was by the summoning circle, it would probably hurt. Besides, it would upset Hob, and that was not acceptable.

The man looked wildly between Dream and Hob as if trying to decide who would be less likely to kill him. At this point, he would probably be better off jumping into the summoning circle with Dream and being consumed by his nightmares. The look on Hob’s face was not charitable.

True to Dream’s supposition, the man swung back around to point his gun at Hob, but hesitated half a second before firing. Hob moved in the space of that hesitation, moved like shadow in a way Dream’s nightmares themselves could learn from, grabbed the man’s arm and forced it up and back so the moment his finger pressed down on the trigger the bullet went right between his eyes.

Blood splattered. The body dropped. Dream didn’t bother to watch; instead, he was watching Hob. The sweat just prickling his brow, the way his chest rose and fell with exertion. The utter steadiness of his hands.

Hob strode over to the circle, brushing through it with his foot, then stepped in to crouch beside Dream. He took Dream’s face between his hands, looking him over with concern. “Are you alright, my love?”

“Quite.” Dream’s lips tipped up in a smile; he leaned into Hob’s hands. “I enjoyed your heroics.”

“Oh?” Hob’s concern fell away, replaced by humor. “Did you?”

“Mm. You were gallant and ruthless.”

“Didn’t think those could go together,” Hob said.

“And full of contradictions,” Dream added, and Hob laughed. Dream rested his hands on Hob’s sides, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. “I believe you may be featuring in some nightmares now. For the ones who are remaining, that is.”

Hob hummed, evidently not upset about it. “Should see yourself.” He traced under Dream’s eye.

Dream had thus far neglected to let his eyes slip back to their more human appearance after the summoning. When he smiled, his teeth felt a bit sharper than usual. “They summoned Nightmare, and Nightmare is what they received.”

Hob kissed his forehead. “Summoned,” he repeated, a banked flame in the word. “Oh, I hope you weren’t scared.”

“They trapped me poorly, I would have escaped as soon as night fell. But failing that…” Dream pressed Hob’s hand to his cheek. “I knew that you would come for me.”

Hob pulled away again to look at him, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. There was something in that look, too, beyond fondness. Like he was proud of Dream, almost. “Always.”

He helped Dream to his feet. Dream didn’t need the help, but Hob’s touch was pleasant. He leaned into Hob’s side as Hob rested a hand low on his back.

“You know…” he mused, “it can be quite tiring for one to be summoned.”

Hob looked at him sidelong. “Are you trying to get me to carry you?”

“…If it is on offer.”

Hob sighed heavily. “Suppose it wouldn’t be a proper storybook rescue mission otherwise.”

“Precisely,” Dream agreed.

“You’re a menace,” Hob declared, but obligingly bent and scooped Dream up in his arms. His body was pleasantly warm after the exertion of the fight, and solid as always.

Dream tipped his head against his shoulder, hiding a smile. “Gallant,” he murmured.

They were nearly to the door when there was a fluttering of wings, and Death was standing in the center of the room. She looked from Dream in Hob’s arms, to the bodies scattered on the floor, and back again, an aggrieved expression on her face. “Please tell me this wasn’t elaborate roleplay.”

“It is my understanding that role play should not come with a body count,” Dream told her solemnly, and she shook her head.

“Whatever it is, I’ll leave you to it.” She tipped her head at the bodies. “I have work to do.”

“Sorry,” said Hob, not sounding very sorry.

Death sighed and waved them away, crouching beside one of the collapsed men. She whistled. “You did a number on him.”

“Nobody gets to try to capture Dream anymore,” Hob said, indignant, arm tightening around Dream’s shoulders.

“Quite right,” said Death. She looked up at them again with a small smile. “Take care of him, Hob.”

Dream should have felt more offended by this. But it was hard to care about much when Hob was carrying him so delicately.

“Always will,” said Hob, his tone soft but certain, and Dream pressed his face into his chest.

“You know,” Hob murmured as they left the building and stepped out into the cool evening air, “it could be elaborate roleplay.”

