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srslyscary · 1 month

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things they’ve said // ot8

things bf!skz has said to you

Including: bang chan, changbin, hyunjin, lee know, seungmin, han, felix, jeongin

Bang Chan

; “you’re too cute for this world, Y’know?”

; “don’t doubt yourself babe. you’re amazing in my eyes.”

; “not every day do you get to wake up to a gorgeous gal.”

; “I know it’s late, but check out this track I made— yeah it’s about you, what about it babe?”

; “stain my face with your pretty lips baby, I want everyone to know I belong to you— yeah with that new lipstick you bought, it’s a cute color. perfect for complimenting my face.”

; “i have seven kids and now they’re also YOUR seven kids.. deal with it, hah.”

; “you’re shorter than me, so your love capacity isn’t as strong as mine. it’s physically impossible for you to love me more babe.”

; “I can’t take my eyes off you. you’re just too pretty— I’m not trying to be creepy!— no— Y’know what I just won’t look at you then.. hehe.”

; “you deserve the universe.”

; “it’s kind of hard to unlove you sweetheart.”

; “it’s only been 2 minutes how do you already miss me.”

; “baby all I wanna do is see you. and do you.— just kidding… or am I?”

; “my goal is to keep you happy all the time.”

; “I love you because you’re the best. intellectual wise I REALLY would hate for someone to touch you lovingly like I do.”

; “excuse the fact that we’re locked in for life and you can’t go anywhere without me- HAHA.”

; “I got addicted to you very easily.”

; “I think I’m just in love with everything you do.”

; “I love you. I don’t think I said that enough today.”

Changbin

; “y’know what we should do? go have a picnic and watch the sunset. wouldn’t that be nice?”

; “you’re always pretty jagiya. you’re especially pretty without makeup.”

; “i’m tired. let’s cuddle, kay? I wanna feel you wrapped up in my arms, I’ll know you’re safe with me then.”

; “I literally just can’t have enough of you.”

; “I’ve been looking at pictures of you for the last 30 minutes—“

; “I like you mostest— no I love you. I’m IN love with you.”

; “wanna ft and eat together?”

; “You’re perfect to me. You always will be— it’s not cheesy it’s the truth!— accept my compliments right now!”

; “stop being stingy and give me more kisses! I’ll die if you don’t smother me— it’s true my doctor says so!”

; “your presence heals me.”

; “You’re like my healing wave and my bright sun.”

; “I can’t even describe in words how sexy you are right now- you’re just- WOW.”

; “FOOD DATEEEE! YAYYYY!”

; “I want you in every way that there is to want a person.”

; “You’re sweet, and hot.. good mix in my opinion.”

; “you should stay up.. I wanna keep flirting with you.”

Hyunjin

; “I wanted to talk to you. I miss your voice and your laugh, and your pretty face.”

; “my love, you could be more discreet if you’re trying to scare me— USING MINHO AS A SCARE TACTIC ISN’T FAIR EITHER!”

; “I’ll be as sassy as I want. Now give me a kiss I’m craving them— yes I’m on my period now hand them over or else.”

; “jokes on you, you’re my number one priority right now. the boys can wait a little while longer.”

; “I wanna stay up and talk to you.— What do you mean no?— that’s too bad, you’re not my mom.”

; “you mean more than the world to me.”

; “I don’t care who he was. he was looking at you the way I look at you. and I should be the ONLY person to look at you like that— cmon love.”

; “I’m physically craving your touch right now— I just want to sock you in the face and then kiss it right where it hurts— I’m joking I love you!”

; “I always wanna be by your side angel.”

; “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

; “I’m painting you love, what else would I be doing?”

Lee Know

; “you literally captivate me. your eyes especially. I could spend hours looking at your pretty face and never get bored.”

; “one day I’m gonna train my cats to come beat you up.”

; “I’m gonna punch you in the mouth. With my mouth. Softly.— yea I’m going to kiss you.”

; “stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you. it’s not funny— don’t laugh!”

; “I want your lips, I want your everything. or rather- I want you here so I can hold you.”

; “when I talk to you.. it’s like talking to my best friend. except I love you and I get to kiss you all over and all that cool stuff.”

