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pseudowho · 5 months

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Men With Big Noses

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

You accidentally let on to Hiromi Higuruma that you find his big nose sexy-- so he shows you exactly what he can do with it.

Warnings: 18+ as always, Higuruma is nearly face-sat to death and would absolutely die a happy man.

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"Why have you poured me another glass of wine?"

"Why not? You've had a long week. I've had a long week. And I don't want to finish the bottle alone, so..." Hiromi pressed the glass into your hand, planting a deliberately sloppy kiss on your cheek as you laughed, slapping him away, "Drink up."

Feigning disgruntlement, you mumbled into your wine as you shot Hiromi a side-eye.

He loped, slim and wiry, to the windows, swirling his wine glass thoughtfully, one hand in his pocket as he stared out over the Tokyo skyline. Your relationship was new, only just into the early stages of physical intimacy, but you caught yourself looking him up and down over the rim of your wineglass.

It was his brain that had attracted you at first. Fiercely intelligent, Hiromi appeared to see straight through you, and adore you anyway. His passion certainly wasn't limited only to his career. He was dry and sharp, but conversely so mellow at points. He kept you guessing, but never about how he felt about you. You had never found a partner so unusually thrilling as him.

But you couldn't deny...there was a certain something about how he looked that made the gears deep in your belly whir, puzzled and magnetic in your attraction towards him. But you couldn't work out what that something was.

You approached him slowly, breathing in the heady fumes of your wine as you appraised him; his eyes, and the way they turned into pools of pitch black when he looked at you? No. His fine-boned hands, so articulate and clever, that you wondered what else they could be clever with? No, not that either. His body, lithe and slim but deceptively strong? You sighed, unable to puzzle it out. You were halfway through your third glass of wine now, feeling loose, warm, intimate--

"I can't work out what it is that you find attractive about me."

You jumped, your remaining wine sloshing as he turned to you, his sloped eyes sparkling with curiosity, inquisitive and dark. You gaped for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you swore he had read your thoughts, and said the first thing that came to your head--

"Your nose." Hiromi snorted into his wineglass, hand over his eyes now as he shook with mirth. His hand lowered, fingering his big, hooked nose, and he laughed again.

"Be serious," he chastised. Your inhibition had abandoned you, emboldened by the alcohol.

"No, I...I mean it. There's something sort of...sexy about it. Men with big noses."

"Oh?" He approached you slowly, hand still in his pocket, a slow, sloping walk, "All men with big noses? Is that a kink?" Oh, those eyes. Dark and glowing, like little coals in the dark, and looking at you like that, you felt heat rush through you, so scrutinised--

"Or-- or maybe-- just yours I think. A you-specific kink. I wonder what you could do with that nose, other than-- other than--" You flushed, downing the rest of your wine. He was close now, and your skin felt electric. Not breaking eye-contact as he stared into you, he slowly reached out to take your empty glass, draining his own now and placing them both on the table.

Pulling you in with one hand on the small of your back, and the other creeping up the side of your face, he leaned over you. Still teasing you, his big eyes hooded, he ghosted the tip of his nose over the side of your neck, tracing shapes against your pulse point.

You pressed one hand against his chest, the other into his hair as you shivered.

"--other than?" he prompted. He laughed again, rich and bold, "My nose," he scoffed, "Where would you like my nose?" You blushed, mortified, and tried to shove him away for teasing you, but he held on tight, rubbing his nose gently against yours now. He kissed you, leaning you backwards, deep and convicted in his hold on you.

Your head wasn't swooping just with the wine now. Plaiting your fingers behind his neck, you suddenly didn't feel embarrassed to tell him what you wanted. You pulled away from his kiss, and he leaned his forehead against yours, nose to nose, as he stared into your eyes, your gaze shy and averted.

"Between...between my legs, maybe." You regretted it the moment you said it, hands up to slap over your eyes, cupping your red-hot cheeks, and Hiromi still didn't let go of you, his nose and lips pressing soft, tipsy kisses to your decolletage. He whispered to you, only deepening your regret.

"You could sit on my nose, if you like. Undressed, obviously." You felt his hips pressed against you, and felt his cock against you, now half-hard and growing--

You nearly imploded, stammering, "Oh please, no man actually likes that. Face-sitting is just one of those stupid things you joke about. Men don't actually like giving women oral," you scoffed, cynical and embarrassed. Hiromi raised his eyebrows, releasing you now, looking mildly offended.

"Oh dear. Another sceptic. Were your other boyfriends that bad?" You swatted him with a cloth.

"Pretend I never said anything!" You shouted in from the kitchen, "Forget about it! I'm going for a shower. There's more wine on the side if you want it."

You honestly considered drowning yourself in the shower. You'd barely even got past heavy make-out sessions, and you'd just told him you wanted his nose between your legs, you could just die of shame--

Stepping out from the shower and into your bedroom, you squeaked to find Hiromi lying on his back on your bed, the top of his shirt unbuttoned, and as he saw you, he smiled loosely and rubbed one of your pillows over his face.

"What are...what are you doing?"

"Polishing your seat, of course."

You melted against the wall, mortified, gripping your towel in one hand and covering your eyes with the other. You heard slow footsteps creep up behind you, long-fingered hands pulling you against a hard torso, feeling Hiromi's nose rub behind your ear. Despite yourself, your eyes fluttered closed, wanting him.

"I think you'd like it," Hiromi insisted, voice low and convincing, "and I like it when you tell me what you want. It's...bold. Honest. Sexy." You moaned softly as he pressed into you from behind, his cock hard and insistent against your body, and he loosened the front of your towel to snake his clever fingers to your breast, fingers brushing it softly at first before cupping and giving an appreciative squeeze.

"So please sit on my nose. And the rest of my face." You bit your lip...and slowly nodded. You felt warm air huff out of Hiromi's nose behind your ear, "Good girl."

Spinning you round, Hiromi pulled you in for a deep kiss, the wine heavy on both of your tongues as he slipped his against yours, probing, curious. You accepted warmly, your hands tracing down to untuck his shirt from his trousers, your hand slipping flat against his abdomen and trail of dark, wiry hair, and Hiromi shivered, tongue trembling against yours.

He fell back onto the bed, pulling your legs up to straddle his lap, panting and kissing the sides of your throat as you unbuttoned his shirt, your fingers gliding over the taut muscles of his shoulders in appreciation. He nuzzled you, hooked nose rubbing over the shell of your ear, unintentionally bucking his cock up against your unclothed sex as your fingers grazed his nipples in their exploration of his torso.

"I can't wait...I want to taste you," he insisted, breathless, his eyes dipped and flinty as he fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him, but holding you upright by the hips. Suddenly shy, so aware of your body with those smouldering eyes looking up at you, Hiromi sensed your hesitation and grabbed your knees, scooting you up his body so you were straddling his upper chest.

With your legs parted, you felt his breath roll over your folds, now so wet with your arousal, and Hiromi stared up at you, seeming grave in his devoted assessment of your face as he traced his hands up your thighs, two fingers slipping idly between your legs to rub a long stroke from entrance to clit and back again. He sighed, thrilled to feel you plant a hand on his abdomen, grounding yourself as he started to rub smooth circles over your clit.

"You're perfect, and those other guys didn't deserve you," he insisted, slipping his fingers teasingly close to your entrance as you let out a breathy moan, and Hiromi stared at his fingers, scientific in his appreciation of how your arousal was glazed over them.

Raising his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, Hiromi stopped, considering. He placed his wet fingers over your towel instead, gripping your hips.

"No," he puzzled, "I want to taste you straight from the source." You squeaked as he dragged your knees and hips upwards again, your pussy now hovering directly over his face. Hiromi lifted his face, looking at you with a glint in his eyes, "Sit."

You hesitated, and Hiromi pressed his nose up, nuzzling it between your folds and pressing it firmly against your clit, holding your hips tightly as you jolted and gasped, never realising that nose could feel so good on your aching core. Thighs trembling, you lowered your weight until you sat directly on Hiromi's nose, mouth and chin.

Hiromi got to work like a starving man, groaning with desire as he nuzzled his nose and mouth between your puffy folds, his nose rubbing firmly over your clit as his tongue sank as far as it could into your hole, and you cried out, gripping his hair tightly with one fist, and grasping his hand on your hip with another.

As the firm tip of his nose rubbed insistently on your clit, making you burn with pleasure, you involuntarily ground your pussy down onto his face, and mewled when his shaky moan vibrated through you. Hiromi began to move your hips above him, encouraging you to hump his mouth and nose while his tongue alternated between dipping into you, and flicking against your clit as Hiromi sucked it into his mouth.

Your pleasure building, your cries and the hand grasping his hair becoming more and more urgent, Hiromi squeezed his rigid cock through his trousers, determined not to embarrass himself by cumming untouched while you humped his face. But as precum leaked through his trousers, wet on his thigh, Hiromi was drunk with the taste of you, sweet and natural, and he felt his cock throbbing as he neared his release.

Hiromi rocked your hips urgently against his face, his nose creating a constant alternating pressure on your clit, and you felt your belly tighten, pressing yourself down on his nose in a desperate need to cum, babbling his name in sweet praise.

With one last determined nuzzle against your clit, you shook, waves of pressure breaking through your whole lower body and Hiromi moaned, hips bucking against the air as he tasted and smelled you, overwhelmed by the authentic intimacy of the moment, feeling streams of cum soaking his boxers as he came completely untouched.

You moaned, short little mewls as you came down from your high. Gathering yourself, you shifted yourself down onto Hiromi's chest, looking down at him, blushing and concerned. You had never seen a man look so delighted with so much cum on his face. You were baffled, and of a mind to marry this man.

"Any man that actually likes women, sweetheart," Hiromi panted, dazed, "Would happily die like that."

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Love you Hiromi Higuruma, MWAH! 😌☕

#jjk #higuruma x reader #i love him #jjk higuruma #higuruma hiromi #higuruma #higuruma smut #higuruma angst #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 12 days

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Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the ask here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings:

The first time you ever saw Simon Riley perched atop his black motorcycle, in that moment some innate part of your brain was awakened and you were never the same. There was just something so incredibly erotic about the way those thick thighs straddled over the sides, the way his arms looked with their muscles bulging, straining his black short sleeved t-shirt wrapped around them as he leaned forward to reach the handlebars. Of course his helmet with the blacked out visor didn’t hurt either, not when paired with his sleeve of tattoos. He was a vision even more than usual and you were suddenly hooked.

Then he took you for a ride along the open highway where he could really show you the power his bike had and that solidified your need to be involved in his hobby. Adrenaline, that was and still is Simon’s favorite part of being on the open road, his bike vibrating underneath him as the wind rushed past his body, and now that you had that first taste of it all, it was yours too.

Whatever you needed to do to keep getting to look at him like that, to keep feeling that rush, you were more than willing to do it.

Whenever he was on leave you two found yourselves on his bike, roaming the city on long night rides just to feel the wind on your skin and the rush of speed under your bodies. That was until he made an off-handed joke one day about getting you your own bike so that you could drive alongside him and then suddenly you were expressing how much you actually had been thinking about it. Sharing his hobby with someone, especially you, was something he has always wanted. To think you could experience the same thrills had him rushing to take you bike shopping the very next day so he could start teaching you.

You picked it all up relatively fast and before you knew it you had your license and regular drives have now become a part of your routine whenever your military man is in. Getting on the highway, opening the bike up as you go faster and faster, weaving through traffic with Simon always right by your side, there is something exhilarating about it all. And now you had the best view of that gorgeous specimen of a man.

Being able to see you on your own bike makes Simon have a taste of his own medicine because fuck did you look a goddamn beauty. Is this how you feel looking at him? The way it makes your back arch, full juicy arse just calling his name, has him salivating whenever he gets to see it. And he can’t help what it causes him to do; it’s not his fault when you look the way you do. The first time he ever pulled his little stunt, a ritual of sorts that he has to engage in every time you’re out driving together, you had a hard time focusing on the road after.

Bringing his bike close beside yours, he reaches out and runs his hand over the curve of your ass, making sure that he does it long enough that the other motorists behind you both can see him claim his hot biker vixen as his. You belong to him and he wants everyone that can see to know it.

And fuck does it drive him wild and have you reeling every time.

This goes on for quite a while, and all the times he’s touched you while riding have conjured up a new fantasy of yours and you finally decide you have to do something about it. Lately you’ve been thinking: what type of partner would you be if you didn’t return the favor? Simon deserves to be just as flustered too, right? It’s not because you need him to fuck you on his bike, nope, not all.

Is it strange? Maybe. Will he go for it? You aren’t entirely sure, but one thing you do know is that you at least have to try. And if it works out, you know he’ll enjoy it too. On one of the last few nights of his leave, you decide that you’ve got nothing to lose and put your plan into motion.

“You know, it’s been so long since you took me on a ride with you,” you put your case to him tonight. “Like we used to. Me on the back of your bike, wrapped around you tight, you speeding through the lanes with the wind rushing past us. Remember that? I used to get so excited to see you just so you’d take me out with you.”

Those hazel eyes stare back at you curiously; of course he remembers. Christ, how could he ever fucking forget? Still, it’s intriguing to him why you would be bringing this up now. “What’s got ya all nostalgic sweetheart, hmm?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “Ya don’t like ridin’ beside me?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just thought it’d be nice to be close to you again is all, since you’ll be leaving soon,” you say as you bite your lip with a subtle coyness while you stare back at him with those tempting doe eyes that make him melt.

How can he say no to that? To his girl wanting to be near him? Absolutely fucking never.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he responds as he gets up while pointing towards the bedroom, “well, go get dressed then. Can’t say no to ya when ya look at me like that.”

Simon is already sitting on the bike out front ready to go when you emerge from the front door in a short skirt, tight tank top, and leather boots and once again he is reminded just how lucky he is to be with you. This just keeps getting better and better for the ol boy.

Climbing on the back and securing yourself around him, helmets on and visors down, Simon takes off into the night. He can feel the pressure from your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, pressing into his abs as you hold on, the warmth of your chest against his back, your thighs saddled up against his, and he wonders why you both don’t do this more often.

The lights of the city sparkle around you, cutting through the evening like stars to illuminate your way as Simon drifts through the streets, making his way to the highway like he always does. Your heart is beginning to beat faster as you wait for the opportune moment to implement your plan and you silently hope that it works.

On the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, Simon detects the first signs of something happening behind him. The movement is subtle at first and he almost misses that both hands aren’t pinned against his stomach anymore until he detects the warmth from your palm as it comes to rest on top of his thigh. He looks down through the visor of his helmet to where your hand lays as he wonders curiously to himself about the intentions of your actions.

Just what the hell is she up to? he thinks to himself as he turns his attention back onto the darkened road studded with streetlights.

The answer is quickly approaching as he feels your hand on the move again, now inching towards the middle of his broad thighs, moving and stopping, moving and stopping, to the crotch of his jeans and suddenly he understands just as you make first contact with the mass contained inside.

A shiver runs up Simon’s spine and you can feel his back shudder against your chest as you start to rub over the swell, your touches heavy and full of purpose. Over and over again your palm makes purchase with his crotch and you can feel the muscles in his back tense. A part of him wants to pull your hand off so that can refocus, but it feels too damn good to get you to quit. Fuck, the pressure from your hand and the vibration from the bike has him so hard he can barely see straight.

He needs to find some place to stop and fast; if he’s going to come in something it is not going to be his pants, it’s going to be you.

Up ahead he sees an exit fast approaching and he quickly transfers over to the lane and takes it, not having a plan, but hopeful that he will be able to find something satisfactory enough. Brown eyes dart from one side of the street to the other frantically searching for something, anything so that he can pull off. The sign for a large parking garage is illuminated just up ahead; it’ll have to do. He won’t be able to focus for much longer; the pressure of your hand rubbing against his cock mixed with the vibrations from the bike leaves him gnawing at the bit with a need that he desperately has to satisfy. It wouldn’t be safe to keep going, not with the way his limbs are starting to tingle.

Simon drives through the first couple of levels and is glad to see it relatively empty save for a few straggling cars spaced far apart. Perfect, that means no one will be around to disturb him until he has had his way with you. He continues on a couple of levels that are completely empty as he puts you both more in the middle of the structure just to be sure you will be all alone until finally he drives to the back of the garage and pulls into the shadow, parking the bike and shutting it off.

“Hop off,” he says and you immediately do as you're told, taking off your helmet and straightening your skirt as you make it to your feet.

You stand there close to his thigh as he removes his helmet and sets it on the ground on the other side of the bike, running his fingers through his short hair to fluff it up from being crushed underneath. As he sits back up his tattooed arm quickly reaches out behind your head where he grabs your hair into a ponytail in his fist, keeping your head locked while his opposite hand palms around your waist as he leans in with a smirk across his lips and a glimmer in those coffee-colored eyes.

“Whatcha think you’re doin’, sweetheart? Playin’ games, hmm?” he asks as he stares back into your face.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, your tone playful and coy. You know damn well what you are doing and he isn’t dumb enough to think you don’t.

He glares back at you skeptically. “Right.”

“What?” you dismiss him. “I thought you didn’t mind a bit of touching when we ride? Always grabbing me; thought you’d enjoy a bit of fun.”

There it is; this is payback for all the times he’s made his move while you were out cruising together. And fuck, has it worked to perfection.

Simon rips his hand from your waist and wraps it around your wrist so that he can pull your hand forward and place it right up against the stiffening peak straining against the zipper of his form fitting jeans.

“So this is whatcha fuckin’ wanted, yeah?” he asks, breathiness in his gruff tone as your hand makes contact with the rigid bulge. “Gettin’ me so fuckin’ hard I can’t even be bothered ta wait till we get back home ta fuck ya?”

Can’t wait? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? God, you hope so. “What do you mean?” you ask, faking your ignorance as you rub your palm over the swell while maintaining eye contact. “We aren’t going home?”

A deep hum echoes through the atmosphere as he bites his bottom lip; you’ve started something that can’t be stopped now and the way your hand continues to stimulate him, he doesn’t think you want it to anyway. “No,” he says with a shake of his head, “ya wanted to start all this on my bike, that’s fine. Guess I deserve it. But now…I’m gonna make damn sure I finish ya on it.”

As you stand there silently waiting to see what he does next, Simon shifts back in the seat and helps you climb back onto the bike, but facing him so that he can lay you over the fuel tank. He plants his feet firmly onto the ground to keep the setup steady and pulls your body down, those rough hands pushing your skirt up off your hips to your waist as he forces your legs open wider so he can get himself between them.

Thank God you’ve worn something easy to get into. Or was that your plan all along? Doesn’t really matter much now; he’s in.

Simon looks down and his eyes catch sight of a dark spot in the crotch of your panties. He presses his hand up against the mound of your cunt and the pressure makes you twitch, your back arching up off the tank as he feels what he had just suspected: you’re a little damp.

“Seems someone’s already stirred up,” he comments as his hand releases the pressure only to press in tight all over again in a pattern that matches his increasing heart rate. “Ya like it, don’t ya baby? The way tha bike vibrates ‘tween your legs? Like the way it hums against ya ‘till your clit is swollen?”

Simon’s hard-on throbs harshly against the zipper of his pants and into your naked thigh, tenting the fabric while he grinds it into the muscle as you wrap your legs around his hips; you have to hold on as you can’t stop the way your body jerks the longer his touch prods against those sensitive lips. Just the pressure alone after the drive is enough to make you whimper inside your closed mouth.

“Have ya been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ like this? Me fuckin’ ya raw while you’re on this thing?”

Releasing his hand, he walks those long fingers over the top of your clothed pussy to the waistband of your panties so that he can slip them inside and back down to the moist slit waiting eagerly for their touch and there it is, the unmistakable sound of his breath hitching as his hand makes contact. God, you always feel so fucking good.

He uses his two middle fingers to part the lips of your slit and run them along the length to gather all the wetness he can on his digits so that once he finds your entrance he can easily slip up inside while the tip of his thumb nestles against your clit. You’re very warm, nice and hot and soft against his fingertips and a pleasurable hum he gives in response to the feeling.