Dream’s lips tipped up in a smile. He leaned back against Hob’s arm to look up at him. “In the Dreaming all things are possible. No permanent bloodshed required.”

Hob smiled down at him, sharp and fond at once. “My thoughts exactly, darling.”

#just utter silliness in this one #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #laughing to myself about how i didn't describe the setting AT ALL like where are they? oh just. a room #who knows #😂#FUCK NOT ME REALIZING BELATEDLY THAT THEY CALL HIM DREAM BUT THEY SUMMONED HIM AS NIGHTMARE #it's fine it's fine it's cool it's fine inconsistencies abound it's fine

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bloody-peach · 17 days

Text

Snake Eyes (Helluva Boss: Striker x F!Reader smut fic)

(gif edit by me)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Now Playing: E.V.O.L. by Marina and the Diamonds, FutureSex / LoveSounds by Justin Timberlake [headphones recommended]

Goodie Bag: flirting, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, masturbation (f), cursing, dirty talk, striptease, vaginal fingering, creampie [let me know if I missed anything].

A/N: Who doesn't wanna fuck Striker? Like, come on. When he pinned Blitzø to the wall in his debut episode, I wanted to be in Blitzø's place so bad. So I decided to make a fic. It's pretty short, but it's still good, trust me. Also, im using the Norman Reedus voiced Striker for this even though this takes place after Season 2, because I prefer Norman's voice. Enjoy!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @pinkhimecat @moths-and-mantids @neonvehk @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered and all Striker simps!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Your life wasn’t the best at the moment. Your bitter ex put a bounty on your head for no reason, and this forced you to be on the run. You were currently in the Wrath ring, trying to outrun this bounty hunter that’s been on your ass for a while. It wasn’t fair that he was riding on a horse, but you were able to keep a good distance from him. Unfortunately, you didn’t know that he had a lasso on him. You gagged when the lasso wrapped around your neck tight, pulling you back and knocking you onto your ass. You tried to pull the rope off of you, but it was on tight. During your struggle, he walked up to you, looking down with a smirk on his face. His tail flicked in a flourish, making the same sound as a rattlesnake’s tail. “Gotta admit, you can run pretty fast. But not fast enough.” a rough male voice said. “I haven’t lost a catch in my entire life, and I ain’t starting today.” He pulled the lasso up and got you on your knees. You had a good look at him and recognized him immediately. This was Striker, the ruthless bounty hunter who hunted down and almost killed Prince Stolas. You were aware of his track record of bounty hunting, and you knew you were just another paycheck. ‘Fuck, he’s hot,’ you thought to yourself.

He eyed you up and down and said, “Hey, you’re a cute one. Not a bad body on you, either. Maybe I’ll have some fun with ya before I turn ya in.” You weren’t sure how, but this man just flipped your switch and you decided to flirt with him. When he loosened the lasso so you could speak, you smirked and looked at him with flirtatious eyes, saying, “Oh? Have I caught the eye of the famous bounty hunter, Striker?” Striker’s eyes narrowed, momentarily taken aback by your smirk. His grin remained plastered on his face, however, as he leaned in further, his breath brushing your cheek. “Famous, eh?” He repeated, drawing out the word. “Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t,” he chuckled softly, running a hand through his snowy hair. “But there ain’t no doubt that I’m the best around these parts.” He paused, looking you up and down with a predatory gleam in his golden eyes. “And now that I got ya, well...you got a few options.”