; “your stubborn ass is never gonna listen— also I love your ass. literally.”

; “I’m really just.. fucking soft when it comes to you.”

; “yeah babe. you’re really pretty. the prettiest.”

; “You’re literally dreaming i didn’t say that— how’s that gaslighting?!”

; “you make me think of a love song every time I look at you.”

; “baby, just kiss me.”

; “Sure, we can get matching outfits.”

Seungmin

; “you look so innocent but I know you’re not— that makes me weak.”

; “I can tell you so many times how pretty you are, because you’re my pretty puppy and no one else’s.”

; “kinda wanna take you out for dinner— what I’m just saying?”

; “relax pretty puppy, I’m all yours.”

; “I wanna see you drunk off my kisses.”

; “I just like whacked Han in the back of the head and he started crying- funniest thing ever.”

; “we look cute together, don’t you agree?”

; “let’s live together, I hate everyone else except you.”

; “you haven’t talked to me since 12:03pm. I’m lonely. talk to me babe.”

; “it’s not like I hate going out. I just hate everyone else gets to see how pretty you are.”

; “didn’t you say you liked these?— yeah I got ‘em for you.”

; “babe, you’re constantly reading that. what is it?”

; “wanna come watch me practice?”

; “that dress is cute babe, you should get it.”

; “You’re so stupidly cute, it’s getting annoying.”

; “babe, I love you— but stop trying to get me to buy you that dog.”

Han

; “BABE GUESS WHAT— I love you!”

; “hi beautiful, I hope you had a good day!”

; “You’re so cute babeeee, you literally make my heart melt.”

; “wake up I miss you.”

; “baby, have I ever told you how pretty you are?— mhm! the prettiest.”

; “You’re all I’ll ever need.”

; “daily reminder that I’m so in love with you-!”

; “I woke up and the first thing I wanted was you.”

; “this pretty face is all mine— mine to kiss and stare at and compliment.”

; “my favorite thing to look at is you of course!!”

; “TODAY REMINDS ME OF YOU— BECAUSE ITS HOT.”

; “I got butterflies when you called me pretty.”

; “I stay up just to talk to you babe.”

; “girl the only side chicks I got are your other personalities.”

; “You’re always on my mind, duh.”

; “honestly my mom would be so proud of me if I brought you home.”

; “you have me on some foreign level of happy.”

; “why is it that birds chirp to communicate? let’s chirp to communicate baby! — IT’S NOT WEIRD IT’S NATURE.”

; “how’s your day going my beautiful future wife?”

; “face time meeee, I’m with the boyssss, they wanna say hi to my girlll!”

; “I want you. Only you.”

; “just kiss me and don’t stop.”

Felix

; “good morning angel. sleep well?”

; “I want all of you forever. you and your perfect face, your perfect body, your perfect personality.”

; “me and chan bought ice cream! wanna share with me?”

; “BABE THERE’S A SPIDER— oh right.. yeah I’ll kill it-“

; “so you’re saying you saw a cat and your first thought was to text me about it?— god I love you.”

; “you just have me so whipped. I’d do anything for you.”

; “sunshine, can I tell the boys about you?”

; “You’re my entire universe, and whatever is beyond that.”

; “such a pretty face, can’t believe I get to kiss you and call you mine.”

; “of course I made you some brownies! why wouldn’t I?”

; “when I kiss you it’s hard for me to stop.”

; “I love you with my heart baby.”

; “don’t get jealous baby you own my heart, I’m all yours.”

; “I wanna marry you already. I want a house, a dog, a weird grocery list, everything baby.”

; “why are you staring at me, huh beautiful?”

; “You’re really cute when you’re nervous.”

; “I’ll be over in five with pizza. Sound good?”

Jeongin

; “I’m so proud of everything you do lovely!”

; “proceed with caution you might burn down the kitchen.”

; “You’re literally my dream girl.”

; “I was just thinking about you— and our future.”

; “the thought of us kissing won’t leave my head-“

; “I miss you, call me?”

; “You’re cute.. we should be cute together!”

; “stay called me a peach.. do you think I’m a peach lovely?”

; “I don’t care what you wear, you’re beautiful either way.”

; “there she is— the girl of my dreams.”

; “I wanna be your every thought, every second of the day.”