“Ya know, I know why ya started ridin’ with me,” he says as you squirm. “I could see it in your eyes the second I pulled in to pick ya up that first time: ya like the way I look on my bike. Don’t ya?”

Your silence is met with a heavy jab with the pad of his thumb to that sensitive little button, holding it down until you are forced to answer as he thrusts his fingers inside you up to the knuckle. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping tight around the digits as you suck him in.

“Yes,” you say in a whine and buck as his stocky fingers give you a nice starting stretch. “You

look so f-fucking hot on this thing that sometimes I d-don’t know what to do with myself. That’s w-why I n-need…”

“What do ya need, sweetheart?” he groans as he curls his rough fingers up against your G-spot as his thumb begins to stroke concise circles upon your clit. “Use your words.”

You swallow hard while breathing heavily out of your nose as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly crying out in ecstasy at that first contact he makes. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds as he pins his thumb down hard again. “Let me fuckin’ hear ya. Ain’t no one here ‘cept us.”

A desperate moan escapes your lips and echoes through the empty space as you let it all out. “I need you to f-fuck me on y-your b-bike,” you say as you vibrate under his skilled touch. “B-been daydreaming about it for a while. Didn’t know if you’d want to, but I’m desperate.”

Using a flick of his wrist, he begins to snap his fingers up into you faster and faster, those fingers vigorously working your cunt until your juices are starting to dribble down to collect on his palm and the sound of wet slaps reverberate off the concrete.

“All ya had ta fuckin’ do was ask,” he says. “Ya know I’d do anythin’ for ya, luv; my pretty girl always gets what she wants.”

You look so beautiful sprawled over his bike like this, disheveled skirt shoved up to your ribs, his hand plunged into the front of your panties so that they are stretched tight around your hips ready to rip, back arching as he again strikes right at the exact point of pleasure, tiny beads of sweat sparkling over the exposed parts of your flesh as you burn for him in the warm night air. It’s an image he’s gonna have committed to memory; every time he rides now he will remember the gorgeous mess he made of you.

If he thought he liked his bike before, it is nothing compared to how he will feel after fucking you on it.

Minute after minute each stroke draws you near that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off. Your walls are fluttering around his fingers as they swell and become engorged the closer you get. Simon knows that it won’t be long now and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. But not like this, oh no.

He has still been chomping at the bit to relieve the pressure throbbing between his legs and now that he is sure you are ready for it, he isn’t going to waste time. You’re still in public after all, he doesn’t need this to end before you’ve both gotten off. Amidst your whimpered protests to keep going, that you are almost there, he pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch, your lubrication dripping along his fingers and glistening in the harsh lighting inside the garage.

You lean your head up as Simon pulls his fingers apart to watch the sticky fluid string between them before he brings them to his mouth and rams them into his lips to lick them clean, taking care of the mess he’s created from his touch. Just a taste to sait him, as if his face isn’t going to be plastered between those thighs later as he replays the memory of what happened here.

The sight of him sucking the lubrication off his fingers has you gasping for air. How can someone look so perfect doing something so filthy? You need him, bad. “Please,” you beg with a needy whine in your voice, “I want you inside me.”

Those words are like striking a match near a gas leak; suddenly he is scrambling to move as fast as possible. Feverish hands are clawing at clothing at breakneck speeds as his flesh begs to connect with yours and complete this union. “Ya can shoot me dead if I ever say no to that,” he growls as he moves.

Time is of the essence and so he quickly rips the soaked crotch of your panties to the side, securing them against your thigh and out of his way as his free hand ruthlessly yanks at the button on his pants to get it undone before he wrenches down the zipper and releases his cock that is throbbing and aching with his rapid heartbeat.

“Gotta make this quick, yeah?” he groans as the caress from his hand over the tip is almost too sensitive to handle. He’s falling fast. “Don’t want no one seein’ ya like this ‘cept me.”

Leaning down, he places a brief, heated kiss with his warm lips to the exposed skin near your belly button before he has you sitting up so that he can get at those lips he yearns to feel against him as he enters you. The threads of your panties are beginning to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way so he can move his hips in as he aligns the head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole.

Eyes closed and acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, he mutters a rushed “Breathe” into your open mouth as a warning while his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. The tip prods the opening before it pushes through and slides up inside, the rest following behind in one steady, fluid motion until he reaches the base and there is no more to shove inside you.

Simon shudders at the overwhelming euphoria hitting him all at once and now he’s burning from the inside out, his bulky chest taut with each heavy breath that he releases between kisses as the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his phallus drowns out everything else that surrounds him.

You throw your head back, breaking the kiss to cry out as you are filled to the brim, being stretched to capacity with all he has to give. His hand grabs at the back of your head so that his lips can shoot back to yours as a tether to help you calm until your body can be allowed a little time to adjust; he’s not exactly small by any means of the word.

It’s a few seconds before he releases your mouth as he starts to thrust, trying to go slow at first even though he is eager for more. Hips rolling at a steady pace now he pulls back to watch himself pump in and out of you. “Look,” he says in a breathless growl as the hand on the back of your head directs your eyeline down in between your bodies. “This what ya been fuckin’ fantasizin’ ‘bout? I think it looks even prettier on my bike.”

The way his swollen, veiny cock disappears as it slides up into you is mesmerizing. You can feel it but still seeing it has you questioning…where does it all fit?

He keeps you close as he picks up the pace until the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space. Panting into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon puts more into his thrusts so that even the bike itself begins to rock with you from the force. The longer he goes the more feral he gets, relinquishing any hold he had on his sanity for as long as he gets to have his body stay fitting so nicely into your cunt.

It’s building, the warmth in the pit of your stomach is gathering steadily as the epinephrine releases all those euphoric chemicals into your bloodstream. The risky nature of your endeavor, the stimulation he’s already produced with his fingers, the fulfilling of your fantasy, it all works together to fuel your passion and his strong thrusts have you ready to spill over the edge at any second.

Simon keeps his pace even as he is now struggling to keep it together. The excitement has gotten to him too so that if he lets himself lose control he is going to come and he can’t have that, not until you have. With each passing second, each pound of that deadly appendage inside you gets more and more desperate, until he finally hears those sweet, sweet words that make his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation as you try to keep your volume at a reasonable level while he slams into you again. “So c-close…”

“Come for me, baby, that’s it,” he coaxes desperately through gritted teeth as he strains to hold on a little longer. Just a little bit more and you’ll finish and he can let go.

That’s when an idea is thrust into his brain and he knows what he needs to do to bring this full fucking circle for the both of you; complete the fantasy and give you even more to dream about for later. Simon moves over top of you to force you back until you find yourself against the fuel tank again.

Reaching above your head, he cranks the key and restarts the engine. The motorcycle roars to life, filling the garage with its sound, and begins to vibrate until it is pulsating through his body as he thrusts into you harder and harder. It’s like having your own living dildo that only intensifies the stimulation the longer he plunges into your dripping hole; a few more seconds of this and you will be coming on his cock.

And then he revvs the engine…

The stimulation is too much and suddenly you are forcibly thrown over that precipice as you come with such force, like a hot flash of white light, that your thighs clamp down around his hips as your head falls back. You cry out in choking gasps as your orgasm tears through you; so strong that you are shaking. Your walls are fluttering sporadically around his cock as your hips buck against him unrelentingly and he can’t hold back any longer.

“Where do ya want me?” he pleads as his fingertips claw at your hips, stabbing harshly into the muscle as he holds on for you to answer; he is about to blow.

“In me, in me,” you whine as you clamp your legs down hard to keep him in. What else were you on birth control for other than this?

He jerks violently as your pussy continues to flutter around him, making his limbs numb from the pleasure, and with a loud groan that is akin to the bellow of a wild beast, the pressure building at the base of his spine finally reaching its peak and he falls over the edge as he lets it go. His hips never stop, slamming into you as the thick, warm fluid coats the inside of your pussy.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv,” he repeats as he shuts off the engine while he milks himself dry, his thrusts slowing down after a few seconds until they stop all together and he stays with his cock still buried inside you to let your body finish off the rest.

An unknown amount of time passes as your unsteady breathing slowly returns to a more tolerable rhythm, all the while Simon just sits there admiring the products of his labor: the beautiful flush in your cheeks and the contented, glazed look in your eyes, until he can find his voice again once his heartbeat has settled.

“Ya know, I’ve gotten plenty a compliments about my bike, but I gotta say that you’re the prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever rode, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls you in by the back of your head to press another breathless kiss onto your lips.

It is torture having to pull out of you, but even he isn’t delusional enough anymore to think that you can just stay like this for much longer. You’ll have to go soon and he needs to help you to redress as your legs are shaking uncontrollably. There’s no way in hell someone hasn’t heard the noise you’d been making.

“Was it everythin’ ya hoped?” he asks with a contented smile as he carefully moves you off the bike to your feet so that he can readjust your panties and pull down your skirt back around your hips.

You match his expression through the hazy afterglow of your ecstasy as he finishes you up and gets himself situated. A pretty sizable wet stain darkens the middle of his jeans, but he doesn’t pay it any mind; a risk of a good fucking time, that’s all.

“Better,” you murmur, satisfied.

Bringing his hand up he cups it against your cheek a second before he combs his fingers through your hair until he reaches the back of your head where he holds them wrapped in the strands. There’s one final thing he has to do before you get going and that is to give you one last kiss as praise for doing so well for him. With how strung out you still are from your orgasm, the gentleness of it makes your knees weak.

“Now how ‘bout we get back so we can go for round two?” he smirks against your mouth as he pulls away. “We can pretend I’m your bike and ya can show me how well I taught ya to ride.”

He gets you situated on the back of the bike, helmets and all, and restarts the engine. It bursts to life and that familiar vibration makes you squeeze your thighs together all over again. Simon smirks to himself before he turns to you with the visor still pulled up. He opens yours and leans in. “Keep your thighs tight. I want ya ta keep all that inside til we get back. I got plans to watch it leak out; I think I’ve earned it.”

With a mischievous chuckle, he closes your visor and his and takes off back out of the garage and into the cool night air. Good thing it isn’t far back to the house from here…if Simon doesn’t plan to take a detour first.

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eupheme · 14 days

Text

— into the fire

[series masterlist]

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 1.6k

Tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, rough oral (m rec.), 2 seconds of boot riding, flashbacks, sorta implied mutual pining, threatening with a gun, light degredation, spitting

a/n: please mind the tags! 💕 I heard him say ‘sweetheart’ (derogatory) and I was a goner. (Cooper is referred to as The Ghoul because I felt like he sure as hell wouldn’t have given Reader his name yet.)

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

(Or - when you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)

Your knees sink dig into the ground, with the downward gesture of his finger.

Eyes tracking the hand that now wraps around his belt buckle, then up to the tongue that traps between parted teeth.

No more than a week ago, he had lasso’d a rope around your throat. Bringing you to the ground - his weight of his hips pinning you solidly against the earth.

“There’s a bounty out for a Vaultie like you.,” The Ghoul had growled, as you bucked uselessly against him. “You know that?”

The days since were spent leashed by his side - almost like a pet, with the way he kept a handle on the rope twined tightly around your wrists.

Making you walk ahead, a sharp tug that sent you stumbling if you wandered too far.

All the while, you still felt that gaze that slipped over you.

Dipping with the zipper that had dragged down, pinched between fumbling fingers. Just wanting to feel the breeze against your skin - luxury you never had in the Vault. It lingered where the sweat beaded, nestled down in the shadow between your breasts.

If he needed permission to want you, you’d give it to him.

“You can use me,” You had told him - desperate, one night. “Whatever you want. Please, I can’t go back.”

“You best think twice about what you’re offerin’, sweetheart.” The Ghoul has rasped. A tilt of his head, as his eyes dragged over you.

You let them, your own eyes wandering as well. Across gaunt eyes and roughened skin, trying to piece together the man beneath.

Picking up on tiny things in the days that followed. Clinking spurs, his accent - akin to old programs they used to show back at your Vault. Hints that he’s been around a long, long time.

The Ghoul was terrifying in a way that thrilled you. You’d never seen someone move like he did, drawing faster than you could blink. A nightmare shrouded in a tattered leather coat, moving like a ghost.

He could rip your throat out with his bare teeth.

But he hadn’t.

You hadn’t had much to bargain with but you begin think even if you had caps - you might have ended up right here anyways.

But he hadn’t made a move to touch you.

Not until today, when your packaged water had run dry.

Until he saw the way you eyed him, envious. Another ten miles of desert road ahead, the sun following you from above and your throat growing drier with each one.

“You want some?” He asked, letting you watch the bead of water that rolled down his chin. “Then I think you know what you need to do, sweetheart.”

He’s collecting on your offer, now.

Adjusting himself, under the shadow of a crumbling building. Your thighs parting as you find your balance, fists pressing into uneven ground. The rope tied around fixed firmly under the heel of his boot, leaving you unable to use them in a manner you’d like.

The Ghoul’s hat shields his eyes, but he can’t hide the curve of his cock against his pants - the interested twitch, when he frees himself.

“Don’t get shy on me, now.” He clicks his tongue, fingers wrapped around the base, “This was your idea, after all.”

There’s a warmth pooling in your belly, as you shuffle closer. The part of your lips, the peek of your tongue against the tip.

It’s much like the rest of him. Pulled-tight pink skin, roughened and wrinkled divots. Velvety and warm, as you take him into your mouth and suck.

He swells, as your lips wrap around him. As he inches deeper, with the shallow bob of your head. Heavy against your tongue, it’s not long at all before he’s fully hard.

You try to take more, struggling with your limited balance, the full size of him. Teeth scraping against skin, when his hand twists in your hair.

There’s a ragged groan rattling in his throat - then there’s the cool press of a muzzle against your cheek, the low growling drawl of his voice.

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

Your heartbeat thuds beneath your ribs. His message clear - fuck around, use your teeth on him, and you won’t live long enough to find out.

You don’t test him. His grip lingers, until you go loose. Eyes lifting to meet his, letting him guide you.

The tightness in him unknots as well, when you let him into your throat. A low grunt, risking a glance down to see how well you take him - an unconscious buck of his hips into your waiting mouth.

“Not even two weeks out and you’re already sucking cock,” He grits out, “So fucking eager to do it, too. You like ghouls sweetheart? Or just me?”

His voice rips into you, sending your nerves alight. He leaks against your tongue as you trace the rough skin, unable to help groaning.

“Fuck,” The Ghoul growls, “Just mine. Let me hear you say it.”

His grip loosens, pulling himself from you. Spit clinging from the head of his cock to your lips as you swallow. A hand pinching at your chin, forcing your face to stay tipped up to his as you answer.

“Just yours.”

“Good,” He thumbs at your chin until you open again, tongue waiting against your lip. Filling you slowly this time, until he’s nudging against the back of your throat. Tears prick at your eyes, as you try not to gag around him.

The slow saw of his hips picks up. It’s difficult without your hands - messy, with the way he uses you. Though there’s something about it that itches at you, deep inside.

Something that makes the tight Vault Suit feel even more constricting. More than aware of the dampness that pools between your thighs. How the sound of his groans, the tight tug of your hair in his fist makes you clench.

It’s has your thighs pressing together, as he fucks your mouth. A shift of your wrists so you can press the back of your hand against your center - easing some of the ache.

The pull of the rope beneath his boot has his eyes flicking further downwards. A cruel smile, when he sees.

“Getting off on this, sweetheart?”

You whine, and the smile widens.

“Filthy thing, aren’t you?” He drawls, with the shift of his thighs. The other boot knocks against your wrists to move them, before fitting it between your thighs. Nudging against your center, giving you something to grind against.

It’s not enough, but you both knew it wouldn’t be.

It would be too kind, otherwise. And he’s shown that he’s sure as hell not nice.

A tear tracks down your cheek with the steady roll of his hips, your nose brushing hot skin with each thrust.

Your eyes shut - mindless, a soft buzz in your throat as you moan around him. Focused on his breath, how it grows short and panting and ragged.

Until he’s pulling himself from you with a grunt, his fist wrapping around his length.

“Unzip, darlin’.” He growls, as he works himself, “As much as I’d love to fully use that pretty mouth of yours, I ain’t about to share my RadAway.”

It takes you a second to catch the zipper on your Vault Suit, dragging it down. From your sternum to your abdomen - revealing the worn, white cotton of your bra, the inches of smooth skin beneath.

A hand frees from his grip in your hair. Touching you again, yanking at your suit and bra until it bares the tight peaks of your nipples.

“Goddamn,” He growls, “Just look at you. Bet you’re nice and messy beneath that suit.”

Fingers cup the weight, before he’s pinching down. Eliciting a soft moan, as his eyes sweep across your face - soft and half-lidded as you watch him.

“Should’ve just fucked you. Would’ve taken me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathe - imagining it. Bent over one of the broken tables inside. His cock buried in your cunt instead of your mouth.

The moan he makes sounds feral - bitten back between clenched teeth. His other hand sliding to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you in place as his fist tightens.

“Look at me,” The Ghoul commands, and you do. Meeting his gaze with pupils that are blown wide, watching how pretty and ruined you look as he comes.

His groan is long and low as he spills across your cheek. The next against your lips, then chin. The jerk of his fist working himself empty across your breasts, until you’re marked thoroughly with him.

Smeared sticky against your skin, leaving you empty and aching as he admires his work. A whine when The Ghoul tucks himself away, his hat tipped down low again.

“Oh,” He mocks, “You think I forgot?”

For the briefest moment, you think he means to touch you. To ease your need - or offer something to clean yourself with - but instead he’s pulling the canteen from his bag.

“Open.” He commands, before he’s taking the last remaining pull.

The protest is caught, as his hand grips your cheeks. As your lips part, like he told you to.

His jaw rolls, pooling the water against his tongue. And with the dip of his head - he spits.

This time, you swallow.

Nothing more was said, after. A cut-up scrap of cloth from his pack, tossed at you. He still clings to your skin, beneath the suit.

But as you start traveling again - as a crop of building rise up along the horizon in the north, that you realize -

You’re pretty certain the path has changed.

ahh I just finished Fallout! What did you all think?? I loved it, and I can’t see what they do with Cooper’s arc in s2 (and of course everyone’s, I loved Lucy as well!) (And would love to know what you thought about this, as well! I have thoughts on a follow-up if there’s interest!) 💖

#he’s so MEAN I loved his character #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout smut #fallout series #fallout #amazon fallout

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stargirlrchive · 6 months

Text

── MINE w/ SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

cw: gender neutral reader, smut, penetration, porn no plot, jealous possessive simon (im riding him as we speak), hair pulling, enemies to fuck buddies (?), that’s all 😜

NSFT ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

GENERAL MASTERLIST

simon’s fingers dipped into the soft plush of your hips as you buried your face into the blankets. his thick thighs pressed against the back of yours as his cock bullied its way into your tight heat.

tangling one hand into you hair to pull you up and tip your head back as he fucked you with an agonizingly slow pace.

“i’m sorry for getting you angry earlier, you’re just so fun to rile up.”

your teeth grit together as you snarled at him, “just shut up, and fuck me.”

he laughed quietly, letting go of your hair to cage you in between himself and the bed. his muscled chest pressed against your back, tilting your head to the side with his nose and he licked down the side of your neck.

“you know you like it when i piss you off. gets you all horny and desperate.”

you growled out his name in warning, but he delivered a particularly hard thrust that had your legs giving out beneath you and you let out a pathetically whiney moan.

“if i got my kicks from being pissed off, i’d just have graves fucks me.”

simon stilled at your words, and an excited thrill ran through you as you tightened around him.

pulsing with nerves as he growled by your ear, “don’t ever mention that bastards name when my cock is inside of you.”

“jealous?”

your back arched again, and in a motion that was lightning fast, he had pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back. your eyes widened softly as his one of his hands pinned your arms above your head.