“Option one, sweetheart,” He began, gesturing to the lasso around your neck. “We could keep things simple and quick. I turn you in, you’re executed, and I pocket that hefty bounty on your cute little head. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right?” He winked, a mischievous smile tugging on his lips. “Or option two, we have ourselves a bit of fun, see how much you enjoy it..or how much I do. And then I decide whether you’re worth keeping around or not. Sound good?” You liked where this was going, so you smile and say, “Personally, I like option two better, wouldn’t you agree? Maybe if we hit it off, we can fake my death and split the bounty. I got quite a bounty on me, so if we split it, we’d be richer than even those Goetias.” Striker’s eyes widened as he smiled, clearly surprised at your words. “Ya reckon? Now there’s an idea,” he said, running a finger along your jawline. “Well, alright. Let’s give ol’ option two a go, see how it feels. But understand something, sweetheart, if I feel like you’re lyin’, tryin’ to trick me, I ain’t above changin’ my mind and sendin’ you straight to yer maker.” As he helped you stand up, Striker adjusted his hat and walked closer to you, looming over you. “Now, don’t think you can run off, darlin. That ain’t an option.” He smirked, his voice low and seductive. “I’m in control here, always. Otherwise, we ain’t got no game here.” You were getting turned on so much the more this went, so you smiled and said, “Well, that’s good, because it wouldn’t be any fun if I was the one in control.” A sinister grin spread across Striker’s face, his eyes flickering with excitement. “That’s more like it,” he growled, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto his horse. Once he got on, he made you wrap your arms around his waist, saying, “Hold on tight now.” With that, you two were off.

It was sunset when he stopped at a hotel and got you two a room. Once he brought you in the room, he pinned you to a wall and gazed down your body, lingering on your chest, before locking back on your eyes. “I bet you taste real sweet, don’t cha?” He murmured, his finger tracing a slow circle on your throat. “Between those legs of yours, you prolly taste like heaven.” He grabbed you and pulled you close to him, his body pressing against yours, the hard lines of muscle evident beneath his clothes. You blushed, but felt so turned on as you said, “Well..only one way to find out.” Striker grinned, his grip tightening on your waist as he pressed his groin against yours. “Oh, I’m gonna,” he growled, his hand sliding down your body and undoing your pants. “Real soon, darlin’. Real soon.” He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispered, “But first, I wanna watch you squirm, feel your body shake with pleasure before I taste every inch of ya.” He broke away, stepping back and fixing his coat. “Strip for me,” He said, his voice deep and commanding. “Slow and sexy, darlin’. Don’t forget, I’m in control here.” He lit a fresh cigar, puffing on it as he watched you undress, his eyes never leaving your body.

You nodded and you started to strip nice and slowly, giving him a bit of a show with a little strip tease. Striker’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as he took in the sight before him. Your slow, erotic dance had rendered him speechless, but not for long. He swallowed hard, his fingers drumming on his belt. Soon, you were completely nude, your arousal evident as he noticed your juices dripping down your thigh. “Damn, girl,” He muttered, his voice shaky. “Look at ya, drippin’ an’ ready for me.” He slowly approached, putting his cigar out and throwing it out as he reached for you. He wrapped an arm around you, his hand groping your ass as his other hand brushed against your wet flesh, a low chuckle escaping him. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he praised, his hand running along the curve of your hips. You let out a series of moans as he started to rub your pussy, his fingers skillfully playing with your folds and clit. Striker couldn’t help but chuckle as he felt how wet and responsive your pussy was beneath his fingers. “Just wait til I’m inside of ya,” he breathed into your ear, his words coming out heavy. “Ain’t nothin’ like havin’ you clench around me, feeling every throb and twitch.” He slid one finger inside you, feeling your walls contract around him. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He pushed in another finger, his cock straining painfully within his pants. “I’m gon’ fuck you so hard, baby. Make you scream my name when I reach that sweet spot.” His hand started moving faster, thrusting in and out of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Feel that, darlin’? Imagine it bein’ me -- my cock poundin’ into ya, fillin’ you up.” Just the thought of his cock stretching your pussy out made you even wetter and made you moan more as he continued fingering you. “Fuck, baby,” Striker swore, his arousal threatening to burst through his jeans. “You ain’t no liar, are ya?” He chuckled darkly. “Your pussy’s so damn greedy for me, already wanting more.” He took his fingers out, watching as they glistened with your essence. You watched as he licked his fingers clean, a sinister look in his eyes when he looked at you, saying, “I was right. Your pussy do taste like heaven.” He cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, darlin’, do ya wanna feel me inside of you? Then get on your knees and beg for it.” He demanded, his voice thick with lust. “If I’m gonna take ya, you best beg for it properly.”