; “I text you when I miss you.. which is all the time.”

; “can I tell you something? don’t freak out.— I love you.”

; “Sorry im busy! I’m discussing future wedding plans with your mom!”

; “you hungry lovely?— scratch that I know you’re always hungry, let’s go to that cafe down the street.”

; “send me videos of you— why would I want nudes? — no send me videos of you being silly and singing!”

; “I’m glad I met you too, you’re the best thing to happen to me.”

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peachesofteal · 1 year

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First Sight

Chapter 1 of 2. Part five of the Sassy series. Reblogs, comments, likes, interactions, etc are cherished by me. 🖤

Simon Riley/female reader 5.9k words - AO3

Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI, pregnant reader, PTSD, thigh riding, Simon talks you through it, praise kink, explicit sex, jealousy, possessive Simon, angst, tenderness, mentions of blood and violence, nightmares, childbirth, medical procedures, Simon is bad at feelings; Simon is learning how to have his feelings. Simon has felt this before.

“And you are?”

“I’m her… I’m the baby’s father. We had her information updated two weeks ago, at the office. I’m listed as her emergency contact.” The doctor looks skeptical but taps a few keys on her laptop before she glances back to him.

“Last name?”

“Riley.”

“Sorry, Mr. Riley. She’s been my patient for nearly seven months, and I’ve never seen or heard of you.” Bloody hell. His jaw clenches together so hard he thinks his teeth might shatter.

“I’ve been overseas.” The lights and sounds are scratching under his skin, making him tense, priming him for a fight. “I came in on the ambulance with her... I have to be with her. She can’t be alone when she wakes up. She’ll be scared. She won’t… she has P-.”

“I am aware of her history.” The doctor snipes and his fist tightens, tendons curling until his hand becomes a weapon, not thing the of comfort it was a mere ten minutes ago.

“Look. I’m on her list. So you can let me back there or-“ She holds her hand up to silence him and the vein in his forehead pulses.

“I’ve already paged a tech to bring you to her room, Mr. Riley. It’s just going to be a few minutes.” She gives him a reproachful look before she says something about coming by to check on you shortly, and he lets out a long breath.

You’re somewhere else. Your eyes are trained on the e-reader in your hand, but they’re not moving across the screen. You’re not blinking. Your breathing is even, and deep, but your fingers are fisted in the blanket, and your gaze is burning a hole through the bed, through the floor, possibly right down to the core of the earth.

It makes Simon nervous.

Not because he is afraid of your PTSD.

He is afraid of you slipping away. Sometimes, you leave and come back a different girl, the guarded one, the one that hasn’t tried to forgive him, the one who is reliving the pain he caused her every second. The one who takes your place when you disappear right in front of him, who’s memories burn too bright.

He knows he may never be fully absolved in your mind, but you still show him mercy. You still let him in, still let him have you, except in the moments when you fall through his fingers like tiny grains of sand. Those moments may have been earned, but it doesn’t make their sting any less painful, and he struggles in throes of them.

“Sass?” He calls, cautiously, reaching for where your hand is clenched. His fingers graze the sheets, the softness of the fabric much like your skin. They must be expensive, he figures, the cotton luxurious against the rough scrape of his palm. He thinks he likes the color, the soft green that matches the chair and the trim in the baby’s room. “Glacial green,” you correct him every time he calls it light green, or blue green, or pea soup. It’s a natural tone, earthy, and you seem to gravitate towards it, always telling him you think the color is ‘soothing’ or ‘calming’. You have a few shirts and sweaters in the same palette too, and an old, faded sweatshirt that you used to wear when you were with the 141, worn out lettering stitched across the chest. It was too big for you then, always drooping below the flare of your hips, the hem stretched out and curled. Now, it pulls snugly across your middle while you lay in bed beside him, where the e-reader sits in your dainty fingers. He doesn’t know how you’ve done it, keep your fingers so velvet and smooth, even after your years in the desert. “Sass.” He tries again, louder, squeezing with the lightest bit of pressure until you blink.

“I’m here.”

“I know.” You turn your face up towards him with a sleepy smile, and he reaches for you without hesitation. “Tired?” He murmurs into your hair, your nose just slightly smashed into his neck.