“need i remind you that this,” he emphasized what he meant by pushing the tip of his cock into you once more, “is mine.”

you were breathless and writhing beneath him as he fully sunk into you, “is it?”

he grunted quietly, lifting your hips to thrust into you deeper. a loud mewl fell from your mouth as he knocked the tip of his cock deep inside of you. pressing against the spot that had you seeing stars.

“yes it is. and you’ll do well to remember that.”

#BRAINROT #simon riley #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley x gender neutral reader #cod #call of duty smut #cod smut

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fallenneziah · 6 months

Note

Omggg I NEED a part 5 of omega!reader and alpha!ghost!!! You left me on a cliff hanger, like is it a boy or a girl!!?!?!?!?

Eh heh, @jax-simp I did that on purpose 🤪 gonna give you two a tiny cute little Riley 😭 literally I thank you guys for coming to support my writing and taking such an interest in this. And hey, if you want, I might try and commit to an entire proper fic for you guys?? This is just about to be super wholesome.

Alpha!Ghost and Omega!Reader pt 5

Pt 1, 2, 3, 4

Omega!Reader who purrs loudly to themself in the car to try and calm down. Feeling like you're going to pop any minute. Ghost beside you who takes your hand, purring alongside you.

Alpha!Ghost who tries to talk you through with affirmation the whole time until you get to the hospital. Bringing you to the emergency room for your pregnancy.

Alpha!Ghost whose protective of you still that he growls and snaps at any of the nurses that try to touch you, especially if their male or another alpha.

Usually when an Omega is giving birth, only Omega nurses and hospital staff will be present so that calmed his fiery nerves a bit.

Alpha!Ghost who stays by your side, making sure that you're ok as they set you up.

Omega!Reader who's in pain and whimpering, grabbing onto Ghost for stability, twisting their hand in his shirt and digging their nails into his scarred hands.

Omega!Reader whose seemingly only calmed a little by Ghost's scent filling the room to cloud your senses and try to soothe you gently.

Omega!Reader who grips the medical bed and snarls at the next nurse that tries to usher Ghost away.

Scents mingling as you moan and whine, breathing heavy in desperation.

Alpha!Ghost who leans in your ear, whispering to you how good you're doing and you'll be a wonderful parent.

"It's ok baby... It's gonna be worth it. Easy, deep breaths... Amazing, you're doing amazing love."

Omega!Reader whose so thrilled, hanging on as they go through the procedures. Barely remembering any of it. It's all a blur. Hanging on to Ghost's hand, purring loudly to try and calm yourself.

Ghost is there, trying to make sure you're ok through the whole procedure. His heart racing to meet his newborn baby.

And then you hear it.

The baby's first cries.

Omega!reader whose completely at ease, purring and coming back into full awareness.

Alpha!Ghost who bristles up in protectiveness when the child is swaddled in blankets and brought to your chest. Soft, fresh clean skin or a wailing baby who is calmed when brought to their carrier.

Omega!Reader whose so gentle, cradling the baby as it feeds, feeling so much love and fulfillment from this new life that they've helped bring to the world.

Alpha!Ghost who watches you hold the child, being pronounced as a boy. His heart settling, watching all the people around the room, shoulders arching back to protect you. His entire weight leaning toward the medical bed to be a shadow for his little boy and his mate.

Omega!Reader who leans toward him, Ghost kissing your forehead, telling you how amazing you did.

"He's beautiful love... You did so good."

Alpha!Ghost who eventually gets skin to skin contact, and he's never felt so amazing. Holding this small child in his arms, feeling him lean and sink into the warm skin of his father.

Alpha!Ghost who gently holds your child, staring up through his eyebrows at anyone who even makes a move or breathes the wrong way. This child means so much to him.

Gently feeling his fuzzy head. Cooing and hicking softly against his chest.

Alpha!Ghost who purrs from deep in his chest to his little one, knowing he'll wait to scent him till his skin is less sensitive.

Omega!Reader who feels tired, but feels so loved and happy watching Ghost accept his child and get so protective over him. And seeing the baby curl right up to him as it's the safest place he could be.

Warm in dad's arms.

Omega!Reader who stays at the hospital with the baby, Ghost wanting to stay as well. That natural draw to protect you and his newborn so strong he fights the hospital workers. But after kissing you goodbye and giving his child a gentle kiss, he departs.

Alpha!Ghost who worries sick for you and his little one every moment he's not around you. Who goes back to the hospital as soon as he can every day to hold the newborn and kiss you.

Alpha!Ghost who is a father now. Protecting you and this kiddo. Whose more protective than ever. Who insists on carrying the carrier when you leave the hospital, you on his other arm.

Your baby needs a lot from both of you.

Omega!Reader having that instinct for the more domestic tasks, feeding him, spending the long nights up, their routine shifting almost naturally into caretaker mode.

Alpha!Ghost who is there to play and help strengthen your little one. But who also steps into the caretaker role with almost as much fluidity as you.

Alpha!Ghost who when your son starts to wail in the middle of the night, kissing your temple, whispering, "I've got it, love. You rest."

Alpha!Ghost who will pick up your son, holding him in his arms and gently rocking him. Who will purr to him, taking care of whatever need has him startled awake.

"Shh, shh, you're ok..." He whispers, finding some milk in the fridge and heating it up just enough, feeding the bottle to your son. "Easy, easy now..." He smiles softly when your son latches on.

"There we go... See? Dad's here, dad is here it's ok."

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't mind losing the sleep so his omega can rest. Sitting up most of the night with your son, even rubbing his scent glands against his small cheek gently, the scent of his father calming him in a soft slumber.

Omega!Reader who misses their alpha in post childbirth and heads down to the living room to see him snuggled up with your son.

Omega!Reader who curls up under Ghost's arm, leaning into his side, smelling his scent and the warmth of his body. Wrapping an arm around the two, getting comfortable.

Alpha!Ghost who even in his sleep pulls you closer, feeling the body's of two very, very special people in his life.

The two of you getting time off so you can be with your child.

Omega!Reader setting up a proper, much, much better nest for the three of you to get cozy in.

Alpha!Ghost who crawls in, your son curled up in his one arm, letting you snuggle up, head buried in his neck. Blankets wrapped around you, making sure you're both comfy.

Alpha!Ghost who stalks behind you when you go grocery shopping. Your son giggling or napping in his seat in the cart.

Omega!Reader happily going about shopping while Ghost eyes up everyone in the store. A woman attempt to come over before swerving away from the look he's giving.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't care who or where, but he protects you with everything he has.

Alpha!Ghost who wears that baby holder thing with your son on his chest napping or looking around the world. His scent close and his body warm.

Alpha!Ghost who is at ease with his son so close like this. He knows you will and do take amazing care of his son. But the protective aspect of him isn't easy when it also brings him a sense of worry.

Alpha!Ghost whose worries are only calmed by you two, wrapping his arms around you after a nightmare, smelling your scent. Waking up in a cold sweat hearing your baby wailing. Rushing across the hall only to see you already rocking him.

"He's ok love, I've got him." You reply softly with a little smile.

Ghost who exhales softly, coming over and hugging you from behind, wrapping his arms around you and cupping the back of his son's head as he settles.

"Wasn't worried..." He mutters into your hair.

"I know you were." You chuckle softly.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't know what he'd do without his little family. But when he has to leave again, he gets a bunch of new things for his son. Toys that hopefully he'll be able to understand and start to play with as he grows. Scenting every single one so each one smells safe like dad.

Omega!Reader who wanted to have this family with Ghost knowing that they will stay home when Ghost goes off to serve.

Omega!Reader who finds it really hard to drive through without Ghost. The stress getting to them a lot. And yet they keep going.

Omega!Reader who lays down to bed at night, snuggling up to Ghost's side to smell his pillow, the lingering scent helping to sleep.

Alpha!Ghost who keeps a photo of you and his son in his jacket to look at whenever he misses you. And calls you whenever he can.

Omega!Reader who gives your son one of Ghost's shirts to sleep with in his crib, afraid without it he'll forget his father's scent.

Omega!reader who calls Ghost when your son begins to walk, crying about how happy you are, Ghost feeling his own tears as he tells you how he wished he saw it.

"I'll be home soon love. I promise, I will."

Omega!Reader who hears he's coming back and waits by the door all day.

When the door opens you nearly burst into tears then and there, wrapping your arms around him. Nuzzling up to him, smelling him, feeling him. Missing him so much.

Alpha!Ghost who rubs his cheek all over you first thing, re-scenting you as soon as he's home because he misses you so much.

Alpha!Ghost who kisses away your tears and holds you close to him.

Omega!Reader who was worried your son wouldn't remember him, until he's crawling over from where he was on his playmate. Cooing and trying to wiggle up to his feet.

Omega!Reader who rushes to help, but your son is smiling his big gummy smile, already waddling over to him.

Alpha!Ghost who bursts into tears, picking up his little one and kissing him all over, scenting him and hugging him. Oh how he missed him. Hugging both of you in his arms tightly.

"I missed you both so much." He whispers, kissing your heads. "I missed you."

"We missed you too." You respond, buried in his side. His son centered on his chest, little hands clinging to him like iron.

Alpha!Ghost who holds your child for the rest of the afternoon because he doesn't want to be put down. Although tired he holds him and rocks him until his eyes are heavy toward the evening and he sleeps.

Alpha!Ghost who lays him down for bed, kissing you tiredly and inviting you for a shower so he can hold you. Tired and feeling your skin pressed against his under the warm water. Kissing your neck and shoulders.

"I missed you." He whispers again.

You wrap your arms around him. "I missed you too, Simon."

Alpha!Ghost who is so proud of you for being strong without him. Taking care of your son and raising him while he wasn't there for a bit.

Alpha!Ghost who carries you off to bed, snuggling back up in his nest, missing it. Smelling more of you. He brings you close, holding you tightly, and relaxes. Finally home, with his family. Where he knows he belongs...

#i wanted to put more but it kind of spilled out weirdly #anywho #you have a son now #so congrats #simon ghost riley #cod smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #alpha!simon riley #alpha simon riley #alpha!ghost #omega!reader #omega reader #omegaverse

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moremaybank · 7 months

Text

INNOCENCE + STEPCEST — r.c

pairing rafe cameron x step-sister!reader

warnings unprotected sex, fingering, slight (??) oral sex (fem. receiving), stepcest (obvi), innocence kink, loss of virginity, rafe has a daddy kink, language/dirty talk

author's note i'm so sorry for the wait on this, but i hope it was worth it ♡︎

kinktober masterlist ;; rafe masterlist

⋆༺♱༻⋆

Rafe’s hot breath on your skin made the hairs on the back of your neck rise, and goosebumps started to form in response. His fingers pulled at the strings of your dress, loosening the straps so he could gently tug them down your shoulders. He littered wet kisses there as his nose took in your scent.

Sweet, hypnotizing, you.

“You’re so beautiful, princess,” he breathed, turning you around to face him. His warm palms brushed over your covered nipples, feeling them perk up beneath his touch. Your breath grew shaky as his hands trailed down your sides, skimming over your waist, hips and thighs. They slipped underneath the bottom of your dress, teasing the waistband of your panties. “So pure.”

“Rafe, we shouldn’t.” Your voice trembled and you shivered. “It’s not right.”

“It is, baby. It is right. You just don’t know it yet.”

You watched Rafe crouch down, raising the bottom of your dress above your hips. His nose traced your slit, feeling the soft cotton and lace fabric rubbing against it. He inhaled deeply, eyes rolling back as he savoured it. Pulling the thin number down your legs, he let them pool around your ankles before helping you step out of them. He pocketed them, saving them for later when he couldn’t have you with him, under him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you murmured timidly. Your cheeks were hot to the touch, and the nerves were taking over. Rafe was gorgeous. Dangerous and thrilling, so much so that you didn’t know what to do with yourself when you were around him. He made you feel things you hadn’t known to exist, a million different feelings flooding you and leaving you breathless.

“That’s okay, sweet girl. I’ll show you.” He rose back onto his feet, his hands now finding your face. He peered down into your eyes. “Bet you haven’t even touched yourself, have you? Don’t even know all the ways I’m gonna make you feel good.”

Rafe’s hands stripped you of your dress, casting it away on the floor. His blue eyes lit up once he got a look at your body, stripped and completely bare before him. His hands moved delicately, brushing over your tits and stomach so lightly that you shivered. Then his touch dipped, ghosting over the front of your core. You trembled, slightly shocked, and a smile tugged at the corners of Rafe’s lips.

“You’re like a doll. Dainty and soft and gentle. And if I’m not careful,” he pauses, his bottom lip sinking between his teeth momentarily, “I could break you.”

You gulped, feeling the blood rush to your poor, untouched pussy. It throbbed at his words, his tone, hell, just him in general. But you were puzzled. You’d heard the rumours constantly circling the island about him. Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince. He could have anyone he wished. So, why did he want you?

“Rafe?” You voiced out, quiet as a mouse.

His head ducked down, and he dragged his lips across your clavicle, up your neck to the base of your jaw. He inhaled deeply, drinking in your fragrance again as he hummed in response. “Hm?”

“Why me?”

Rafe pulled away from you, looking down into your eyes so deeply as if he was trying to hypnotize you. He probably could manage to do so, looking and speaking the way he did. But he guided your hand to the prominent bulge he was sporting, helping you rub on him gently. His broad chest rose as he sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering at the contact.

“You see how hard you make me, sweet girl?” You managed to give him a nod, unsure if your voice was even still present. “You drive me insane, and I don’t even think you know it. Always wearin’ those short little skirts and dresses, smelling so damn good. At first, I thought you were just being coy, but now I know…you’re just innocent. Pure and clean. And baby, that just makes me want to ruin you. Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Please,” you breathed.

“Please what, baby? You want daddy to get you nice and dirty? Ruffle those perfect feathers?”

You nodded again. “Yes.”

“Say it. Say it for me.”

“Please make me dirty. I wanna be dirty for you, Rafe.”

“Daddy,” he corrected. His hand found your throat, cupping it at first before squeezing a tad. “Not Rafe. Daddy.”

“Please make me dirty, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Rafe led you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He instructed you to lie down but prompted you to stay up on your elbows so you could watch him. “Eyes on me. Want you to watch, so every time you look down here, you’ll remember that I’m the only one who makes you feel good. Got it, angel?”

“Yes, daddy,” you agreed.

“See? Such a good girl already, listening to me and doing everything I say.” Rafe sunk to his knees again, using his large palms to urge your thighs apart. His fingers massaged your sensitive skin, inching closer to your core with each movement. His lips followed, leaving a trail of wet kisses up your flesh. When he reached your core, he let his tongue trace feather-light lines around you, letting his hot breath fan over your most intimate places. Then he upgraded to licking stripes through your folds. He flicked his tongue over your clit softly, watching you squirm for him at the foreign feeling.

You felt hot, could feel the heat pricking at your skin and the nerves bubbling in your stomach. You weren’t quite sure of the ache in your core, or sure of what all these surfacing feelings for Rafe meant. But you knew without any doubt that you needed him in ways you couldn’t even comprehend. The thought of partaking in an act that you definitely shouldn’t have been, with someone equally as forbidden pulled at you. Reeled you in and promised not to release you if you didn’t explore it.

Rafe’s thumb started to rub circles into your bundle of nerves, and he watched your mouth gape open. Your chest heaved as you kept your eyes trained on his actions. You let out a soft moan.

“‘M warming you up, sweetheart. That feel good?”

“So good,” you exhaled. “More, please.”

“Yeah? You think you can handle it?” His hand came up to the seam of your lips, and he nudged his middle finger into your mouth as he ordered you to suck. You did, lathering his digit up in your spit. He gave you another crooked smile when he withdrew it from your mouth, and brought it down to your entrance, running through the slick seeping from you. He probed his finger, pushing in ever so slightly and revelling in the breathy moan that escapes you. Slowly, he slides inside, not stopping until he’s knuckle-deep. Your walls welcome him in, the fit tight and snug. “So tight, princess. Squeezin’ me so tight, and that’s just my finger.”

You already felt an inexplicable feeling in your belly, barely there but beginning to rumble when he started to push in and out of you. A string of whines falls from your lips as he continues his work, each intrusion more euphoric than the last. His thumb brushes over your clit, starting to stimulate it again.

“I want you to cum, baby. Can you do that for me?” He hooked the finger inside you, hitting a sweet spot inside of you and turning you into putty. He took your cries of pleasure as a yes and swapped out his thumb for his tongue. He lapped at you while speeding up his fingers, and eventually, you erupted. Your release gushed out of you, the warm, glowy feeling rushing through your body. The fine hairs on your skin stood high, your shivering sprouting them up, and you sunk into the mattress as you tried to catch your breath.

What Rafe had done to you was a rush. The way you felt was addicting, and you never wanted the pleasure to stop. You only wanted more. You couldn’t bring yourself to dwell on how wrong it was, because how could something so fucked up feel like heaven to you?

You pawed at him, trying to get his attention. “I want more. Want you.”

“I’m right here, princess. My finger’s still inside you. ‘N my mouth’s about to be back on you.”

“You know what I mean,” you spoke, biting back a whine. You could see the ‘cat got the cream’ expression painted on his face. He knew you craved more than just his fingers or even his mouth. But he wanted to hear the filthy words on your tongue.

“You can say it, sweet girl,” he encouraged. “Tell me you want my cock.”

Your eyes left his, feeling raw and exposed under his heated gaze. He was already turning you into someone you couldn’t recognize, but it was someone you wanted to be. You looked at him again, speaking up. “I want your cock, daddy.”

“There’s my good girl,” Rafe grinned, quickly working to rid himself of his clothing. He urged you to scoot up on the mattress, and he followed you, lying you at the head of the bed. Your legs spread on their own accord, allowing Rafe to slot his body in between them. You both could feel the heat radiating off of each other’s flesh, the desire burning so brightly that it might even blind you. Hell, it already had blinded you.

Rafe cupped your cheek gently and leaned in, finally letting his lips mould with yours. It started slow, but not devoid of passion. Then it deepened, and his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, licking at you and letting you taste the remnants of your sweet release that still lingered on him. He sucked on your tongue, the action sending more fire between your legs. He pulled away just slightly, enough to speak against your lips.

“I’m gonna take this slow, sweetheart. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”

“Yes, daddy,” you said, your doe eyes boring into his.

The look on your face made Rafe’s head spin. You were a dizzying concoction of virtue and innocence, yet you were more than willing to be walked into the dark side by him. You would take his hand and let him tug you into the depths of hell and everything that accompanied it. He almost didn’t want to stain you, change you forever, but then he thought about how no one else had ever had you in a compromising position like this. No one had ever touched you or tasted you, or been inside of you the way he soon would be. And nothing would ever be great enough to make him walk away from that offer.

Drawing back from you, Rafe spat down onto your core, watching it dribble down your folds. He gripped his cock, guiding it through your folds to lube himself up. Unable to resist, he rutted his length against your clit, providing you both with some friction. He wanted you as wet as he could get you before he stretched you out, which wasn’t to say that you weren’t already dripping with both your arousal and release, but he wanted you on cloud nine when he finally buried himself inside you.

“You ready, sweet girl?” His eyes found yours as his tip kissed your entrance. You nodded, giving him a yes as your hands ran up his forearms, bracing yourself. He pushed inside bit by bit, feeling the pure bliss of your tight, wet heat casing him in. It took everything in him not to slam inside of you because feeling you felt so damn good and he needed you fully wrapped around him. But still, he managed to take his time.

Your body was tense, muscles clenching at the wide stretch of his intrusion. Your nails printed crescent shapes into his skin, and your eyes welled with tears. It stung, and Rafe noticed the pained look on your face.

“Hey,” he cooed, “Relax for me, yeah?”

His fingers sought after your clit, massaging it the way he’d learned that you liked to relieve at least the tiniest bit of discomfort. He ducked his head down, letting his lips paint sweet kisses into the crook of your neck. He made his way up, eventually finding your mouth and kissing you as he finally bottomed out. The stimulation on your clit didn’t stop, only continued as you started to feel that pleasure inside. Rafe shifted, and the small movement filled you with butterflies. You looked up at him, eyes pleading silently as you moved your hips against him.