You nodded and got on your knees, looking up at him and putting on your best puppy-dog eyes as you said, “Please, Daddy..I want your hard cock..give it to me..I need it so badly..please fuck me...I’ll do anything you want..” Striker’s eyes darkened with hunger, his heart pounding in his chest. “That’s my girl,” he praised, reaching for his belt buckle. Unbuckling it, he let his jeans drop, revealing his thick erection standing tall and proud. He smirked, holding his cock and aiming it at your mouth. “Anything I want, huh?” He mused, running a hand through his hair. “Well, since ya asked so nicely, I’ll start easy. Take my cock in yer mouth and suck it like a good girl,” he commanded, his eyes never leaving your face. “Prove how much ya want it.”

You nodded and gently grabbed his cock, stroking it and licking up the shaft. You then kissed the tip of his cock and slid his cock into your mouth, sucking on it as you moaned. Striker hissed, his hand fisting in your hair as you took him into your mouth. “Goddamn, that’s good,” he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily. “You got some skills with that tongue, that’s for sure.” He tugged your hair, guiding your movements. “Swallow me down, deep throat me,” he grunted, his pace picking up. “Make me feel that warm, wet throat around my dick.” His breathing grew ragged, his hips bucking hard. “Don’t stop, keep going. Show me how much ya need this cock.” You did as he said and took more of his cock in your mouth, feeling it go down your throat and slightly gagging until you were able to relax your throat, making things much easier. Soon, you were able to deepthroat him to the point of your lips touching his hilt. Striker’s eyes rolled back as he tilted his head back, his fingers digging into your scalp. “Fuck, yeah..” he moaned. “Take it all, darlin’, show me how much you love it.” His thrusts became more aggressive, his body trembling. “Keep goin’, make me lose myself in your mouth.” You sucked even more, making sure your tongue massaged his shaft. You reached towards your pussy and you started to touch yourself as you sucked him off, clearly turned on from the experience as your juices dripped onto the hardwood floor. Striker’s eyes narrowed, his breaths coming out harsh and uneven. “You’re gonna make me cum like this, aren’t ya?” He growled, his grip tightening on your hair. “I fucking love a woman who knows what she wants.” He pulled out, his cock glistening with saliva. “But I’m in control here, remember? So, enough of that,” He said hoarsely, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto the bed, soon pushing you down and hovering over you. “Time to get that pretty pussy stretched wide.”

He put his hands on your hips, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “Spread your legs wider for me, baby,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Cause I’mma ride ya so hard, mark my words..” You spread your legs wider, your pussy twitching with anticipation. Striker grinned, his eyes gleaming with danger. “Perfect,” he murmured, positioning himself between your legs. “Now, tell me if you want me to be gentle or rough.” He teased, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Your choice, darlin’.” His eyes bore into yours, waiting patiently for your decision. “Remember, you asked for this. Now choose wisely.” You smirked and wrapped your arms around his neck, saying, “That depends, sexy. How do you want it? You’re the one in charge here. I’m just here to take it like a good girl.” Striker’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Damn right you are, darlin’. I’m in control.” He growled, thrusting into you forcefully. “But don’t worry, I’ll give ya a taste of both.” He began with a steady rhythm, his hips grinding against yours. “Like that, huh?” He sighed, his voice tinted with satisfaction. “Worried you wouldn’t be able to handle me, but look at ya takin’ it like a champ.” As he pistoned in and out of you, his pace increased. You were tight, so fucking tight around him. You just lost it as his size stretched you out so good, moaning as he kept thrusting, “Ohhh fuck..yeah..!” Striker’s eyes heated up, his thrusting becoming even wilder. “You love it, eh?” He snarled, gripping your hips tightly. “Takes a real man to stretch ya out like this, don’t it?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear. “But I ain’t done with ya yet.” His grip tightened as he pulled out of you. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard now, got it?” Without waiting for an answer, he slammed into you again, his thrusts erratic and violent. “Like that? Wanna see how far you can take it?” He snarled, his pace unrelenting. “Show me how much you can take!”