“Mmm. Yeah, sleep sounds nice.” He finds the light easily, pulling the room into darkness with a flick of the chain, and returns to press his face to yours before succumbing to the pull of sleep.

“I mean, did you get a good look at her?”

“Shit. I’d bury my face in that ass. EOD is air force, right? Think she’s got a landing strip?”

“Dunno but I’d be coming in for a landing all the time if she was on my squad.” The table of privates laugh to each other, and Simon’s fingers curl around the bottom of the beer bottle in front of him. He briefly considers, for a moment, if Price would dismiss him if he broke it over one of their heads and then used the shards to slit the rest of their throats. Bleed ‘em out right there on the table.

He shifts on the stool. Johnny gives him a skeptical look. One of them, says something else. Sounds a little like ‘tight’ and ‘pussy’ strung together. Another one snickers.

He’s on his feet behind them before anyone realizes. The low drone of rage pressurizes inside his skull.

“Want to share what’s so funny, private?” The table falls silent immediately, all of them staring up at him, dumbfounded.

“N-nothing’s funny, sir.”

“Ya sure about that?” Johnny chimes in before Simon can say anything.

“The bomb tech, we were just… appreciating her. Saying how nice it must be nice, having something like that to look at all the time.” Simon can feel the heat of Johnny’s gaze on the nape of his neck.

“The bomb tech outranks you, private. You will address her as Sergeant.”

“Y- yes, sir.”

When he gets back to the base and little house the 141 is crammed into, you’re already asleep in your room. Sprawled across the shitty thin mattress, your shirt rucked up around your stomach, little boyshorts riding the curve of your hips. The scar from Belize is still shiny across your ribs, peachy and puckered. The sight of you safe and sleeping soothes the raw buzzing of anger in the back of his head.

His girl. His.

He’s already got his hands all over you by the time he gets his boots off, and you shift a little when he presses his face into the top of your ass.

“Simon?” you mumble. “Y’okay?” Simon, Simon, Simon. It’s always Simon with you now. You’re constantly stripping him bare with it, and he doesn’t even know your name.

He teases a hand across your skin, over the scar and up under the peak of your breast to your nipple, where he rolls the already hardening bud between his fingers. You shudder with a moan, shoulders twisting to turn yourself on your back, but he stops you. His teeth find the swell of your ass, and he sinks them deep. You squeak.

“Can you hold still?” He says, your body answering for you with a shiver. The bite woke you sharply, and you watch him out of the corner of your eye.

He pulls the underwear down your legs until they disappear, and then sinks his fingers into your cheeks. The glisten of your cunt shimmers, already wet, already waiting for him.

“Scoot back, sweet girl. Up on your knees.” You do as he says, shimmying down until you’re pressing against his thigh, clit ghosting against the fabric of his jeans, just barely. Your hips are shifting, slowly, and he knows you’re trying to get just a little bit more friction. He leans over you, gloved hand in your hair. “Now be good for me and rub your desperate little clit on my leg until you come.” You shake your head no and he rears back, pulling off his shirt and gloves, leaving the mask and his jeans the only thing on his body. He slaps you across your ass, just hard enough to watch the skin turn under his palm, and you jolt with a moan, cunt pushing back against his leg. “Do you want me to give you my cock, Sass?” you nod frantically. “Then ride my thigh until you’re coming on it.” The curve of a smile, a smirk, pushes at your cheek, and you start to move your hips, slowly at first, and then fevered, chasing your high while he watches. “That’s my girl, just like that.”

You start to jerk erratically, your face screwing up into the little pout and he knows you’re close. “You going to come Sass?” You mewl pathetically, mouth making desperate sounds and he watches you rub yourself all over him. “Sweet girl. That’s it, just a little more. There you go.” Your gasps reach a fever pitch, and he groans. “Ride it out, good girl. Come all over me.” His jeans are smeared with you, but he praises you, telling you how good you were, how much he likes that you made a mess on him. Once you come down from it, he strips and presses himself along your back, rucking the balaclava up to his nose to pull the skin beneath your ear between his teeth. He wants to mark you, hard. Leave an impression of himself on your body, brand you down to your bones. Tomorrow, when those fuckwit privates line up for brief, he wants them to know.