“Can I move, baby?”

“Please.”

He pecked your lips and began to pull out of you. He didn’t go too far before pushing in again, hearing you moan. He guided your legs around his waist, and you held him close, tighter and tighter as he continued thrusting into you. His lips peppered kisses anywhere they could reach, nibbling and sucking, licking, and whispering sweet words of praise as you took him.

“You feel so good, princess. So fuckin’ tight, can barely take it.”

Your hands moved from his arms, looping around the back of his neck as you stared up at him—the sight before you majestic. Rafe was undoubtedly perfect, so handsome and devilish. His lust lit his eyes up, making the blue orbs sparkle. His jaw was tense, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he took what he craved from you. His hands cascaded along your sides, squeezing your hips as he started to fuck you deeper, more calculated. His only goal was to turn you into putty in his hands, and he was far-past succeeding.

“You like it, baby? Like the way I feel inside you?” He questioned. You whimpered out a yes, clutching onto him. “You gonna tell our parents how hard your big brother makes you cum?”

Your walls started to clamp down on him, milking him as his words goaded you.

“What about letting me fuck you while they’re home? Gonna have to be nice ‘n quiet if you don’t want them finding out about our little secret.”

Your cries had reached shameless heights, growing louder as the discomfort faded away completely. Rafe’s hands both cupped your face, holding your eyes on him as he wordlessly reminded you that he was the one responsible for the high you were riding.

“Oh, baby,” he crooned. “You’re so beautiful. Knew it all this time. But you’re fuckin’ perfect while I’m fucking you.”

The look on your face was pathetic, your brows pulled together and jaw slack as Rafe kept you locked in the intimate moment between you. He knew what he was doing, there was no doubt about it. He had you right where he wanted you, and to be honest, you didn’t want to be anywhere else. You now knew that all you needed was him.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” He nosed at your cheek, leaving a kiss there too. You couldn’t manage anything more than a mewl, and his head rose to look at you. His voice carried a soft tone as he spoke. “Tell me.”

You felt his intense gaze trained on you, even as your eyes shut for a swift moment. He was waiting for your response as if the tell-tale signs your body was giving him weren’t enough confirmation.

“‘M gonna cum, daddy. I’m close,” you croaked. “Please let me cum.”

“You got it, sweet girl. Go ahead. S’gonna feel so good, promise.” His forehead plastered against yours as his thrusts grew more selfish. Your orgasm shattered you into a million pieces, the rush eliciting the loud call of Rafe’s name. He nodded, letting you feel it. “That’s it. There we go. So good, princess. So damn good.”

He twitched inside of you, right at the edge, about to fall over. “Gonna cum inside you. Gonna claim you. You’re mine, got it?”

You nodded, eyes hooded and hazy as you tilted your head up to kiss him.

“Tell me you’re mine, baby.”

“Yours,” you repeated. “All yours.”

Your words gave him the final push, and he came inside you. You felt the warmth of his cum painting your walls, and you clenched around him again when his groan filled your ears. He cussed loudly, and nothing had ever sounded better.

“That’s right,” he spoke, going back to your conversation from earlier. “You’re mine. No one else will ever have you the way I do.”

⋆༺♱༻⋆

RAFE TAG LIST (JOIN HERE): @pankowperfection @maybankslover @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @softherveauxs @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @countryclubkook @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @belcalis9503 @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafesthroatbaby @maybanksbabe @slut4drudy

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jamespotterismydaddy · 7 months

Text

Little Bride

daemon x niece!reader smut

A/N: based on a request here! also i don't understand high valyrian conjugation so kepa just means father in every time it's used

TW: smut!!, incest, DUBCON, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, spanking, exhibitionism because of under the table shenanigans

word count: 1,563 words

You haven’t seen Daemon since you were seven years old and you’ve missed him deeply. Everyone says that he hates Alicent Hightower’s children but he always said you had the true blood of the dragon running in your veins. You were always his favourite but it’s been over a decade since his latest exile and you most definitely aren’t a little girl anymore.

“Zaldrīzes riña.” (dragon girl) You hear from behind you as you make your way to your chambers. Only one person calls you that.

“Kepus?” You say as you turn around and squeal when you lay eyes on him. You run down the hallway and throw your arms around his shoulders before blushing when you realize how unladylike your actions are. You slowly remove yourself from him. “Sorry.” You say timidly. He laughs.

“Don’t be. I don’t remember the last time someone was so thrilled to see me.” His eyes take in the sight of you but you don’t notice the predatory nature of his gaze. “You’ve grown, little girl.”

“That’s what happens when you are away for so long.” You say petulantly. He chuckles and looks over you. His eyes fixate on the swell of your breasts. He seems like he may say something when he’s interrupted.

“Should you not be preparing for supper, daughter?” The voice of the Queen rings out as she shoots the filthiest glare at your uncle. Your mother hates Daemon.

“Of course, your Grace.” You say and curtsey before running off, shooting your uncle a passing smile.