Your pleasure had reached its peak, crying out in pure ecstasy, “Ahh..! Ohhh..S..Striker..! Yes..! Harder..! Deeper..!” Striker roared, his thrusts becoming even more savage. “Fuck yeah, that’s it,” he gritted out, his breathing labored. “Ya like that, huh?” He reached down, rubbing your clit roughly. “Don’t hold back, darlin’,” he ordered, his pace not slowing. “Let me hear you scream.” His cock slid in and out of you like lightning, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. “Goddamn, I’m gonna paint your walls with my cum,” he promised, his eyes blazing. “Can’t wait to hear ya scream my name.” “Y-Yes..! Please...fill me up...make me yours...ohh fuck..!” You moved your hips to match his thrusts, intensifying the pleasure for both of you. “Ohhh fuck, your cock feels so good, baby..!” Striker growled, feeling you meet his thrusts. “That’s it, darlin’,” he encouraged, his pace increasing. “Fuck, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” He grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You kissed him back, moaning in his mouth as your tongues did an erotic dance. Striker broke the kiss and looked you in the eye. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he demanded, his voice raw with desire. “Do ya want me to fill ya up?” His thrusts became more desperate, his hips slamming into yours with all his might. “Tell me what you need, baby girl.” “I..I need you to fill me...fuck me in all of my holes...fill me up full of your cum until I can’t take any more..use me..break me..!” you cried out. Striker’s eyes flashed, his entire being focused on satisfying your request. “Goddamn, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he snarled, his thrusts becoming even more brutal. It’s not too long until he came deep inside you, filling your pussy up to the brim. “Gah, fuck..” he groaned. He quickly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, wiping his cockhead on your ass before aligning it with your back door. “Ready for another round, darlin’?” He asked, his voice thick with lust.

With a swift motion, he plunged into your ass, making you gasp. “I’mma fill every hole ya got,” he promised, his thrusts frantic. “Feel every inch of my cock inside ya.” His cock slid in and out of you, fucking you mercilessly. “How’s that, huh?” He panted, his grip tightening on your hips. “Need me to go faster, slower?” You gripped tightly on the bedsheet, your teeth gnashing down on the fabric as you lost your mind even further, moaning as he fucked your ass so good, “Ohh yeah...more..fuck me more...don’t stop..” Striker smiled cruelly, his thrusts becoming even harder. “Atta girl,” he praised. “I ain’t gonna stop until you drain every bit of cum from my cock.” He slapped your ass, hearing you whimper. “Scream for me, Y/N,” he commanded, leaning down to bite your neck. “Let everyone know who you belong to.” “S..Striker...ahh...Striker...I..I belong to you..!!” Striker smirked, biting down on your neck to make sure a mark would be left behind, a sign of ownership. “That’s my girl.” His thrusts grew frenzied, his cock stretching your ass to its limit. “So goddamn tight,” he snarled, his pace ruthless. “I’mma make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” You soon could feel the knot in your belly starting to wind up and soon, you moan out, cumming hard. Finally, he came inside you again, his orgasm shaking his entire body. He kept thrusting into you, elongating both of your orgasms.

“There ya go, baby,” he chuckled, collapsing beside you. “I hope I filled you up good.” You crawled up to him and laid your head on his chest. “Oh, you did so much more than fill me up, baby...” you said, your voice slightly slurred. Striker chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “Glad to be of service, sweetheart,” he said, his breath still slightly ragged. “Guess ya liked it rough, huh?” He put his hand on top of your head and nuzzled you, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he whispered, running a hand through your hair. “Next time, I’m gonna be gentler.” He watched you snuggle into him, making him smirk. “Unless you beg for more, of course,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “But for now, let’s figure out how to pull the wool over that bastard’s eyes and how we’re gonna split that bounty.”

~~~♡♡♡~~~

#helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva boss fanfiction #striker x y/n #striker x reader #striker x you #helluva #helluva striker #helluva boss smut #helluva smut

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