He sinks into you as deep as he can, little noises coming from your mouth as he splits you open on his cock, your cunt so tight it feels like it’s choking him.

“Si-Simon.” It’s his name, again. You’re flaying him alive with it. When you say it, it feels like he’s not wearing the mask, it feels like he is Simon, and not Ghost. He’s becoming addicted to it, consumed by it. It makes his head foggy, makes him do things that he’s never done, like approach a table of infantry and scare them out of running their mouths, or mark you like you belong to him. You cloud his judgement. You make him want things, things he doesn’t deserve, things he could never have. You make him soft, and desperate, and when you turn and look over your shoulder as he slams himself to the hilt, your gaze burns into him like you’re seeing him. Like you know.

“Please, don’t.” Your voice breaks as you beg, clutching the baby to your chest. Your face is bruised, nose probably broken, and tears stream down your cheeks. You’re trembling, eyes desperate as you plead. “Simon. Simon, get up. Please, get up.” He tries, but he can’t. He is beaten. His body is broken, bones shattered, organs bleeding out slowly inside him. The cool metal kiss of a barrel presses to your temple and you scream at him, for him, he’s not sure anymore. “SIMON GET UP.” His body weighs a thousand pounds, and cannot lift himself to help you, to save either of you. The gun cocks, and you close your eyes right before the finger on the trigger moves, the bang echoing across the room and your-

He jerks awake, immediately seeking the warmth of your body next to him in bed. When he feels you, his chest loosens, and you shift onto your side, cracking an eye open.

“Hey.” Your voice is thick with sleep, but still sweet as honey, and he takes your hand in his. Your pulse flutters under his palm. Strong. Stable.

“Hey.”

“Nightmare?” He nods.

“Go back to sleep.” You roll your eyes, flicking on the light that sits at your bedside table.

“I’ve been sleeping forever, I am practically sleeping beauty at this point.” You stroke through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. “Wanna talk about it?” you whisper, and he shakes his head. Yeah, Sass. Want to hear all about how I keep dreaming of your bloody corpse? Or about how I keep seeing you and our son being murdered right in front of me, over and over and I’m powerless to stop it? That’ll do real well for your stress level. Instead, he smooths his hand over the swell of your belly, where the baby sleeps, warm and protected, safe from everything out here that might hurt him. “You promised.” You needle, and the slight push is all that’s needed to relent.

“I keep… dreaming of you dying. Or being killed, in front of me. You and the baby.” You sit up a little and he immediately pulls the second pillow down behind the small of your back for support.

“Dying how?” He swallows.

“Someone’s holdin’ a gun to your head and you’re begging me to save you, but I can’t. I’m lying on the floor, bleeding out.”

“Sounds pretty scary.” There are a lot of things, that he hasn’t found the courage to say out loud to you yet. Promises and pledges, thoughts about being grateful and feelings of adoration. He wants to tell you how much he appreciates that you listen to him, that you validate him, but the words never come out, so he presses a kiss to your forehead before sliding down so his head is resting on the side of your belly.

The memory of the dream skips across the forefront of his mind, and he can still see you lying in a pool of blood, little boy lifeless in your arms. The blood, that looks just like the blood that covered the walls and the floor of his family’s house. His mom’s blood. Tommy and Beth’s. Joseph’s. The blood, that looks just the same as it did when he found you unconscious a few weeks ago, smells the same as when it poured out of the wound in your stomach in Belize. The blood, the blood, the-

“Simon.” He doesn’t even realize he’s breathing harshly until he hears you saying his name. “Hey, Si. Simon, it’s alright.” You stroke up and down his arm, tracing a faded pattern in his sleeve. “You’re here, in my house. In my bed. With me. There is no danger.”

“With you.”

“With me. And the baby. We’re here, together. We’re safe.” He turns his head, pressing his ear to your skin. Swoosh swoosh swoosh. The heartbeat soothes the frayed edges of his nerves, and the two of you sit just like that for a while, content. “Shit.” You groan, the sound a low whisper, and anxiously rub your belly. He waits for what he knows is coming, the pure, sweet melody that you hum when you try to settle the baby. The once guilty pleasure, when he would stand just out of sight so he could hear it, is now a full indulgence, as he’s able to lay beside you and rub circles into your skin while you hum softly.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, you gasp in surprise.