“I'll see you at supper then, zaldrīzes riña.” Daemon calls out after you. He looks to your mother. “Hello, Alicent. You’re looking well.” He says with a wolfish grin and makes himself busy with greeting another noble before the Queen can retort.

~~~

When you arrive to the family dinner that night, Daemon has saved a spot next to him for you, much to your mothers dismay. You take it eagerly.

“Glad to have you home, brother.” The King says as he raises his cup and you all follow in suit, toasting to Daemon’s return.

The room falls into steady conversation, steady enough for people to not notice when

Daemon whispers things in your ear that make you blush.

“This is a very pretty dress, niece.” He says as he plays with the collar of the gown. His hand begins to trail down it. “Very expensive fabric.” The roaming hand decides on its destination being your upper thigh.

“T-Thank you.” You say with a light smile as he turns his attention elsewhere, talking to your father about things that you don’t understand.

After a few moments, the hand on your thigh begins to move. You sigh in relief, hoping he will take it off and relieve you of the warm feeling in your tummy but that isn’t what happens. Your uncle’s hand moves discreetly to the hem of your skirts, and to your dismay, he begins to lift them. You give him a pleading and confused look, not really sure what’s happening but he doesn’t even look at you as he seems to be fully focused on his conversation with your father.

You take a sip of wine, trying to distract yourself, but it only causes you to choke as you feel his fingers ghost over your smallclothes.

“Are you alright?” Daemon says in a faux-concerned tone as you cough. You only manage to nod in response before he goes back to ignoring you.

He slips his fingers to the side of your undergarments and pushes them to the side so he can feel how wet you are. You could swear you see a slight smile twinge at his lips. You try not to look at him, or anybody, as you feel his two fingers slip inside of you. You hope you don’t give anything away with your face as you reach down to clutch his hand, trying to pull it away, to make him stop, but it’s to no avail. Your attempts are almost pathetic with how little they do to faze him.

The whole scene of it is filthy, Daemon talking politics with his brother as his fingers pump in and out of his virgin niece’s soaked cunny right next to him, her father right across the table from the two of them. One look at the princesses face could have them both found out as she tries not to squirm in her seat.

You feel yourself edging closer to your peak but it never comes. You’re humiliated by the whole act of it but you feel needy for him when he pulls his hand away. You hold in a visible reaction even though it seems that Daemon wouldn’t know the difference as he acts like he never even touched you.

For the rest of dinner, you’re unfocused. Aemond tries to make conversation with you but you can’t do much more than nod and give short answers. You’re very much in disbelief that you hardly realize when supper has ended. Your brothers and sister leave quickly. Your mother left early with your father because of his sickness. You’re left alone with your dear uncle and some servants.

“Leave us.” Daemon says and the servants scurry out of the room.

Your uncle stalks over to you and you keep inching away until you hit the table. He towers over you. You still feel like a child next to him.

“Kepus.” You try to speak sternly. “What you did was wrong and you shall not do anything like it again.”

“If it was wrong then why did you like it so much?” He looks you in the eyes as he grabs your chin and tilts it up.

“It was terribly improper.”

“Hmm. I think you liked the attention. Daddy never gives you any, does he? And mommy is too focused on her problem child.” He says condescendingly.

The hand that doesn’t hold your chin goes to your waist. He traces up and down… the curve of your hips… of your breasts.

“I’m a princess. I get more than enough attention.” You say petulantly but your voice wavers.

“Then why haven’t you pushed me off?” He asks and you immediately try to push him away… pathetically. It’s little effort for him to turn you around and bend you over the table with your hands pinned behind you. “Dumb girl. Look at your trying to put up a fight. It’s not nice to deny kepa.” Kepa, he says, not kepus.

“Get off of me!” You try to squirm under his grasp.

“What happened to the girl a few hours ago who was so excited to see me?” He teases as he begins to use one hand to hike up your skirts.

“Kepa-... kepus, stop now!” You cringe when you call him the name he just referred to himself as.

“Aww so you like calling me that. You want daddy to take care of you.” He gets your skirts to your waist and you feel the cold air when he tugs your smallclothes.

“No, kepusss.” You whine at him and squeal when his hand slaps your ass.

“That’s not what you’re meant to call me, baby. And you need to be quiet, don’t want the guards outside to hear when i’m pounding the little princesses cunny, do we?”

“But… kepa i-i’m meant to save myself for my husband.” You say when you feel something long and hard rubbing between your thighs. His hand snakes around and he shoves two fingers in your mouth.

“Good, then i’ll get to bloody my cock with your maidenhead.” He says simply before shoving himself inside, the fingers in your mouth barely muting your scream. “That’s it, just take it and suck on kepa’s fingers like a little baby.” He says as he keeps bullying his cock inside of you. “Gods, you’re so fucking tight.” He lays another smack on your ass. “I’m gonna put a baby in you, make you mine.”

“Mmm.” You moan around his fingers, starting to realize that you enjoy the treatment once the pain has somewhat faded. He fucks into you as hard as he can, making you see stars.

“I’ll make you my wife and i’ll eat this little cunny every night, have you screaming and begging for me as you cry.” His hands grip your hips roughly and you can feel the formation of bruises coming on. He lets go only for a second so he can spank your ass a few more times because he just loves how you whimper.

You feel him finally start to slow and the deep, lasting thrusts are what sends you over the edge. You have never came so hard as you squeeze around him and feel yourself tense up. He fucks you through your high before spilling his seed deep inside you.

“Fuck.” He says as he takes his fingers out of your mouth.

You still feel molded to the shape of his cock even once he’s pulled himself out.

He wipes your drool away in an almost loving way and then helps you turn around so you can sit on the table. He situates himself between your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did so well, zaldrīzes riña.” He presses a few more kisses to your face and you blush at the tender action. “You’ll make a perfect bride.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

#daemon smut #daemon #daemon targaryen #daddy daemon #daemon targaryen smut #hotd #hotd smut #daemon x reader #daemon x you

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ghostandsoap · 1 year

Text

Call Signs

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! “Gecko” Reader (Ft. John “Soap” MacTavish)

Tags: Angst. Gunshot wound. Blood loss. Shock. Hypothermia. Major injury. Mentions of death.

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: So I’m not totally sure how accurate some of this is. Also, I’m not sure if parts of this are canon? Read with caution LOL.

“Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

Military call signs. Clever, crafty, and specific to the person they’re associated with.

There was one main, golden rule when it came to call signs: don’t complain about your own call sign, or else they’ll give you something worse.

Yours wasn’t exactly one that you were thrilled with in the beginning. It wasn’t as badass as you would’ve liked. If you had been given the opportunity to choose, you would’ve chosen something a little more…tough. But once the name stuck, you were stuck with it. You didn’t dare let even a single word of distaste fall from your mouth. If anybody caught wind of you complaining about it, they’d give you something to really complain about.

Over the years, you had heard some good ones — some more creative than others. Depending on the person, sometimes it was easy to tell the reason behind their given name — other times, not so much. You had some friends that you still didn’t know the reason why they were given their call sign.

For example, Soap was just Soap.

In the time that you had known him, you had begged Soap to tell you where his call sign came from. You had even rattled and poked at Captain Price a bit to get him to give it up. But both of them always gave you the same answer.

It’s classified.

With that answer, you refused to tell anyone the reason behind your own call sign. If they weren’t going to tell you about theirs, then you weren’t telling them about yours. It was only fair, you weren’t telling anybody. Nobody knew.

Well…nobody except–

“Gecko. This is Ghost. How copy?” The syrupy-thick voice seeped through your ear that was still ringing from gunfire.

You were cold – miserably cold. You were chilled all the way to the bone to the point where your skin was numb to the touch. The sound of rain registered with you. The sky was pouring buckets, which explained why you were so freezing. There was no telling how long you had been passed out and exposed to the elements. Not a single part of you was dry, despite all your layers underneath and over.

There was pain somewhere. Your groggy state made it difficult to figure out exactly where you were hurt. To be honest, it hurt just about everywhere. A searing sensation settled in your side, but it was migrating all over. Based on the large red spot leaking through that area, you had a really good idea then of what it was.

“Gecko, do you copy?” Another voice spoke that you knew to belong to Soap.

His voice sounded a million miles away, even though it was literally right in your ear. When your eyes opened, you were eye-level with the ground. You were met with a harsh pavement underneath you, muscles trembling with exhaustion and low temperatures. It took a few seconds for your vision to clear, and it took even more effort for you to raise yourself up even to make it onto your elbows.

When you were able to take a glance around, it wasn’t any less unsettling. The slick streets of Las Almas weren’t very pleasant in the dead of night. Even worse, you didn’t know where Soap and Ghost were.

It all came flooding back to you. Graves turned on the team. He tried to kill all of you. You, Ghost, and Soap managed to split up and narrowly escape. It was chaos, the kind that shaved about 15 years off of your life.

“C’mon. Where are you, Gecko?” Ghost asked in an aggravated, yet worried way.

His question was more out loud and to himself more than anything, but it occurred to you that it probably would be nice for him to hear you.

“I’m here,” You groaned, throat dry and scratchy. “Just barely.”

“Oh shit. You’re alive!” Soap replied, and you swear you could feel Ghost relax from wherever he was.

“What’s your status?” Ghost demanded.

You were not telling Ghost that you were hurt if you could help it. It was certainly against protocol, but you didn’t need Ghost getting all worked up when the three of you needed to find one another and get the hell out of there. You knew how he could get whenever you were hurt.

“Where are you both?” You rolled onto your knees, ungracefully managing to get on your feet.

You felt any and all blood rush from your face, an overwhelming feeling of nausea taking over your stomach. The bleeding in your side was definitely a problem. You stripped your outer jacket off, wrapping it around your waist and tying it as tight as you could possibly stand it. It wasn’t like the jacket was useful any other way, considering it was soaked.

“No fuckin’ idea. I’m in and out of these shops,” Soap grumbled. “I’m soakin’ wet.”

“Me too,” You managed to laugh, but it came out as more of a struggled exhale. “Ghost, what’s your location?”

“The church. Soap’s finding his way here,” Ghost said. “What’s your status, Gecko?”

You knew he’d ask again. He always knew when you had dodged a question.

“Just a little rattled,” You lied. “Where’s the church?”

“It’s in the square. Navigate through the shops, they’ll lead you there,” Soap said. “Stay sharp. Shadows are everywhere.”

Survival mode has kicked in for you. You had one objective.

Find Ghost. Don’t get killed.

“Will do. Ghost, I’m coming to you.” You announced, beginning to take the first few steps to get yourself moving.

There was a brief moment of silence before he answered – and he gave an answer that you knew had Soap raising a brow.

“Please be safe.”

A shudder vibrated down your back, and it wasn’t from the bitter cold rain.

Being involved with Ghost was…complicated. It was a forbidden love in a lot of ways. There was a certain disapproval when it came to 2 members dating within the force. It caused drama sometimes, tension other times. Not to mention, it would be painfully awkward for everybody else if the two of you were to break up.

But the connection was undeniable. It astounded you just how in touch you felt with him. He did everything he could to protect you, to make you feel safe in an otherwise dangerous world. He spent every spare moment with you. He spilled all of his most pressing thoughts to you, knowing his words of vulnerability were safe with you. Talking to him was easy, spending time with him was easier.

Loving him was easiest of all.

Despite your likeness toward each other, it was a mutual understanding that no one was to know. Ghost didn’t fancy all the teasing, and you wanted at least one part of your life to be private. In front of others, you were Gecko and Ghost. When alone, you were Simon and [Y/N].

In a lot of ways, the secretive aspect of it was fun. You liked sneaking around with Ghost in the late hours of the night, tip-toeing around sleeping comrades in an attempt at a moment to yourselves. The nonchalant glances…the discreet, yet lingering touches…the whispers of words of affection. It was all something you couldn’t help but get a kick out of. Anybody in their right mind would find it even a little bit entertaining.

But in all honesty, suspicions from the rest were becoming more and more.

Price had known immediately. Not even three days after you and Simon decided to give it a try, he could sense that something was different. He couldn’t really explain it. He could just see it in Ghost’s behavior that he was preoccupied with something…someone else. Something that had been sprouting for a long time was now beginning to blossom in front of the captain’s very eyes. Price was a respectful man. He wasn’t one to get in the way of something that wasn’t his business. He kept an eye on the situation here and there, more for a status update than anything.

It took Gaz about four months. He suspected nothing in the beginning. He managed to miss all the signs at first. Who could blame him? He didn’t know he was supposed to even be looking for them. He didn’t catch any real changes in behavior or attitude. In all honesty, if he hadn’t witnessed it with his very eyes – he might’ve never known. It had been a quick gesture. So quick that Gaz might’ve been able to convince himself that he was mistaken if it hadn’t been so blatantly clear.

Gaz had passed by a bit quicker than he normally would, catching a quick glimpse inside the room he hadn’t planned on entering. What he saw was a kiss being planted on the cheek of Ghost’s mask, and a light laugh from the man as you did so. Gaz had stopped dead in his tracks, stunned at what he had seen. He was tempted to turn around and question you, but he knew better. Gaz figured if he hadn’t been told outright, then it probably wasn’t for him to know. He kept it in the back of his mind, however, and after that, he began noticing everything.

And as for Soap, the poor lad had yet to connect the dots. He had heard some chatter here and there about Gecko and Ghost “getting it on.” Soap didn’t believe it. He hadn’t seen it or heard it for himself, so in his mind, the rumors were null. That didn’t mean that Soap didn’t like the idea of his lieutenant and one of his closest friends seeing each other. He entertained the thought here and there. He supposed that Gecko and Ghost had a nice ring to it, and it was something that he liked to snicker about. Overall, Soap didn’t think about it too much. There was no way that “LT” and the infamous Gecko were together. Almost a year into it, and John MacTavish was oblivious.

It hadn’t taken you long to develop feelings for Ghost. Suddenly, you were worried about where he was and him getting hurt more often than not. This was one hell of a career to be in when you were an anxious worrier. This job had changed for you. Before, there was no fear of living or dying. It was just you. It was all you. But when there was someone else in the cards?

That changed things. That really changed things.

That seemed to be the only fight that you and Ghost ever had. It was always the same one. One of you fell ill or became injured, it was due to defying an order, the other was scared to death that something worse could’ve happened, and most of all – you both wished that the other would be more careful.

“Careful” was a funny word in this business. No matter how careful you were, that didn’t automatically make you safe.

Roaming the streets of Las Almas while lethargic, unarmed, and bleeding was a definite reminder of that. You followed Soap’s advice, weaving in and out of the stores and getting whatever supplies you could get your hands on. A homemade weapon was better than no weapon, in your mind. Avoiding any and all Shadows was your main goal. There was no chance of you getting out of that alive, if this bullet lodged in your side didn’t kill you first. You hoped that Soap had made it to the church by now. It made you feel better to know that they were together.

The rain showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. You figured it was fine. It wasn’t like you could get any more wet than you already were. It at least made enough noise to conceal your footsteps, which you didn’t have much control over due to the splitting pain in your core.

You just had to get to the church. Get to the church, get out of here, and get patched up. You’d be fine. You’d survived worse. You weren’t going to-

There was a flash of white over your vision. While brief, it was enough to startle you to a complete halt. You staggered out of the coffee shop, leaning against the back door for support. This was bad. This was really bad.

“Ghost…” You squeaked.

Breathing suddenly became overly difficult. Every gulp of air was a struggle to get the next one. There was a significant wobble in your knees as you stumbled into the nearest alley for cover, knowing your legs were close to giving out. It was notably colder in the space between the two buildings, but the feeling of your soul being slowly sucked back into the universe made that seem minor.

“Talk to me. Where are you?” Ghost asked.

That was when you collapsed, landing on the wet ground with a thud. A whimper escaped from your throat at the impact. Clutching your wounded side was all you knew to do. Your jacket used as a makeshift way of putting pressure on it was proving ineffective.

“The alleyway,” You strained. “Left of the coffee shop.”

Ghost and Soap both heard the trouble in your voice. Ghost had only heard that tone once before — and it was when something was really, really wrong.

“What’s your status now?” Soap questioned.

Lying was no good to you now. They were going to know one way or the other.

“I’m down,” You swallowed. “Must’ve been hit at some point when we got away.”

There was no way you were making it to the church. You were as good as gone as long as there was still a bullet in your torso. Bleeding out in the streets of a run-down town in Mexico wasn’t how you had envisioned going out. That was a conversation you had held with Soap more than once. Everybody had their preferred way of dying. You had always hoped that you’d meet your demise in a more memorable way. Maybe in a missile explosion or getting ejected from a helicopter in a hot pursuit.

Dying alone was the part and the possibility that always scared you the most.

This wasn’t what you had in mind. Bleeding to death by yourself in an alleyway in the middle of a run-down town in Mexico wasn’t what you had wished for. You knew the day would come…and the day had finally come.

But not if Ghost could help it.

“I’m coming to get you, Gecko. Don’t move,” Ghost remarked sternly, and you could hear that he was on the move. “Soap, we’ll meet you at the church.”

“Copy.” Soap confirmed.

“N-no,” You coughed. “Ghost, don’t leave your location if you’re secure.”

“None of us are secure. I’m not leaving you,” Ghost said sternly. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

Arguing with Ghost was usually a lost cause. When Ghost was set on something, he was surely going to stick with it. It was a waiting game now, and it was one of the most helpless feelings to know that you were relying on somebody else to save your ass. You knew that Ghost would be there in half the time that it probably should’ve taken him, but when you’re dying, the minutes feel like eternity.

This wasn’t the first time that you had been in situations like this. Everybody had their fair shares of “I almost died” stories. But this was different for you. This was the closest you had ever been to not living to tell this story.

Panicking was most definitely not the way to handle this situation. Very rarely was panicking ever helpful in a dire, critical scenario like this. It was the most eerie feeling – literally feeling yourself dying. The blood loss was becoming less, but only because you were running out of blood to lose. Your heart was beating slower and slower by the second. Breathing was now a voluntary action. As the adrenaline wore off and the reality of the situation set in, your anxiety crept over you and infiltrated any room for collectedness that you had left.

“G-Ghost.” You sighed, a layer of tears pricking at the base of your lashes.

Ghost heard the near sob in your words, putting an even faster pep in his step.

“Almost there, Gecko. What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I’m scared.” You admitted, hot tears mixing with the fresh rain water on your cheeks.

Ghost’s heart shattered into a million pieces, catapulting into every vessel near it like the strongest of shrapnel. He couldn’t stand the thought of you alone and scared.

“I know. Just keep talking to me and Soap,” He breathed, trying to stay calm for you. “I’m coming, G.”

‘G’ was a nickname inside of a nickname. Ghost only used it sparingly, and it was usually when he was trying to be supportive or sympathetic without giving your secret romantic endeavor away.

It felt silly to say. Generally speaking, you didn’t really have the right to be afraid. It was the pure passion for your job and your own willingness that put you in dangerous situations. It was your own free will, your own decision that you made the same choice on every single time. It was one thing to be scared when you ended up here accidentally. It was another when it was a consequence of your choices and actions. Courage and strength were supposed to be your strong suits. They were the characteristics that you were supposed to fall back on every time.

Yet here you were. Scared to death of dying – something that you had thought about and been preparing for since you started this gig.

“Simon, I-I…I don’t want to d-”

“It’s ‘cause I clean house quickly.” Soap’s voice echoed in one ear and out the other, suddenly and abruptly.

What?

Even in a near unconscious-like state, you were still well aware of how that needed some clarification.

“S-say again?” You stuttered, the corners of your vision beginning to go foggy.

“Soap. ‘Cause I clean house and buildings with speed ‘n accuracy,” Soap repeated. “That’s why they call me Soap.”

Soap!

It made so much sense. You were almost embarrassed that you didn’t think of that yourself. You knew it was Soap’s way of distracting you – keeping your mind off of dying.

“That’s a good one,” You nearly wheezed. “Thought it was because you were a bath man.”

“Thanks for that image. Won’t be able to unsee that one,” Ghost piped up. “Almost there, Gecko. Hang on for me, yeah?”

Ghost’s voice was strained as if he were running. Using every ounce of speed and stamina that he had to get you as fast as possible. He couldn’t lose you like this.

He refused to lose you like this.

“It’s because I’m quick on my feet, and because I can scale a building faster than anybody.” You croaked.

“Ah. That’s why they call you Gecko?” Soap chuckled, and you could hear the amusement in his words.

“Came up with that one myself.” Ghost smirked.

“Some people might even say geckos are kind of cute.” You joked, but didn’t quite have the energy to laugh.

“I’d agree with that,” Ghost countered, and you could sense Soap’s internal confusion from forever away. “I have a visual on Gecko. Almost at the church, Soap?”

“Affirmative, Lt. Meet you there.”

Sure enough, Ghost appeared from seemingly nowhere, like a sent guardian angel. Your vision had tunneled, so you couldn’t see much out of your peripherals. He had never seen you so weak and close to going out on him. His eyes behind the mask were wide and dark, focused on getting you out alive.

“Nice to see you, Lieutenant.” You shivered.

“Glad you’re not a goner,” He returned, removing the glove from his right hand and pressing his fingers against your cheek. “Shit. You’re freezing.”

“How bad do I look?” You slurred, and you fought to keep your eyeballs from rolling back into your head.

“Probably not as bad as you feel. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Ghost said, working quickly to get himself arranged to carry you.

“Did you see any Shadows on the way?” You gulped, eyelids beginning to flutter.

“They’re everywhere. We need to get going,” Ghost scooped you up effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing and weren’t dripping wet through multiple layers. “C’mon, love. Let’s get you out of here.”

The journey from the ground to up into Ghost’s arms felt like an airplane takeoff. You were close to slipping out of consciousness.

“We’ll get to Soap and get a vehicle out of here,” Ghost explained, readjusting his arm underneath your knees. “You’re going to be fine, Gecko.”

“G-Guess I wasn’t quick enough this time, huh?” You gave the faintest grin, and Ghost couldn’t help but laugh at your stupid joke.

“Shut up.”

There was relief in knowing that you were with Ghost. Your chances of dying hadn’t changed, but if you were going to die, this was a better way of going out.

The fog in your vision became thicker and thicker until you couldn’t see or hear a thing. The darkness surrounded you, sucking you deeper and deeper into nothingness.

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

The next time your eyes opened, you weren’t met with the dim streets of Las Almas. There was no smell of rain or taste of blood and sweat. The smell this time was sterile air and cheap (but clean) bedsheets. You couldn’t taste anything due to the worst case of cottonmouth that you had ever experienced. The beeping music of an EKG reader and distant chatter was the real giveaway.

The muscles in your legs were stiff, mainly because you hadn’t moved them in so long. A grunt was all you could manage as you shifted, a new type of discomfort erupting where you had been shot. It was all wrapped up now (professionally and medically wrapped), clean and taken care of. There was an IV in each arm, one administering fluids and the other what you could only imagine to be some kind of pain medication. The white walls and tan floors were weirdly comforting…a sign to let you know that you were safe for now.

The best sights of all were the ones seated to the left of your bed.

Ghost’s arms were crossed, ankles crossed over each other, and his head lowered and his breathing steady. His outer skull mask was nowhere to be seen, but his balaclava was clinging to his face as always.

Soap was also snoozing, but less peacefully and quietly. His head was tilted back as far as it possibly could go, his arms draped at his sides, legs stretched all the way out, and snoring so loud that you were surprised you hadn’t already heard it.

You were gentle as you called to Ghost, considering he didn’t always react calmly when being woken up.

“Hey…” You rasped with a dry throat. “Ghost.”

His eyes snapped open, flickering up to you instantly. A monumental wave of relief visibly crashed over him, filling his veins and relaxing his heart.

“You’re awake,” He leaned closer, taking your hand into his. “You’re okay.”

“What…how long has it been?” You asked, bits of your memory coming back to you.

“A few days…four I think, ” He answered with a nod. “How do you feel?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure. Physically you felt terrible, but better than when you were dying of shock, cold, and blood loss. Mentally you felt fuzzy and groggy from being out so long. Emotionally…well, only time would tell.

“Like shit.” You admitted.

“Not surprised.” He grinned under his face covering.

There were a few beats of silence. You took a few glances around, getting familiar with your new setting. Ghost, though, never took his eyes off of you. They were a light shade of red, and even his balaclava couldn’t hide the dark circles under them.

“Have you slept at all?” You asked, knowing good and well he hadn’t left your side.

“A little bit here and there,” He said, motioning his free hand towards Soap. “This is the most sleep Soap’s gotten this whole time. He’s been out for about 30 minutes.”

Soap was indeed out like a light. You couldn’t imagine how tired the two of them were. There was another stretch of silence. This one lasted longer and was much more tense. This wasn’t an easy encounter. How were you supposed to act when you had barely scraped by with your life?

“Simon?”

“Yeah, love?”

“How close was it?”

Simon stared for a moment. No formation of an answer to your question occurred for a second or two. He didn’t like that question. He had avoided thinking about it until now. Ghost knew that he’d have to do his own mentality check in with himself in a few days. He had almost lost the most important person in his life…he’d need to deal with that.

“Too close.”

Another silence. Another silent thank you that you were here to see another day.

“You were…hypothermic, in shock. You lost a lot of blood before and during surgery,” He said. “Doc said if it had been any later getting you help-”

“Hey,” A groggy voice piped in, unaware that he was interrupting. “Gecko’s up.”

Soap’s eyes were just as bloodshot as Ghost’s, but Soap’s personality was wide awake.

“Happy to see you again, Sergeant. My apologies for being absent from our reunion at the church.” You grinned.

“Yeah, yeah. Left us to do double the work,” Soap chuckled. “Feels weird callin’ you Gecko now that I know where it comes from.”

“Soap doesn’t have the same ring to it, I have to say.” You fired back.

“Agh, I’m crushed. Right in my pride!” He shrieked.

The three of you shared a soft laugh. Nothing like Soap’s comedic relief to break the tension. You felt okay. This was just one of those things. One of the things that you signed up for with this job. It didn’t make it any less unnerving, but now you felt like you could really move on from this.

And you were thankful that you had lived to tell the story.

There was a sudden itch in your throat. An annoying tickle that reminded you that you hadn’t had a physical sip of water in four days.

“Do you think that I could get some water?” You wondered aloud, nearly choking on your own words from the parched feeling.

Ghost hadn’t left your side when you were knocked out, and he surely wasn’t leaving now that you were awake.

“Johnny, could you-”

“Yep! On it.” He scurried out and down the hall without another word.

That left you and Ghost. The man that saved your life by risking his own to come back for you. You didn’t even want to think about what you would’ve done if Ghost had gotten killed at your expense. At least you would’ve died together, but that hardly sounded right or fair. Ghost deserved so much more.

“You scared me.” Ghost confessed, not even hiding the worry in his voice.

“I know…I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, doll. Just…” He sighed. “Just really thought that I had lost you this time.”

There wasn’t anything you could say to make him feel better. You knew that because you had been in his shoes. His head wasn’t in the best place. You knew that even better. But if there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that you loved him more than anybody else ever could.

“Thanks for coming back for me.” You whispered, a sudden set of tears slipping down your cheeks.

Ghost raised his balaclava. The material stopped just under his nose, his bare lips coming to press a kiss to the back of your hand. He made a solemn swear to himself in that moment that he’d never take you for granted again. He’d never get too comfortable with having you around and at his disposal.

Because fate was far too cruel for that.

“Always.”

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stealingyourbones · 2 months

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Submitted Prompts #165

Danny, now a junior in high school and residing in Gotham, needs a little extra cash to make ends meet each month. (There’s only so many burgers he can stab on instinct before he gets fired and banned from every Bat Burger in the city. Growing up with animated food does that to you.)

The opportunity to get a new job arises when Danny is mistaken for Damian Wayne, and is dragged along by one of Damian’s brothers for a vigilante adventure through the night after an Arkham breakout. Danny, the nerd that he is, is an avid Batfamily fan and can copy Robin’s fighting style perfectly. It’s only when he opens his mouth to speak and taunt villains do the Bats realize that Damian is on the other side of town, also dressed as Robin, kicking ass by himself with no backup, and that they just put a civilian in the line of fire.

By the end of it, Danny is offered a job to be Damian Wayne’s body double; both as his civilian self and as another Robin when Damian is needed elsewhere. He’s thrilled about it, and proceeds to copy Damian’s mannerisms so perfectly the Bats have to check to make sure he’s not another clone.

(He’s not, Danny is just an idiot who is using his ghost abilities to help with his acting. Completely oblivious to the growing paranoia of the Bats.)

#dpxdc #bones submissions

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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Untouchable VI - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: Smut (minors dni pls), angst

a/n: Once again, thank you for all the love you've given me on this series!! Your comments seriously make my day! Hope you enjoy this one! I think there will be maybe 9-10 parts total for this story, maybe 8 but we'll see. Thanks for reading! <3

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part VI

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that—knelt on the hardwood floor, staring at each other. Azriel’s eyes were filled with such longing, it seemed like he was trying to will the mating bond to snap between the two of you, to free you both from the torture of his bargain. But…

Nothing.

A small tear escaped from the corner of your eye. All this time you had both longed for each other. Desired, craved, hungered after each other. And it had been your own brother standing in the way, creating the rift between the two of you.

One of Azriel’s shadows swirled away from him, a small tendril of darkness, and brushed against the side of your cheek, wiping your tears away. You smiled sadly at the cool touch of his shadows, imagining it was his own hand instead.

Another tendril brushed against your arm in a soothing motion.

You watched them for a moment, swirling around your skin. When you looked back up at Azriel something in his gaze had shifted.

He stood finally, holding out a hand to help you from the floor. You raised your eyebrows in question as he stared down at you with an intensity that had your cheeks turning pink again.

The stray shadow brushed against your cheek again, then down your jaw to your throat. You shivered at the feeling and Azriel’s gaze darkened, a new hunger in them that had the butterflies in your stomach returning.

Azriel stepped closer and wrapped a piece of your hair around his finger. “I just realized something.”

“What is it?” you breathed out.

His face was half lit by the faelights as he stared down at you, still playing with your strand of hair.

“I might not be able to touch you,” he whispered. “But my shadows can.”

“Huh? What do—”

Azriel hushed you, turning you around to face the mirror on your vanity instead. You stared at him through the mirror in question, but his eyes were roaming your body instead.

He brushed your hair over to one shoulder and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the now exposed skin before standing up to his full height, making you feel so small in comparison.

His eyes met your own and your heart jumped in your chest. Azriel’s hand ghosted up your arm, hovering over your shoulder as he stared at you intently as he ran a finger under the thin strap of your nightgown. Your skin prickled under his touch.

His pupils were blown-out, his once hazel eyes now almost black, as he stared at you with a look that had your thighs clenching together.

Your breath hitched as he began to push down the strap of your nightgown.

"A-Azriel?"

You tilted your head back to look at him but he grabbed your chin with his other hand and directed your attention back to the mirror.

"Watch," he commanded, his voice dangerously low.

It was a thrilling sight, the two of you together. The dimmed faelights in the room bounced off his brown skin, turning him golden and made your violet eyes glow.

He was the neverending night, the shadow always lurking even during the day, the embodiment of the dark side of the moon. And you were his night-blooming flower, made for his gaze.

A shiver ran through you as the strap fell down your arm. The other one followed not even a second later. The silk of your nightgown brushed against the pebbled tips of your breasts before it pooled on the ground, leaving you nearly bare in front of the shadowsinger.

Azriel let out an inhuman growl at the sight of your breasts, his hands fisting at his sides as you watched him restrain himself from touching you. Heat was pooling in your core. You needed him to touch you, needed some relief from the pounding inside of you that begged for him.

Azriel's shadows cascaded over your shoulders, one swirling away to brush against your jaw, as the others made a path to your bare breasts. Your breath hitched, your back arched, as they lightly brushed against your skin, twirling around each nipple.

You gasped as some broke away to travel down your stomach, to circle around your thighs. The shadows applied more pressure to your breasts and you bit your lip, closing your eyes as you tried to imagine Azriel touching you instead.

Azriel's hand wrapped around your waist, laying flat against your stomach as he yanked you back into his hard chest. You could feel his arousal pressing against your ass causing your heart to spike.

"I told you to watch, Princess,” he purred into your ear.

You whimpered, your eyes flying open to stare at him through the mirror before they lowered to your own body, watching as his shadows spun around you, touching you in the places he had been forbidden to.

A stray shadow stroked against your clothed center, drawing a moan from your lips. Your legs were shaking now, goosebumps covering your skin. You couldn't help but rub against his hardened length, whimpering again.

Azriel let out a grunt that sounded like a mixture of both pleasure and pain, his fingers digging into the skin on your stomach. His hand slipped down to finger the waistband of your lace underwear. He made eye contact with you again. You bit your lip and nodded, knowing what he was asking.

He slowly began to push your underwear down your thighs until it fell to the floor along with your nightgown, leaving you completely naked in front of him. Azriel groaned at the sight.

“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured. Your cheeks heated as he hungrily soaked in the sight of your naked body, feeling vulnerable being so bare in front of him while he was still clothed.

His shadows swooped in the moment you were unclothed, their cool touch sending fire roaring through your veins. Your chest was heaving up and down with your heavy breaths, the butterflies in your stomach going wild.

"Azriel," you begged. "Please."

You weren't even sure what you were begging for. But gods, you needed him. Needing him to do something about the ache between your legs, the burning hot desire coursing through you.

“Please what, Princess?”

His voice made another shiver run through your body. So dark and sensual, just like the shadows roaming over your entire body.

Tendrils of his shadows crawled up your legs, brushing against your pulsing core and causing you to gasp as a wave of pleasure hit you.

“I need…” Another gasp as his shadow brushed against your clit. “Gods, Azriel, I need…”

You couldn’t even put it into words, your mind empty because of the pulsating feeling creeping inside of you.

Azriel’s fingers ghosted over your cheek. “I know, princess.”

You moaned as his shadows continued their assault, stroking your core, circling around that sweet bundle of nerves. You trembled beneath their touch.

He pressed another kiss to your bare shoulder before lifting you into his arms and taking you to the bed. He laid you down gently, so softly as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

He stood at the end of the bed, his eyes raking in the sight of you flushed with pleasure and laid bare before him. “Gods, what I wouldn’t give to touch you right now,” Azriel mumbled.

You wished more than anything that he could. You needed him.

More shadows cascaded down his body and fluttered to you, encasing you in swirls of darkness. Your arms were yanked above your head, your wrists pinned down to the mattress by his shadows. You whimpered as his shadows swept over your breasts again, your stomach, your thighs.

Azriel reached forward to spread your legs apart, a groan leaving his lips at the sight of your glistening center. His hands left you far too quickly and you bit your lip, staring at him. His wings were spread wide, his hair tousled against his forehead, his gaze dark. He was straining against his pants, his own hand palming his dick to ease the pressure.

His shadows skimmed your thighs and hip bones until they met together at your core, stroking against your clit and your entrance. You writhed, still encased by his other shadows, and mewled at the touch of his shadow hands.

“Fuck, Princess,” Azriel growled as he watched the shadows he controlled continue their assault on you. He quickly undid the ties to his pants, pushing them down and pulling his dick free and standing between your legs. He stroked himself as he watched his shadows ravish your body.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sight of how large he was, at the image in your mind of him fucking you.

“Keep your eyes open,” Azriel ordered, his voice filled with a dominance that only further increased the fire inside of you. “I want you to look at me while I make you cry.”

Your eyes shot open, meeting his feral gaze. You groaned at the sight of him touching himself to the image of his shadows ravaging your body. The pleasure was almost unbearable and you could feel your orgasm building quickly as his shadows swirled around your clit, teased your entrance, over and over again.

“Faster,” he commanded his shadows, who were all too happy to oblige, as he fisted his cock.

Your eyes trailed over Azriel, over his beautiful, devastating face, the muscles in his arms clenching as he stroked himself, his huge wings twitching. He looked like a fallen angel standing before you as he used his shadows to push you further and further to the edge.

“You couldn’t even imagine the things I wish to do to you, Princess,” he groaned as you continued to wither on the bed, moaning in a pool of his shadows. “How I would ruin you, make you forget your own name.”

“Azriel,” you mewled. “Please, I…don’t stop.”

You arched off the bed. Your skin was on fire. Each stroke of his shadows over your breasts, thighs, down your center, around your clit. It was too much. You were falling.

“Fuck. That’s it, Princess,” he grunted, his own hand moving faster. “Let my shadows make you come for me.”

His words pushed you over the edge, your vision nearly going white, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through your body. You mumbled his name over and over again as lightning shot through your body. Your back arched off the bed, your arms strained against the shadows holding you down.

And then you went limp, panting as you came down from your high. Azriel was cursing under his breath, stroking himself faster and faster, his gaze on your dripping core. You sat up, still breathing heavily. You wanted nothing more than to touch him, to make him come. But you couldn’t. Not without causing him pain.

But you had your own arsenal of powers, you realized.

“Close your eyes, Azriel,” you purred. He met your gaze, the absolute longing in his eyes caused your heart to ache. He did as you said and you closed your own, stroking a claw made of darkness against his mental barrier.

He let you in without hesitation.

You couldn’t touch him in the real world. But here, through the connection in your minds…

You painted him a beautiful picture of you on your knees before him, staring up at him through your lashes as he continued to stroke himself. You licked your lips before replacing his hands with your own. He let out a loud groan, causing you to smile.

You slowly leaned forward until your lips brushed against his tip. You stuck your tongue out, swirling around the head of his dick. He cursed at the image you were putting in his head, his hand moving faster and faster.

You opened your mouth and took him in as far as you could, gagging as his tip touched the back of his throat. You started to bob your head, still looking at him through your lashes as you sucked him off. You showed him gripping your hair with his hands and pushing your head to meet his thrusts, fucking your face, as tears pooled in your eyes.

He had already been so turned on watching his shadows destroy you that he knew he wouldn’t last long.

Just as you felt him drawing closer and closer to the edge, his moans increasing, his thrusts becoming sloppy with no rhythm, you left his mind. His eyes shot open and he cursed at the sight of you kneeling on the bed before him.

He released an unholy moan, chanting your name, as he came. His hot seed shot all over your chest, marking you with his essence.

You watched him ride out his orgasm until his hands slowed down and fell limp at his sides. You magicked yourself clean before rising. Azriel let out another curse, still panting, as he rested his forehead against yours.

You both were silent for a moment, soaking in the tender aftermath of what had undoubtedly changed the relationship between the two of you forever.

“The things I wish to do to you right now, Princess” he grunted, chest still heaving. “If…if only I could touch you.”

“I will find a way to break this bargain, Azriel,” you breathed out. “I will. This can’t be it for us. I..I refuse.”

You would read every single book in the library under the house of wind if you had to. The King of Hybern had been able to break your brother’s bargain with Feyre. There had to be other instances of bargains being broken.

“We can’t… we can’t tell your brother about this,” Azriel muttered. “If he were to find out, he’d send me away from you.”

You wanted nothing more than to march to your brother’s office and rip him a new one. But that still wouldn’t break the bargain. And depending on how irrational Rhys was, it might just make things worse. Azriel was right, he might send him away.

“We keep it a secret for now,” you agreed. “No one has to know.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Azriel mumbled. “I should’ve never done this to us.”

“It’s not your fault, Azriel. How could you have known?”

“I should’ve known. Even then, my feelings towards you were so consuming. I should’ve known they’d never go away. I don’t care if we’re not mates. I love you. I always have and I always will, even if we cannot be together. Even if I must go the rest of my life without laying a single hand on you.”

Your heart broke at his declaration and confession. You sighed, closing your eyes.

“I love you too, Azriel. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

He nodded, finally pulling away but you reached for his hand. “Stay, please?”

“Always,” he murmured back.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Prince Cedric pulled you aside the next morning after breakfast as his servants were gathering your luggage. He had asked for a quick moment alone and despite Azriel’s disagreement, you sent him away. Still he stayed within eyesight.

“So, I’m sure your brother has informed you of my true intentions towards you, Princess,” Cedric said with a soft smile on his face.

“He has,” you answered, quietly. You had been dreading this moment since you came.

“Have you made a decision yet?”

You genuinely felt bad for the Prince. He had been nothing but kind to you since you had known him. Had treated you well your entire stay. But none of it was ever going to matter. Your heart laid with Azriel and Azriel alone.

“Prince Cedric,” you started, then paused trying to find a way to word your answer politely. “I do appreciate how kind you have treated me these last few days but you must understand, it is a big decision to make. To leave my family and live so far away—”

“It’s okay, Princess. You don’t need to make any excuses. I’m not blind nor dumb. Just perhaps a tad bit too hopeful.”

“What—”

“It’s the shadowsinger, right?” he said with a sad smile. “He’s the one who’s truly won over your heart, hasn’t he?”

You stumbled over your words, eyes widening. Had it been so obvious? You had tried very hard this morning to scrub yourself clean of his scent.

“It’s okay,” he continued quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “Your secret is safe with me though I do feel a bit of jealousy towards him, I must admit. You would’ve made a beautiful queen.”

“Cedric, I-I don’t want you to think I’ve led you on. I did want to get to know you, to see if we had a connection. But—”

“But the heart wants what the heart wants. I understand, y/n. I would not want to take a wife who longs for another anyway.”

You bowed your head, still feeling a bit guilty.

“I did truly enjoy my time here, Cedric. I will look back on it fondly, despite how it turned out.”

“Me too, Princess,” he replied with a smile. “My castle doors will always be open for you, even as a friend.”

“Thank you, Cedric,” you smiled. “I hope you will still consider an alliance with my brother.”

“I will be in touch,” he confirmed with a nod of his head.

You said your goodbyes after that before it was finally time to return home, back to the Night Court.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few weeks went by. You scourged the library for any books that talked about bargains and bonds, exhausting yourself with your research. Azriel helped when he could, though he wasn’t always around, so as to not draw attention to what the two of you were doing.

You couldn’t help but give your brother a bit of a cold shoulder. You felt betrayed by him. You had always known he was protective, but this had crossed the line. You spent more nights at the Moonstone Palace, claiming you had work to do regarding the Court of Nightmares, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

It made being with Azriel easier. Each night he snuck into your room and left before the sun came up, just in case anyone decided to drop by. A rose was always resting on your bedside table in lieu of his presence when you’d wake up alone.

But it was hard even being together. It was agony to barely be able to touch each other, for Azriel to have to endure pain for as long as he could just to kiss you or to stroke your cheek. Your daemati powers and his shadows had been useful but it was nothing like being able to truly touch each other.

You were not going to give up. You would find a way to break the bargain. You had promised after all.

But part of you began to doubt how long this could go on. Would Azriel grow tired of only ever using his shadows with you? Would he resent you? So many questions like that swarmed your head despite Azriel trying to assure you that he only wanted you.

Hiding your relationship didn’t help with that either. Elain was still enamored with Azriel, still followed him around like a lost puppy dog. You had to clench your fist every time you were in a room with the two of them despite Azriel not reciprocating her feelings or entertaining them.

That didn’t stop her from constantly sitting near him, resting her hands on him, batting her eyelashes in his direction. It caused something vile to coil in your stomach every time you had to watch her brush her fingers against his, rest a hand on his arm.

It was just a reminder that you couldn’t do that. That every touch you gave him resulted in pain.

And that part of you that was insecure wondered if Azriel would eventually give in to her. After all, he could touch her, feel her, do whatever he wanted with her…unlike you.

Elain could make him feel pleasure without the curse of pain being attached. She could touch him, fuck him, do all sorts of things to him. Things you couldn’t.

How long could he truly go without the touch of another? What if the bargain could never be broken?

You let out a sigh, dropping your head against the book you were currently reading about bargains. So far, nothing had been useful and you just wanted to scream and scream.

“You should take a break.”

You jumped, surprised at the sudden voice in the room. You lifted your head to see Azriel leaning against the doorframe that led out to your balcony. Behind him came the noise of music and laughter as dusk was falling and the people of Velaris were coming alive into the night.

“I still haven’t been able to find anything about breaking bargains. You’d think it would be a more popular subject.”

Azriel strided towards you until he was next to where you sat in your chair at your desk.

“It is a taboo topic,” Azriel replied. “Bargains are magic bound by the Cauldron. Breaking them goes against the Mother, or so it’s thought.”

“Being able to make them in the first place seems to be against the Mother,” you mumbled under your breath. Because how could a stupid bargain be keeping you from being with the one you loved? That didn’t seem very divine.

Azriel grabbed your chair and twisted it so you faced him, moving you as if you weighed nothing. You let out a small noise of surprise.

Azriel kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. “Just take a break, Princess. You’ve been at it for so long today. You’re going to drive yourself mad.”

You let out a huff before a feline grin spread across your face.

“I suppose you might be able to convince me to take a break,” you purred, looking up at him through your lashes.

You stroked a claw against his mental shields and showed him a pretty image of you bent over the desk while he took you from behind.

Azriel’s gaze instantly darkened as he groaned, his shadows swimming around him like they were already anticipating being used. He smirked, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I can do more than convince you, Princess.”

Azriel balanced himself with his hands on the back of your chair and leaned down to kiss you on your lips causing butterflies to erupt inside your stomach.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your chest already heaving as his lips met yours.

A knock against your door had the two of you flying apart. Your eyes widened as you stared at Azriel.

“Dove, it’s me.”

You mouthed a curse at the sound of your brother’s voice. The door started to creak open.

“Hide,” you whispered to Azriel.

He was already sinking into his shadows just as the door to your room flew open. Your heart was still pounding as your brother strode in, his eyes falling on you. He raised an eyebrow.

“Was someone else in here just now? I could’ve sworn I heard another voice.”

“And I could’ve sworn I locked my door,” you grumbled, smoothing your hair down.

His eyes darted around the room and his nostrils flared. You saw the immediate realization as he recognized Azriel’s scent.

“Azriel was here just a minute ago,” you hastily answered. “He was dropping off some books for me.”

“Books? What for?”

As he walked closer, you slammed the book on your desk shut, not wanting him to see the section you had been reading.

“Just some stuff I’m doing research on to do with Hewn City.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything else about it thankfully.

“Well, tell Azriel the next time he drops something off for you, he can come through the front door,” your brother said, crossing his arms over his chest.

You bristled at his tone, the hidden frustrations you had with him breaking through for a second as you snapped back, “What does it matter?”

“It matters because I needed to discuss something with him and it would’ve been nice to know he had dropped by.” Rhys gave you a look, one you knew all too well.

Rhys’s eyes roamed over you, then darted around your room again. “Does Azriel make it a habit coming into your room at night?”