“Sass? What is it?”

“I… I think I peed myself.”

“Hey!” No. How did you find him so fast? “Simon, wait.” When you say his name, it jams into his brain, scrambling the signal, and forcing his steps to falter. It’s just enough for you to catch him. “Look. I know you’re mad. I know I fucked up.” You’re breathing heavily, probably from sprinting down the row of tents that he had ducked past, and you push your hands out in front of you like you’re trying to cage him in. “But I made sure Gaz was alright, and I still had a job to do! Those charges were my priority, I wouldn’t have split up otherwise. Simon, I understand-“ He cuts you off swiftly.

“You can address me by my call sign, Sergeant.” You startle. He looks away, looks anywhere else but your face, where your gaze waits to peel him open.

“What?”

“You will address me as Ghost, or Lieutenant.”

You’re guarded now, expression wary, but there’s still something hopeful in your eyes, something that’s calling him home to you.

He has to get away. Now.

You take an uneasy step forward, hand extended like you’re going to touch him.

“Simon.” You whisper.

He steps back.

Your face falls.

He’s tactical about it. The bag, the extra pillow, your shoes. A phone charger, the collection of snacks you’ve been hoarding recently, like a dragon hoards their gold. He remembers everything.

Almost everything.

His phone rings when he’s buckling his seatbelt.

“So, should I like, call an uber or are you going to help me get in the truck?” Bloody hell. He nearly beats his head against the steering wheel before he’s unbuckling and running towards the door. You’re standing in the living room, hands on your hips, unimpressed, with a hint of a smile on your lips.

“I’m sorry, I-“ you wave him off, reaching for his arm.

“Come on, you gotta boost me up.”

His eyes dart back and forth from the road, to where you sit, stone-faced in the passenger seat. You’ve been quiet since he pulled out of the driveway, the silence an uneasy thing that rests heavily between the two of you, and he reaches for your hand that lays limp on the seat.

“How’s the pain?”

“Not too bad.” You’re chewing on your lip, still lost in thought for a moment before you speak again. “Simon. If something happens…” his blood freezes.

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“We’ve never discussed it though. What to do if something goes wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Something has already gone wrong. Everything has gone wrong. It can’t get worse. It can’t.

“Well, if there are complications and we have to choose…” He almost pulls the truck over, his heart seizing in his chest like he’s been electrocuted. A million scenarios slam through his brain at record speed, flipping open in front of him like a picture book. Everything he’s imagined before, but worse. This time, it’s not mercs, or a stray bullet, or shadowed government assassins that take you away from him, but your own body, or a doctor, or-

No. He would not be without you if there was a choice. Not again.

“There is no choice, Sass.” His voice is gruff, and you palm your belly with a gulp. “We… I, would choose you. A million times. A million and one. There is no other choice… for me.”

“Okay.” You whisper. A tear rolls down your cheek before it’s hastily wiped away, and you turn to him with wide eyes.

“Okay.” He echoes, taking your hand in his.

You almost died. You almost died, and he wasn’t there. Johnny almost died, and you almost died, and he can’t stop thinking about the two of you wandering around trying to find the 141, trying to escape without a weapon, or comms, or anything. He can’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were, how close you came to being dead. Being gone. Like everyone else. Like his family.

The feeling fills his body with ice. It paralyzes him before panic seizes his nervous system, pouring fear into every synapse flitting through his brain.

His family. You could have been lost, like his family.

He barges through the door of the office, eyes wild behind the mask.

“I need her gone.” Price looks up at him, perplexed.

“Who?”

“Sass. Transfer her. Put her on leave. Anything.”

“What are you on about?”

“I can’t… I can’t have her here. She’s fuckin’ with my head.” His chest feels tight, like there’s a thousand pounds sitting on his ribcage. It’s terror that is pumping through his veins right now, unbridled, and raw, threatening to wreck him where he stands.

“Ghost, calm down.”