“No,” you answered quickly. “You’re the one who made him my personal guard. I don’t need a guard in Velaris so he helps me in other ways, like fetching books from the library for me.”

“Fine. Well if Azriel decides to come around again, send him to my office.”

You only nodded in response, trying to hide your anger. You had to play this game for now. You wouldn’t ruin what little you and Azriel had. “Is there a reason you barged into my room?”

“We’re working on a new trade deal with Thesan and I need an update on how much iron they’re mining on average each month in the Court of Nightmares.”

“Alright, I’ll work on a report for you and Feyre. Is that all?”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “So eager to get rid of me, dove? What’s gotten into you lately?”

“Nothing.”

Rhys waited for you to keep speaking but you refused. You were still so angry with him and you knew if you kept talking, there was a chance it’d all spill out.

“Nothing? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, Rhys? There’s nothing wrong.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been acting strange for a few weeks now. What’s going on with you?”

“Like I said, nothing. I’ve just been busy. I did ask for more responsibility, after all.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back in your chair, trying to give off a casual demeanor.

“Being busy doesn’t account for your snappy mood.”

You scoffed. “Well, maybe I’m just tired of you hovering over my shoulder all the time! Gods forbid you let me handle things on my own once in a while.”

Rhys took a step back as your words hit him. You expected anger but we’re shocked to see a bit of guilt and sadness cloud his face. “Okay, okay. I know I’ve been overbearing. I’m sorry, dove, I just…it’s hard not to see you as the little girl I took care of all those years.”

You sighed, not expecting this. Perhaps you had been right when you told Azriel that the two of you should go to Rhys. Maybe he would be open to helping you both try to find a way to break the bond…maybe it was a mistake to hide it from him.

“I know, Rhysie, I just…I want to feel like I’ve done something important on my own for once, alright?”

“Okay,” Rhys said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll leave you alone.”

He made to leave finally and you let out a small breath of relief.

“Oh, and we’re having a family dinner tomorrow night at the House of Wind. Helion will be attending as well so wear something nice,” Rhys said, moving back towards your door.

“Alright, I will,” you answered, wanting him to just go already.

He paused with his hand on your doorknob, looking back at you for a moment. “I love you, little dove. I know you said nothing is wrong but I hope you know you can come to me about anything. I will always help you in any way I can.”

“I know, Rhysie. I love you too.”

He nodded, seeming satisfied for the moment and left finally, closing the door shut behind him. You flicked a wrist to lock it with magic, as well as put a shield around the room.

A smile overcame your face as Azriel stepped out of the shadows. You were worried that your brother had killed his mood, would send him running but thankfully, Rhys hadn’t seemed to deter him at all. In fact, the thrill of it all seemed to only spur him on more.

He strided to you and locked you in a passionate kiss that had you gasping, his tongue immediately claiming your mouth.

When he pulled back to look at you, he was grinning wolfishly. “So, where were we?”

You giggled as he lifted you off your chair and sat you down on your desk. You looped your arms around his neck, carefully to touch him as minimally as you could. “I believe you were about to convince me to take a break with you.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“I told you. I couldn’t get her alone. That fucking shadowsinger wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Though now I know it’s because he’s fucking her.”

“I don’t care for your excuses, Princeling. I told you to bring me the girl. That was our deal.”

“What’s so special about her anyways? Certainly there’s something else I can do for you, something else you need.”

The other male studied the Prince for a moment until the younger male seemed to cringe under his stare, slight fear in his eyes.

“If you must know, the moment she stepped foot on these lands I felt the spike of power coming from her and I knew I had to add her to my collection. You want my help overthrowing the King, you bring me that girl.”

The prince sighed, frustrated. “And how do you suppose I do that? She’s being watched like a hawk by both her brother and the shadowsinger.”

“That’s your problem to figure out. You have your own magic, no? Time to get clever, Princeling. My patience is running out.”

Prince Cedric clenched his jaw but nodded, knowing it wise to not argue with the sorcerer.

Koschei gave him one last look before retreating into the shadows leaving the Prince standing alone at the shore of his lake.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: sooooo, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! hahah What do we think the prince is gonna do to kidnap our girlieee? and do you think she should tell Rhys what's going on with Azriel? Do we think her brother has regrets about making that bargain and would actually try to help them break the bond? hmmm who could possibly know

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pseudowho · 5 days

Text

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Higuruma Hiromi glory-hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, feral smut and falling in love with a stranger.

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You knew him only as the man in the black and white suit. You had only seen the briefest glimpse of his clothes through your glory hole, after all.

"I don't normally-- I've never done this before...not that kind of guy--" he apologised, on the other side of the wall. His voice was smooth, deep and kind. You felt a little bubble of affection in your belly already.

"...well...I'm not that kind of girl," you teased, peeking a single come hither beckoning finger out of the glory hole, inviting him to your mouth, "...but something's got to pay the bills."

You heard the man's breath hitch, a shudder. You heard him unzip himself, and you settled on your knees, wiggling in anticipation. Waiting for a job to come up in a legal office was long...and while this wasn't the best use of your Law degree, you couldn't help but feel the thrill of doing something so sordid.

A cock, only half-hard and uncertain, but still so long, thick and pink-tipped beneath his silky foreskin, was eased gently through the hole. His voice sounded worried for you on the other side, and you pressed your fingers over your mouth, suppressing a smile.

"I'm...I'm not sure-- are you...are you sure?" The man in the suit stuttered. You leaned forwards, ghosting your lips over his cockhead, and the man gasped and moaned, a little trickle of salty pre-cum wetting your lips;

"Shhhh...you sound stressed," you cooed, "and I enjoy this, too. So let's have some fun." You held his length in your hand, and were satisfied to hear him whine and tremble, the dull knock of his hands and a knee pressing against the other wall. His cock swelled in your hand, twitching, and you rolled your thumb over his wet cockhead beneath the stretching hood of his foreskin.

"--so-- so stressed," he whined, pleading and begging you, "...you don't even... don't even know how bad...how bad my week has been..." His moans fractured as you began to pump his cock with your hand, from ball to tip, and he rutted forwards into your fist, "...haven't cum...can't remember the last time...so long...haaaah fuck, perfect, pleasepleaseplease, feels so good..."

"Yeah?" You whispered, bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed as you drank down his little moans and gasps, purring at him, "Does that feel good? You sound desperate, baby. I bet you work so hard."

He whimpered into the affection; "--g-god yeah...feels amazing...your hand, fuck-- work so hard, s--so so hard...not got...don't have...have anyone, shit-- ohhhh-hhhhh--hh not gonna...not gonna last..."

You felt his cum-tight balls as you reached through, pulling them gently through the hole to massage them at the base of his cock. Your man cried out, all strained whimpers and cursing, and you heard his fingernails scrape against the other side of the wall; "Tell me what you want, beautiful stressed boy...how can I help you?"

"--spit--spit on my cock pleasepleaseplease in your mouth, pl--" He broke off into delirious shudders to feel your hot little mouth slick tightly around his cockhead, squeezing your lips into a tight ring, and using them to push his foreskin down as you sucked him into your mouth. With your tongue cupping his length while you sucked, bobbing your mouth around him, smooth and tasting his little spurts of pre-cum, his moans shot straight through you.

You hadn't felt as aroused as this, pleasuring a client before, but something about his frantic, begging desperation set your clit throbbing. Your hand drifted lazily between your legs, slipping between your glossy wet folds, rolling your clit under two fingers. You moaned around his length, and he cried out, cock throbbing, close to the edge.

Pulling your mouth back, and jacking off his red, aching cock with your spit and fist, you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear; "You sound so pretty, you've even got me touching myself--"

That was the last straw; your man in the rumpled suit came with a bark, sandy curses and whimpers. You took him back into your mouth, feeling heavy pulses of seed spilling out onto your tongue, flooding your mouth-- it obviously had been a long time for him.

"--arrrrghh god yes, shit, thank you-- so perfect, fuck, thank you-- oh ffff--ffuuuck in your mouth too...you're too good-- don't deserve-- dont deserve you--...haaaah...ahhhhh..."

You heard the wall tremble as your man came down from his high. His ears ringing, he vaguely heard your swallow. A weak whimper left him, and you giggled as another spurt of cum dampened your lips. You licked him clean, leaving him shivering with overstimulation, before placing a sweet little kiss to his cockhead.

"...come see me again?"

"F-fuck yes, absolutely-- absolutely."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You had barely worked that week, lost in job-hunting, coming up empty-handed at every turn. It was five days before you made it back to the glory hole, happily receiving a generous payment, and wondering vaguely about your stressed, lonely man in the rumpled suit. You settled in your booth; it took him just a few minutes to find you.

"...is it...is it you?" He asked tentatively. You grinned, nudging yourself forwards on your knees, just out of eyesight behind the gloryhole. You blushed, shaking yourself off as being ridiculous.

"...do you mean me?" You offered. You heard his sigh of delight. He laughed, a deep, rich sound.

"I worried I'd scared you away," he teased. You heard him start to unzip himself, before hesitating, "Uhm...can we...?"

"Quick," you whispered conspiratorially, "put something in my mouth before I start talking at you." He laughed again, a sound that sent flutters of butterflies through your tummy. His cock, already rock-hard and glistening at the tip, was pressed through the hole. You reached through to cup his balls, softly bringing them through. He shuddered; he had clearly been hoping you'd cup his sensitive balls for him again.

"You like it when I do this...?" You teased, rolling his heavy balls in one palm. Hearing him groan, and sigh with relief into your touch, you leaned your cheek against the wall, admiring the weight of him in your hand as you massaged him.

"...I...never knew I did, but...you're so good at it...shit, feel like I could cum-- cum just from that--"

"Hush," you mocked him, just to hear his shaking laugh again, "you deserve so much more than that." Taking his cock into your mouth, determined to take him into your throat this time, you revelled in the dulcet tones of him falling apart inside your hot little mouth again. You swirled your tongue around his cockhead, swiping into his leaking slit, suckling, examining, measuring him with your throat.

Your stressed man bucked involuntarily to feel his blunt cockhead stroke the back of your throat, and you gagged, swallowing around him. He wasn't able to last long, feeling the sides of your throat stretch around his leaking cock.

"--haaa--aaahhhhh fuck'msosorry...feel s'good...like this...haaahh fuckkkk....do you...do you like to read?"

Your throat convulsed around his length, sputtering as you burst into laughter. Your rumpled man convulsed too, swearing and stuttering as his orgasm hit him like a bus. You tried to catch his cum in your hand and mouth, but knelt, still laughing, his seed dripping down your cheeks as he groaned, bucking forwards, cock bounding thick spatters of seed onto you.

"...do I like to read?" You laughed, masturbating him to bring him down from his high. He whimpered into your wall again, a sound which was gradually conditioning you, into pussy-aching wetness.

"...I'm sorry, I...I just...fucking ignore me, I'm an idiot, I just..."

You laughed again, the twinkling sound shooting through him like daggers.

"...just...wanted to get to know you," he mumbled, and you could hear the mortified little pout through the wall.

You couldn't wait to see your rumpled man again. You didn't know how you resisted looking through the hole at him as he walked away. You called after him, and heard his footsteps hesitate for a moment, before he snorted with mirth.

"I love to read!"

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"I want...to try something different this time. Please."

Your rumpled man sounded hoarse. His voice was tight, clipped. You could feel the stress pounding off him in waves, through your little window to him.

"...what would you like?" You answered, as if to a lover, not a client.

"Can you...can you come to the other window, instead?"

Ah...the gloryhole for fucking. A little flat bench where your ass, pussy and legs could lay, your body separated by a wall and curtain. Your eyelids fluttered to imagine the cock you knew well by now, stretching your pussy open, your mystery man clutching your thighs as he fucked into you. You imagined those desperate whimpers and moans for your cunt, instead of your mouth, and it made you throb.

"I mean...I don't normally..." you hesitated, feeling a twang of regret to disappoint him.

"No," he urged, sounding so fractious and desperate, "not that. I promise, not that. You...another time. Another way. I want...want to eat you out. Please."

You faltered again, arguing with him; "This is meant to be about you, not me, I'll take care of you--"

"Trust me," he begged, his palms flat on the wall now, "...this...this is what I need. I mean it. Please. Please."

God knew you couldn't resist his begging. You felt a trickle of arousal seep out of you, dampening your panties. The thought of that groaning mouth around your clit set you on fire.

"Well...alright then. If you insist." You moved round to the next window, and heard him follow, pacing and predatory. You shimmied out of your panties, swallowing thickly before you crept your ass and legs out of the window, down the table. When you settled, legs open, feeling so exposed, his palms held your thighs. You heard him curse under his breath.

"Fuck...you're beautiful." Your man said it so sincerely, in that lusty-low voice, that you blushed, your hands over your face as you lay on your back. You felt your thighs confidently lifted, draped over strong, broad shoulders. His voice was deep, hungry.

"...hope you've got something to hold onto, back there, my love."

Fuck, how you saw stars. You cried out in genuine bliss as he sunk his face between your folds. You tried climbing up desperately on your elbows to see him, but were woefully obscured by a black curtain. You could feel a powerful, prominent nose bridge nuzzling across your clit, that clever tongue plunging into your hole.

Those familiar groans, husky whispers and moans, were now muffled by your pussy. Your rumpled man was drinking the life out of you, making you twist and writhe, sucking your clit into his mouth with such force that you instinctively shied away up the couch. He gripped your thighs, yanking them back over his shoulders as you squeaked. He growled, sinking his prominent front teeth into the soft inner squish of your thighs.

"No. Get back here so I can fuck you with my mouth." You sobbed against the pleasure, your toes curling against the backs of his shoulders. Crying out as he shook his head from side-to-side with a rusty growl, you twitched and jerked, having never felt yourself dragged to orgasm so forcefully.

"Oh my fuc--fucking god, you're so good at that-- oh fuck don't stop-- don't stop don'tstopdon'tstoppleasepleaseplease--"

You didn't need to beg to make him continue. Already feeling on the edge of a savage high, you felt three long fingers, bunched together and lubricated with his own spit, plunge into your hole. A high, keening cry left you, and he found your soft spot immediately, fucking his fingertips against your belly.

"--thassit--fucking amazing...beautiful girl, c'mon...deserve the best, shit--"

One final suck of your clit into his mouth had you rolling over the edge. Silence rang from the other active booths around you, the clients and girls listening in awe as you moaned and whimpered your way through the most spectacular orgasm you'd ever felt. Your hands plunged past the curtain into his hair, tugging on it, thick and silky between your fingers.

Your rumpled man was groaning, whimpering, those familiar sounds you knew he only made when he came. Ths silence rang loudly through the booths, as you both came down from your highs.

One little voice from somewhere across the room; "...fucking hell." A few smattered laughs, and the slow sounds of others continuing their work of mouths and hands. You were dazed, lost on cloud nine, panting. Your hands came back to you, some inky black strands caught between your fingers. That familiar voice between your legs, so much less tense now.

"...so, uh...reckon I could get a job here? Do I pass the interview?"

You couldn't help how you laughed.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"...have you...do you see anyone else...apart from me?"

Why did you feel so guilty?

"I...I do, yeah. No regulars though. And nobody I actually enjoy, like...like you." It was true. Your goofy, stressed, rumpled man had ruined you for anyone else. You felt a jealous prickle from him on the other side of the wall.

"...I....do you have to keep doing this?" He pleaded with you.

"...well...can't find any legal secretary jobs, so--"

"Excuse me?"

You faltered. Had you said something wrong? You began to repeat yourself, but he interrupted you.

"All this time...I'm a-- I'm a lawyer," he choked out, and you ran cold, stunned. You laughed nervously.

"...so that's why you're so stressed." He laughed with you, swearing quietly to himself.

"I'm sure..." he offered, sly and sincere, "...I'm sure we could do with another legal secretary."

You knelt, stunned, your mouth dry and heart pounding in anticipation. You heard him speak again.

"Listen... how about you come out here, and say hello properly...and I take you out for dinner? No strings, no expectations, just...dinner."

You were silent. He begged.

"Please...I've got to see you. Please."

Trembling, pulling your clothes on, you acquiesced. Before stepping out from behind the back curtain, your shaking voice joked; "Well, you asked for it...drumroll please."

You laughed to hear him patter two hands rapidly on the wall. You stepped out.

Tall. Black-haired. Hooked-nosed. Hangdog-eyed. And, staring into you, as if you were a goddess made flesh. You had never felt so beautiful. He turned, and blushed, his hands cupping his mouth and nose as he looked towards the ceiling. He groaned, mortified at his past behaviour.

"...you never told me you were so lovely."

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dmitriene · 23 days

Text

cw: dark content, dubious consent, spanking, humiliation, thigh riding.

you were a proper brat, the one that town sheriff jonathan price couldn't stand at all, every outing you made to the town was leaving him with bulging veins all over his neck and forehead, jaw grinding harshly as his calloused hand stroked his mutton chops.

price just hadn't a single nerve for your antics, wandering around the town in the tight little shirts of your daddy that you sewed to fit your body, the slinkiest denim shorts that was possibly existing were hugging your rounded ass cheeks, soft flesh barely peaking beneath when you were bending against the shop's wooden counters.

you were john's menace, stealing for your own fun some fresh juicy fruits from some poor lad's shop, never paying and always giggling, charming his brains out of his head so he wouldn't notice your arm full of sweetest peaches.

wandering around john's office, twirling your ass all around and chatting with muppets that were sitting in jail cells, the same place you should be sitting at least couple of hours as well, but price doesn't have a strength to run after you, and his boys were failing on catching you as well.

you outrunned every one of them, from charmingly annoying scott, to the politely sunny man that was called kyle, and even the behemoth of a man that everyone was naming as a ghost, mostly because he gave up the first time you shoved your tongue at him and sprinted away by jumping through the gates.

your biggest fault was stealing something from sheriff himself, wandering to price's office while he was out for some deal as you wiggled yourself through the open window, just «a silly joke» on him for not letting you having your fun and reporting each movement you did to your daddy, but oh, you shouldn't have touched his things at all.

shouldn't turn his neatly organized office upside down, climb through his shelves and touch folders with important documents, as well as shouldn't open the jail cells and let out those who were sitting there for malicious mischief and other, similar to this one, things.

it really wasn't worth it to end up bent over a hard, muscular lap, with your tight little shorts dangling at your feet and cotton panties crumpled just enough to expose your rounded, soft rear to the silent room, where the only sound that resonates off the brick walls is loud, raw spanking slaps.

it's the first time in a long when john was that much furious, making his face go deep shade of red out of anger, fists tight and whitening at his sides when he opened the door to his office, catching you off guard in the middle of your antics, azure eyes darkening almost immediately as his fingers twitch and grasp at your hair, rippling out a loud, strained squeak off of your pretty lips.

you clearly didn't expect to see him, that john could tell, as well as end up half naked before his intense, burning gaze, a complete mess with your hands literally tied, now you couldn't run away from him, not when he finally caught you up.

maybe he enjoyed it too much, the thrill of having something that was constantly running from him made warmth bubble in his bulky body, like a game of cat and mouse, but finally you got exactly what you deserved, and john intended to feed it to you till the last spoon.

— “cocky, impudent little brat„ he all but barks and growls, making you shook not only from the stinging pain on your bulging ass cheeks, but also because of slightest fear that grip your body in its clutches, holding you unmovingly on john's thick thighs as you let out whimpers and tiny, ringing mewls.

tiny rope bites at your sore wrists, calloused palm slaps against your completely raw, reddened flesh with licking pain, your limbs feel absolutely putty, useless in your current state, with fat salty tears rolling against your fluttering eyelashes and down the flushed cheeks.

he smells of musk and gunpowder, sweat, scent with which he came back at least hour ago, and you knew that you're in for trouble, because he reeled of irritation.

all this situation was supposed to scare you away, make you beg for forgiveness, but you welcome each and every harsh slap with pooling wetness in the gusset of your cotton panties, the gentle lips of your pretty pussy visible just enough for john's gaze to catch on, and he straight on slows down.

the only thing that you register in your buzzing brain is harsh puffs that comes off his mouth, before dry ungloved fingers slide up against your folds, gathering the sticky, pooling mess, and you jolt, sobbing out a high gasp, which makes price huff out bewilderedly — “fuckin' hell, you're getting off to this, sweetheart? enjoying the humiliation?„

that makes your blood run incredibly hot, cheeks and ears burning up harder than the sensitive flesh of your perched ass, and you wiggle intuitively, pussy throbbing on itself and making you whimper, sincerely plaintively, cotton fabric sticking to your slicky folds, as you gather the courage to wobble out the small — “n-no„

but your body doesn't agree, you're aching, every limb feels as if it's itching and pulsing, you don't see how price bores his cerulean eyes into the slick gathered on his thick fingers, his own body rolling with waves of heat, clothes feels suddenly too tight for his own good, before he yanks your tied hands.

sudden movement makes you choke a squeak, rope still biting into the thin flesh of your wrists as he moves you to straddle his thighs, sitting securely, making your denim shorts slip off your legs completely and to the floor, as air in his messy office bites your sensitive ass cheeks, before there's another delivered, stinging slap.

you cry out, body jolting and pressing against his as you fall face first into his shoulder, inadvertently inhaling his cologne and hints of leather, his rough fingers knead your ass, calloused thumb rubbing strangely soothing circles that make your plush thighs squeeze together around his, desperate need for some kind of relief wells up hot and bothering, in your tummy and pulsing, currently neglected cunny.

price drinks up your every reaction like the most delicious whiskey, the labored breaths and the feel of how your pussy throbs, he can feel it all, together with hardening sensation in his boxers that makes his pants feel too tight beneath you, but it all will end up more than soon, cause his free hand moves to grip the back of your neck.

he's tugging, making your spine arch as your mound rubs against his leg just the right way, and he growls, head tilting to whisper out in your ear, his facial hair rubbing your skin harshly — “let's see how brave you are for real, darling? get off what's bothering you, and maybe.. maybe i'll consider to not telling your daddy what happened here today„

that makes you mewl so embarrassedly, nod your head silently into his muscular shoulder as your rounded hips roll cautiously, sudden pleasure sparks all through your shaking body as you still hide your face from him, but it doesn't matter, cause you're already signed the deal with sheriff jonathan price.

and no one in this town, if it's not the future dead man walking, will risk betraying the deal with him.

so you roll your hips rhythmically, letting your sopping pussy glide smoothly against his clothed thigh as your ass perches up, with his thick hand still caressing and kneading shamelessly, your strained, panting voice huffs out ashamed and delirious — “y-yes, sir„ which pulls a wide grin to his lips and a dark glint to his vivid eyes.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

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peachesofteal · 1 month

Text

Thinking-

about a Pacific Rim AU where Simon and Johnny are in love and together, but not drift compatible. They’re both right side pilots, stronger and more dominant over their left side counterparts, and in a Jaeger, they just don’t work.

It’s all well and good, until Simon’s co-pilot of almost five years is killed. All that work, all that time… wasted.

Simon could kill him himself, if some poor sod didn’t already do the job.

Their captain starts the process of finding a replacement, cranking through cadets in an attempt to find a very specific person, a very specific brain capable of completing a neural bridge with Simon, until they finally stumble upon you.

Johnny is thrilled. He reads your file, pours over your record, drinks up every detail available, all before ever laying eyes on you. He finds your social media, your hometown paper, education record, service record, the works. You’re a shiny, smart, capable yang to Simon’s yin. You’ll be perfect.

A perfect match, he thinks. Thank fucking Christ.

But…

Simon instantly dislikes you. You’re too bright, sunshine abrasive in the dark of his life. He’s dismissive and stand offish, irritated by the fact command did not allow him and Johnny to even try drifting again, instead choosing to place him with a complete stranger shipped to his doorstep from halfway around the world. He doesn’t want you crawling around in his brain. He doesn’t want his memories to become yours, and vice versa. He doesn’t want you in his- their life. He wants you to fuck off.

It beats you down. You weren’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t this. A co-pilot who can’t even look at you? Who dismisses you at every turn? It’s awful. You had heard stories about the Ghost, sure… but didn’t expect him to be so resistant to a new partner.

It’s so awful, you get pissed drunk one night. End up in a dark dive bar, licking your wounds and moaning to yourself about how all your training, all your work, is going to be for nothing. You’re going to fail. You’ll never pilot a Jaeger, because your co-pilot is too resistant, too controlling, won’t even try. It sucks.

So, okay. You have a little pity party. You try to drown your sorrows, and the guy next to you is very, very sympathetic. He listens to you cry about it, empathizes with your struggle and tries to commiserate with you.

It helps, of course, that he’s gorgeous. Blue eyes, golden like a god, long strands of mohawk perfectly framing his sheer bone structure.

“Dinnae worry, hen. ‘M sure he’ll come around. He’s just got to get to know ye s’more.” He coos, pressing a blazing hot thigh against yours with a wink. You lean a little bit into him, let him trace his fingertips down your spine, across your neck.

You’re so distracted, you don’t know the mass of a man wearing a mask, sitting in the shadows. Watching.

#this would be SO toxic #or wholesome tbh #depends on which direction it goes #pacific rim AU #ghoap x reader #peaches writes

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apoemaday · 2 months

Text

Eurydice

by Carol Ann Duffy

Girls, I was dead and down in the Underworld, a shade, a shadow of my former self, nowhen. It was a place where language stopped, a black full stop, a black hole Where the words had to come to an end. And end they did there, last words, famous or not. It suited me down to the ground.

So imagine me there, unavailable, out of this world, then picture my face in that place of Eternal Repose, in the one place you’d think a girl would be safe from the kind of a man who follows her round writing poems, hovers about while she reads them, calls her His Muse, and once sulked for a night and a day because she remarked on his weakness for abstract nouns. Just picture my face when I heard -- Ye Gods -- a familiar knock-knock at Death’s door.

Him. Big O. Larger than life. With his lyre and a poem to pitch, with me as the prize.

Things were different back then. For the men, verse-wise, Big O was the boy. Legendary. The blurb on the back of his books claimed that animals, aardvark to zebra, flocked to his side when he sang, fish leapt in their shoals at the sound of his voice, even the mute, sullen stones at his feet wept wee, silver tears.

Bollocks. (I’d done all the typing myself, I should know.) And given my time all over again, rest assured that I’d rather speak for myself than be Dearest, Beloved, Dark Lady, White Goddess etc., etc.

In fact girls, I’d rather be dead.

But the Gods are like publishers, usually male, and what you doubtless know of my tale is the deal.

Orpheus strutted his stuff.

The bloodless ghosts were in tears. Sisyphus sat on his rock for the first time in years. Tantalus was permitted a couple of beers. The woman in question could scarcely believe her ears.

Like it or not, I must follow him back to our life -- Eurydice, Orpheus’ wife -- to be trapped in his images, metaphors, similes, octaves and sextets, quatrains and couplets, elegies, limericks, villanelles, histories, myths…

He’d been told that he mustn’t look back or turn round, but walk steadily upwards, myself right behind him, out of the Underworld into the upper air that for me was the past. He’d been warned that one look would lose me for ever and ever.

So we walked, we walked. Nobody talked.

Girls, forget what you’ve read. It happened like this -- I did everything in my power to make him look back. What did I have to do, I said, to make him see we were through? I was dead. Deceased. I was Resting in Peace. Passé. Late. Past my sell-by date… I stretched out my hand to touch him once on the back of the neck. Please let me stay. But already the light had saddened from purple to grey.

It was an uphill schlep from death to life and with every step I willed him to turn. I was thinking of filching the poem out of his cloak, when inspiration finally struck. I stopped, thrilled. He was a yard in front. My voice shook when I spoke -- Orpheus, your poem’s a masterpiece. I’d love to hear it again…

He was smiling modestly, when he turned, when he turned and he looked at me.

What else? I noticed he hadn’t shaved. I waved once and was gone.

The dead are so talented. The living walk by the edge of a vast lake near, the wise, drowned silence of the dead.

#poetry #carol ann duffy #eurydice

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neoarchipelago · 9 months

Text

Cotton candy pacifier

A/N: Was this scheduled? No. Did I wrote it? Yes. I have a blank page problem right now and went out to an amusement park last weekend. My own hormones have made me fantasize and throw together this shit. Please have mercy on me at this point.

Warnings: (f! Reader x Simon) ADULT CONTENT. 18+ pregancy talk, breeding kink, cursing, p in v. Oral receiving. Slight blood, biting.

Simon never wanted to be a father. Too much baggage and trauma, too much fear of never having a good role model to be a good father. You had talked about it. You had long conversations. And even if you were understanding, accepted this fate, saying that he was all you could ever wish for, words hitting him like a mix of pain and pleasure, he saw the hint of sadness behind your eyes.

He had tried to be extremely soft, and passionate for months after those discussions, trying to show you how much he loved you.

So here he was. Black t-shirt tight around his torso, mask on and black cargo pants. Looking at the large group of recruits in front of him. Price Laswell and another higher up beside him as the last warnings were given.

Soldiers and their families had been offered a full day at an amusement park the military had privatized for the occasion.

As much as he tried to remain professional, his eyes often turned to you, pretty little excitement sprawled across your face, almost jumping in place. Jeans shorts and tank top with your little backpack, hair messily tied up. Soap was a menace next to you, already giving him a headache. But you were such a lovely sight.

When finally, the briefing was over and everyone made their merry way into the park, Price, Laswell and Ghost walked towards the group. Laswell joined her wife and so did Price, the two little munchkins jumping at the sight of their dad. You immediately rushed to Ghost's side as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Soap was practically bursting at the seams with excitement, gaz not too far behind causing Price's kids to be overexcited. Ghost sent them a warning look before everyone headed for the first attraction.

The morning went smoothly, Soap and Gaz betting on who would handle the worst roller coasters while Price and his wife indulged in some of them, as you accepted to look over the kids during the ride time. The kids were thrilled to simply spend time with their Uncle Ghost, sometimes joined by Soap and Gaz, for small carousels or mild roller coasters. The parents were thankful and indulged in some time without taking care of the kids too much.

It was what first started bugging him. The way you were happily cleaning up Kyle's chin as ice cream had dripped down. The look in your eyes made something burn in him. Or the way the little Lily munched on a few fries in your arms while you made sure her little hat was secured and her skin hadn't been too touched by the sun.

He didn't mind at all John's kids. He even liked spending time and taking care of them, feeling a sense of protectiveness over the small cute beings. He sometimes grumbled that Soap and Gaz were even harder to take care of than John's well behaved kids.

Something else bothered him. Not the little heart strings being pulled when he saw you smiled at him when he won two plushies for the kids. He was almost sure you looked at him with something between happiness, adoration and pure fucking need. He was almost taken aback by it but also by the way he absolutely adored seeing that look on your face. That same look that seemed to show up more and more through the day, as he held Kyle on his shoulders, or held Lily as she fed on her bottle.

But it vanished quite quickly. When another recruit whispered to you that the lieutenant seemed to be the perfect dad and you two would be amazing parents. He had heard. Of course he did. He was a trained soldier with years of experience and trauma.

After that, you had avoided eye contact when he held up the kid unless it was a polite smile or kind smile. You'd turn to the child in his hold for something but ignore his gaze on you. You weren't exactly sad. Something else was laced with your new avoidance. It was growing on his nerves. That and the new intrusive thoughts of you, holding a child. The image far in his mind, a high resemblance with you and a mix of him.

He could feel his fists clench as the images rushed through his mind. You, glowing under the sun, swollen with his child. The idea mixed with his fear. He tried to pull you closer to him as you held the little girl, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest as the little girl reached for his mask without an ounce of fear in her eyes. He could feel your breath hitch and the shiver that ran through you. His hand reached for the little girl's cheek, barely pinching, making the girl giggle. The soft skin against rough calloused one, hands that saw more horrors than the child would ever witness.

"S..Simon?" You stuttered, turning your head to send a questioning look.

He didn't answer, only dropping a kiss on your head through the mask. The idea crept in his mind, nesting there and haunting his mind. Price noticed. Of course he did. He knew Simon all too well, even through the mask.

"Ghost. What's on your mind?" He asked, sitting on the bench next to him.

Simon remained silent, eyes looking at you as you ate the soft cloudy pink thing in your hand.

"If you keep looking at her like that she'll notice." He teased.

"She wants kids." Simon blurted out.

"And you don't.." Price deduced. Simon groaned, closing his eyes. "Simon. Talk to me." Price added.

"I… shit." Simon felt the frustration grow. "I'll never be a good father. Fuck. I don't know what's a good father."

"Now you're hurting my pride and feelings." Price added.

Simon's head snapped towards the man who arbourded one of his signature smiles.

"I didn't mean… Price, you're an amazing father." Simon caught himself.

"I wouldn't say amazing. No one's perfect." He clarified, straightening himself. "But I try." He smirked. "Simon. It is your decision whether or not you want to have kids, and her decisions to accept it or not. But don't take that decision based on your past. You are not that man." He said, eyes locking into Simon's one. "I'd like to think, I raised you all to be better than that." He joked.

He was right. Price was the closest thing to a father he ever had. The best role model he could think of. It didn't erase the fear of it all. But a tiny part of his brain was unlocked, one that might see himself with a baby later on. Price patted his back, smiling again before getting up to join his wife. Simon tried to look at you, falling into your pretty eyes. He frowned at the worried look on your features. He straightened himself, subtly patting his thigh. He cursed under his breath watching you obediently skip to him to sit on his lap.

"Are you.. ok, Simon?" You asked, a low voice.

"I'm ok baby. Are you ok love? " he asked as well. You looked away for a second, making him slightly squeeze your thigh. "Talk to me Y/N." He insisted.

You bit your lip before looking up at him with your pretty soft eyes.

"I'm sorry…" you whispered.

"You're sorry baby?" He frowned. "Tell me why."

"For.. I mean.. I've been with the kids all day so far.." you stumbled on your explanation.

"Yes. You have, why are you apologizing about that?" He was confused.

"I know… you don't want kids… we've talked about it. I don't want to annoy you by playing mama-"

He groaned, eyes shutting closed. Images of you playing 'mama' making his cock twitch in his pants. Now where did this new attraction come from?

"I'm sorry Simon!" You whined. His eyes snapped open.

"No baby. I'm not mad. I'm not annoyed.. don't think that." He reassured, his hand leaving your thigh to softly caress your cheek.

"You're… not?" You asked, a slight hint of relief in your voice.

"Of course not baby. Shit… you've been.. beautiful, playing mama.." he hissed.

He watched you blink, with a little shocked expression on your face. You tilted your head slightly.

"What..?" You asked.

"So fucking pretty… with Lily at your hip.." Simon groaned again, face burying in your neck, his pants getting uncomfortable. You shivered slightly.

"S-simon…" you whined a bit. "There's… people…"

As if on cue with your words, his hand caressed your thighs, featherlight fingers up and down your skin, sometimes too close to the burning heat growing in between your legs. He was supposed to behave. Just like he had instructed the recruits this morning at the briefing. But you looked tempting. And the new images in his head, him fucking his seed deep in you, with the slight possibility of watching you later on with your own baby. He was a pleaser after all. Your hands squeezed slightly his shoulders, trying to squirm nearer to him.

"Fuck.." he cursed against your neck. "Need you baby.." he growled against your ear.

"We… the car.." you tried, making him grin at your already hazy mind, just from the thought of him fucking you.

"No. Too long." He shook his head. He tapped your thigh lightly to make you stand, as you looked at him with a questioning look. He intertwined the tip of your fingers with his, barely pulling you forwards in front of him, your obvious compliance making him eager. He made you walk, sending a last glance to the group as Price caught his eye, shaking his head playfully at him.

His hand on the small of your back as he guided you towards the nearest 'staff only' door.

"S..sir, you can't-"

Simon threw a death glare to the poor employee who simply walked away, pretending not to have seen anything. You were softly pushed inside, the door closing behind the both of you.

"Simon-"

He had already lifted his mask above his nose, hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed your lips softly. A sigh escaped him, as if he finally felt the tension release from his muscles. You stepped closer to him, hands on his chest, a burning touch that made him crave more. Perhaps you were the sun, burning brightly for him, and he was Icarus, with the only goal to fly to you, no matter if you burn down his wings. He made sure to wrap his arm around your waist, the other hand cupping the back of your head as he pushed you back against the wall. Once he was sure you were safely against the wall, his hands now caressed your body freely, pushing and pulling at your clothes, only aching to feel your skin against his.

You were already whimpering, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails softly scratching his lower back giving him goosebumps. He ached for more. Needed to feel you. His hand pulled on your top with a rougher pull, freeing your perky breast.

"Simon! Someone could… walk in-" your complaints turned into a moan as his mouth found your sensitive nipple. You pushed forward your chest, giving him more access.

"So willing for me princess…" he groaned against your skin. You whined, hand at the back of his neck, trying your best to stifle your moan. His cock was painfully hard, images of you pregnant with his child only bringing him over the edge of control. He kneeled suddenly as you gasped, his hands undoing your short's button and zipper with expertise before pulling them down with your panties. He lifted one of your legs making you grab onto his shoulders to keep balance.

"Need to taste you.."

His hands hooked under your legs, wrapping around your ass before he planted a soft kiss on your naked lips. He could almost make such a sinful act look like the purest of them all. His eyes looked up at you, the sight of him down on his knees, mouth against your already soaked pussy made you whine pornographicly. His eyes were firmly planted into yours as his tongue slowly darted out, almost lazily, licking a stripe across your folds, not dipping in. You whimpered at the sight, your hands meeting the side of his face as you looked down at him lovingly, abandon written all over your gaze.

He groaned, closing his eyes, feeling unworthy of such dedication. His tongue pushed past your lips, tasting you as he groaned, feeling the wetness of his boxers as his cock leaked precum. He swirled the tip of his tongue on your puffy clit a few times, delicately before losing once again all control. He ate you like his life depended on it, his hips thrusting forwards slightly at a higher moan from you.

"Simon!" You hissed, scolding him from making you be so loud.

You weren't truly mad. How could you when his tongue was dragging you to the pits of hell where he sat on his throne ready to fuck you just like you like it. He was your devil, your beast, the one you'd happily sin for, give in your soul and life to. You shut your eyes, feeling the familiar high approaching. You whined his name, but he knew. Of course he knew. One would say you were an open book to him. He'd say you were a holy scripture. You'd say that he was the only one able to decipher you.

When you felt your body shake, stars behind your eyelids from pleasure and your hand hitting the wall behind, Simon's grip tightened on you, making sure to hold you up. You were panting when he pulled back, licking his lips greedily. He let his forehead fall against your stomach as his fingers traced down lazily to your still pulsating pussy. Two fingers at your entrance, toying with you before slowly pushing inside.

"Simon… ah.. please.." you moaned, unable to keep your level down.

He thrusted slowly, making sure to stretch you slightly, preparing your tightness to him. The impatience was killing him. Now was too much. His fingers left your heat, his tongue lapping at his fingers as he moaned against them. He got up, kissing you again, tongue demanding and dominating. His hand flew to his belt unbuckling it single handedly without breaking the kiss. Your breath hitched at the sound of it.

"Need to have you now… need to fuck you.." he said, his voice deeper and tone darker. The heavy contrast with the screams and laughter from outside of the door. Yes. Your devil.

But as he lifted you up, hands hooking underneath your knees, his tip at your entrance- when did he even?!- you snapped into reality.

"Simon wait! We don't have any condoms!" You yelped.

Condoms? Ah yes… you had stopped the pill two months ago for some hormonal problem. Shit… his mind went blank, neurons gone to play cards or something while the little naughty thoughts of his newly found kinks spurred his nerves. He bottomed out in one thrust, your wetness helping but the stretch and burn still present as you yelped.

"Si.." you tried to shake him out of his trance.

"Shh.. baby, let go… it's ok…" he shushed, hips thrusting up into slow movements, easing the burn and letting his fat cock rub against your walls the way he knows you like it. You were trying to keep a stern face, trying to scold him, but you'd lie if you'd say his behavior didn't truly turn you on. The position only helped him grind your clit, sending little electricity waves up your spine. When he finally had your brain into a cockdrunk mush, he grinned, picking up the pace. Your hands holding on to dear life around his shoulders as you whined and moaned loudly, eyes glossy and brows furrowed in a little pout.

"That's it baby… good girl… god you look so pretty, fuck, look so pretty taking this fat cock…" he groaned, making you squeeze around him, second orgasm way too close already. How did he even get you there so fast? He was damned skilled but shit… the way he looked at you. Logic gone, pupils dilated, muscles flexing underneath your palms. He looked ready to devour you… or devote himself to you. At this point you were sure both were knotted into a messy curse. What had happened to have him completely lose himself? Risk it all for a wild fuck?

A ping sadness coursed through you, probably flashing through your eyes as he thrusted deeper once to grab your attention.

"What's wrong baby?" He panted, slowing down his pace to slow, longing thrusts.

"You're… ah…Si… you're risking.. a lot…" you whined, trying to focus through the pleasure. He was. He definitely was. And he loved it. Loved the idea to fill you up with his seed and pump you full until he was sure to see you round with his-

"God.. fuck." He cursed loudly, craving giving him goosebumps as he slammed roughly into you. His mind was dirty talking him into a mess. "Yes. Shit. I'm risking it. I want it. Fuck. I need it." He chanted.

The heat rose to your cheeks, you didn't know if his words did something, but you came hard, unable to keep the loud moan echoing through the room.

"Wh..what..? Simon!" You tried to gather your thoughts.

A little tsk escaped him. Now that wouldn't do. He needed to up his game. You were thinking too much. His face was close to yours. Eyes boring into your very soul that you knew he had a chokehold on.

"Did I fucking stutter? You've been so pretty today…" he growled. "Acting like a mama with the kids… shit… been trying to stop myself from bending you over the, fuuuck… nearest surface just to breed this pretty little cunt.." you were going to talk. Say something but he cut you off. "We'll talk… not now… focus on me. Let me make you feel good… enjoy the feeling… the idea of me stuffing you full of my cum.." he rasped against the skin of your neck.

A curse, a jinx. Perhaps a devil but also some old god that came to ensnare you. You obeyed. Willingly give in. Entrusting him. The idea blooming in your mind, his eyes trapping you in that familiar feeling of no one else in the world but the two of you. No more laughs and screaming from outside. Nothing more but the two of you, the feeling of his length splitting you open at a reckless pace.

"Good girl… there you go.." he praised, feeling you relax in his arms, finally unable to think of anything else but him. Your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, the grinding of your clit making you jolt slightly, tears overwhelming you.

"S'good.. so… good…" you whined, tears running down your cheeks now.

"Yes baby… shit, so fucking good… you're doing good." His thrusts were sloppier, the sound of skin slapping and the sound of wetness filled the air. You were going to cum again, that one would wreck you. But wasn't this Simon's favorite pastime? Wreck you. Ruin you until the only thing on your mind is him.

"Si-" you moaned hiding in his neck.

"I know baby… I know… me too… s'close.." he moaned as he let his head back, giving you access to his neck. You nudged the fabric of the mask with your nose, just enough to show skin you could sink your teeth into as he made you bounce on his cock like you weighed nothing.

"You gonna cum for me? Milk my cock deep in you?" You moaned pitifully as an answer. "Yes you are mama… make me so proud of how well you're taking me…"

His new found nickname he found for you made something in you snap. You sank your teeth into his neck, the pain making him groan and jolt his hips up, hitting that sweet spot of yours. Now he was focused. Had a goal. His hips slamming into you at the perfect angle to make you crumble. And you were going to. He could feel it. His own high dangerously close.

"Cum with me mama… milk daddy and keep it all inside baby…" he cooed with a hiss as you bit another spot on his neck.

You shuddered around him, hips trembling trying to meet his thrusts, not that you needed it. The next wave of pleasure was blinding, your whines lost in sobs, nails digging into his back through the shirt, teeth drawing tiny droplets of blood on his neck. The loud curse, followed by moans as his sticky warm cum filled you up so deeply made your mind dizzy, your hearing gone for a few seconds.

He remained like this as you both tried to breathe the same air. His cock deep in you, plugging you full.

"Simon.." you sobbed.

He shushed you, lulled you in his arms, rocking left and right.

"Did so good baby… proud of you." He kissed your hair, slipping out of you before quickly putting you down on your feet, helping you stand before kneeling to help you slip back your panties and shorts back on. He zipped them up and buttoned the jean fabric.

"Darling… I'm still dripping with your cum…" you whined through a hiccup.

He let you slowly back against the wall just enough to shove his cock back in his briefs, closing his cargo pants. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He looked around the room, now taking in your surroundings, some kind of storage rooms for props. An old couch in a fairy tale against a wall. He picked you up bridal style, walking to the piece of furniture before sitting down, cradling you in his lap. He hugged you tight, praises kissing your skin.

"Simon… where did that come from…" you tried making him look at you.

"I…" he tried, clearing his voice. The reality of what he did hit him. "I've been watching you with the kids all day… don't know, what came over me…" he said, in some sort of apology.

"It's.. I'll get a plan B…" you mumbled.

"No-" he hurried. You looked at him in shock. "Listen… we'll talk about this… I, need to talk about this again. I don't know if I changed my mind, but I definitely… like, the idea of you bearing my child." He spoke, voice strained, unsure of his own words, feelings running across his mind at full speed.

"We'll talk about it then… but.. this" you blushed, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the way your panties were soaked with a mix of the both of you. "It happened…"

"Yeah… it did. I think… we still have a bit of time to think about it… doesn't have to be now. We'll talk at home. Just.. sorry I lost my shit." He apologized.

"I like it…" you whispered. His heart jumped.

"Oh mama… don't make me bend you over the couch…" he warned.

You giggled. He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your nose, nuzzled against your neck. Yes. You'd talk about it. You had to. He had to face every possible consequence of his actions. And make up his mind. He kept you in his arms for a long half an hour, making you giggle and cuddling you close to him. When he finally stood up with you, watching close your eyes and bite your lip, probably at the sensation of his seed dripping into your panties, he fought the need to simply fuck you again, or put you in his car and drive home to keep you in bed for the rest of the weekend.

"Simon! No!" You scolded.

You had seen his gaze. You knew that burning gaze. He smirked before pulling down his mask, walking to the door with you. The sun was blinding, the noise of the park bringing you back to the real world. Simon glared again at the poor employee who immediately looked away. He held your hand as you both walked through the park, looking for the rest of the group. Soap was the first one to notice you, loudly calling you, bringing your attention to the group.

"Hey! Where have you guys been?! Ghost you gotta ride that roller coaster with me!" He excitedly blurted out. Ghost sighed, making Soap roll his eyes with an overdramatic groan.

"Come on Y/N! You're coming then! You splash in the water after" He smirked at you.

Ghost tightened his hold on you, hand swiftly wrapping around your waist.

"I think Y/N needs a moment of rest. I think she's wet enough…" John's wife said, a teasing look towards you, making you blush madly.

"What are you talking about? She's totally dry…" Soap argued with a frown, looking at her and then at you and your blushing face. His eyes widened when his mind snapped things together. He stepped back, widening his stance to point a finger at Ghost.

"You naughty rascal! In an amusement park?! After telling us to behave?!" He almost yelled.

You hid your face in your hands. Little Kyle turned his attention to Soap while Lily giggled in her mom's arms.

"Soap…" Ghost warned.

"You're an animal." Soap shook his head, emphasizing the last word.

Ghost smirked underneath his mask. Lily leaned forward, grabby hands towards Ghost. His eyes softened picking up the girl in his arms, slowly rocking her. Soap had gone from his rant to being scolded by Price for being so loud as Gaz laughed and John's wife tended to her son. Simon looked down at you, freezing on the spot. The look of lust, craving and desire in your eyes. Perhaps… This was getting interesting.

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