“I can’t!” It’s practically a shout. He’s losing it. The empty echo of the dead radio replays over and over in his head. The image of Johnny, bleeding out, slumped against your small frame, the panic on your face, the two of you covered in blood loops repeatedly every time he closes his eyes. It melts into the memories of finding his family dead and then twists together, over and over until he thinks he might be hallucinating.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Price is standing now, voice calm, gesturing to the other chair. He’s not a loose cannon, not anymore, but it’s been a long time since he’s raised his voice at the captain. Guilt swells inside him.

“I’m fuckin’ her.” He paces in front of Price’s desk. “And it’s… She’s messing me up. Can’t think clearly.”

“You’re what now?”

“I’ve never… I’ve never asked you for anything-”

“Simon-“

“and I know this is unfair. She’s great at her job, Price I know that. But I have the seniority. And I need ya to do this for me.”

“I can’t just dismiss her. I brought her here, asked her myself.” He grits his teeth.

“Price… she….” His lungs are screaming now, his breath coming in short gasps but there’s no oxygen in this room. “It’s not… I can’t. It’s not safe.”

“Simon, sit down.” It’s an order, and he complies, slumping into the chair and cradling his head in his hands. “Now. Start from the beginning.”

“I know you’re disappointed.”

“You said I would be able to try.” You doctor is sitting on a chair at your bedside, across from Simon. She’s wearing a very serious expression, and you’re wearing your ‘don’t fuck with me face’, the one he’s seen time and time again, before and during ops. You open your mouth to argue with her again, but a contraction steals your breath, your nails sinking into his skin like tiny razorblades.

“Just breathe.” He soothes, stroking over the crown of your head until you fall back onto your pillow, tense lines of your forehead relaxing as your eyes close.

“If the placenta separates any further from the wall of the uterus during the rest of your labor, it could be life threatening for both you and the baby.” She doesn’t handle you with kid gloves, and you lift a lid to glare at her. He swallows the chuckle in his throat. Surefire way to catch a fist in the jaw.

“Fine.” The word is hissed through clenched teeth, and she pats your hand reassuringly.

“They’ll be some paperwork to sign, and then we’ll get you prepped. Nothing to eat or drink in the last six hours, right?”

“I’ve been in labor for the last seven and a half hours, so no.” you deadpan, before looking longingly over to your bag of snacks. The doctor glances at him with a gentle smile.

“Mr. Riley, you’ll need to change, we can… hopefully, provide you with scrubs that fit. We’ll also give you a surgical mask, and a cap. Sound good?” He nods in thanks as she leaves, and he turns back to you, pulling the mask down to his chin to rest his cheek against your palm. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not gonna pass out in there, right?”

“Me?”

“Well, they are going to pull my guts out.” What? You giggle, just a little, and heave a sigh. “But seriously. Don’t faint. I don’t think they have gurneys big enough for you.”

“I’ve seen plenty of guts, Sass.”

“Yeah…but not mine.”

Price announces his presence with a knock. “Heli’s almost here.” Simon says nothing. His elbows dig into his knees, fingers rolling the elastic band between his thumb and forefinger, strands of your hair wrapping around and around the tie until they become tight, little strings that make indentations. “Ghost.” He knows what Price wants. What he wants to hear. He still says nothing. “I did this for you against my better judgement.” Price says, like he doesn’t already know. When Simon looks at him, he sees the weight of their decision. The shame. The guilt. And he feels it, too. “You should say goodbye, Simon.”

His voice is rough, on the verge of a scream, or something worse when he finally speaks.

“I can’t.”

“So, when you get in the room, you’ll notice she’s lying on a table, and there’s a drape that’s a visual barrier between her chest and the rest of her body.” The nurse, the super friendly one that you said you liked, is talking him through what’s happening while he walks down the hallway next to her. Her shoes squeak a little bit against the linoleum, and he focuses on the pattern of the sound. Step squeak, step squeak, step- “Now, she can’t feel anything, but C-sections can be nerve-wracking, and she got a little anxious when we got into the OR.” He nods. Of course you’re nervous. You’re strapped to a table where they’re about to cut a hole in your abdomen. “She’s asked for you a few times, I promised I’d deliver.” She gives him a wink and pushes open a door. “Here he is!” She calls cheerily, and you turn to look, eyes finding his within a second, like always.

“Simon.” You wiggle your fingers towards him, and he wastes no time, sitting in the chair that the nurse pointed to and bringing your hand to the mask, right where his lips are.

“Hi sweet girl. You alright?” You nod.

“I think I’m a little high.”

“She had just a bit of midazolam, for the nerves.” Your doctor says from the other side of the drape.

“That’s alright.” He smoothes some hair from your face and tries to remember to breathe. Everything about this room sets him on the edge, and there’s a live wire running through his bones, all the way down to where his hand holds yours. There are too many people, too many lights, machines, and his skin is crawling, the desire to snatch you from the table and disappear down the hall repeating in the back of his mind, again and again. He can’t stop thinking about what could go wrong, terrible scenarios that leave you dead or the baby dead, or both. They push and pull at the logical side of his brain, fighting to get through, desperate to derail him, insistent and-

You smile up at him, all sweet, a little daft from the drugs, and everything feels quiet again. The tension between his shoulder blades lets out like air from a balloon, fast and easy.

“You ready?” He thumbs at a tear escaping from the corner of your eye. You’re looking at him, looking beneath the mask, kicking and tearing past the pieces of Ghost until you strike true, until you reach Simon. You always do.

He pushes his forehead against yours, and breathes you in, the stench of sterile hospital and all.

“Yeah, Sass. I’m ready.”

He’s pulling the balaclava back over his face when you bust through the door and ram right into him. He recoils, the reaction second nature, and his eyes find yours in the little bathroom mirror immediately. You step away, the room stretching too big all the sudden, the distance between his body and yours too far, and his brain stumbles over the realization. Something stutters in his chest, his breath catching when he looks at you, watching as you flail before you look away.

“Shit! Fuck. Sorry.” You glance at the wall, then the floor, then turn to run before he figures out how to make his mouth work.

“You’re alright, Sass. I’m finished.” You’re standing half in the hall, half in the bathroom, bleeding, and something twists in his gut. Blood and injury are not uncommon in the 141, but he’s surprised at how unsettled he feels when he sees the trickle of red on your shoulder.

“Get that cleaned up.” It comes out rough, like an order, and your throat bobs with a swallow.

“Okay a little bit of pressure and then you’re going to feel a lot of relief.” The doctor says and you nod, fingers pressed into his palm.

“Simon.” Your voice wavers.

“I’m right here. I got you.” He keeps his eyes trained on yours, willing himself to get lost in the hue of your irises, tuning out everything else in the room until-

A baby cries.

“Congratulations mom and dad!” Someone calls and the room spins. Mom and dad.

“Can I see him?” your fingers are still entrenched in his, the words watery and light.

“Breath sounds are good.” A voice says, and then there’s a squalling baby next to him. A baby. Your baby. His.

“Oh. Oh.” You’re in shock, he thinks. He’s not sure, because he might be too, and he blinks rapidly as you place a few fingers on the baby’s cheek. “Hi, Theo.” You coo and cry, smiling through the tears that dot your face. The nurse says something to you, and then she places the baby on your chest, where you cradle him with your other arm, pulling Simon’s hand up towards Theo’s back for support, holding it against his skin. You glance up at him for a second, teary happiness morphing into concern, and then back before your finger lifts from Theo’s cheek to his, swiping along his cheekbone. He presses your palm to his face with his free hand, over the mask, and closes his eyes for a second.

When you pull away, your fingers shimmer under the white lights of the operating room, and the tips of them shine with something wet.

His tears.

“I don’t see cabbage. What about romaine?”

“No. It has to be cabbage. Or kale! But I really prefer cabbage, and so does your kid, you know. Romaine is totally different.” You babble, and he stares at the heads of green leafed things underneath the misters, eyes scanning for the label that says cabbage.

“I don’t see any cabbage, Sass.” A woman who’s inspecting a shiny red pepper a few feet away from him looks over, curiously.

“It’s a staple food, Si. It never sells out; it has to be there.”

“It’s not.”

“Ask someone.” Irritation is bleeding into your voice now, and the idea of approaching a store employee makes his skin itch. Maybe he can just buy the romaine and ask for forgiveness, or go to a different supermarket. It’s not quite midnight yet, something else could be open.

The woman inspecting the peppers has sidled closer to him, close enough that he can see her face turned upwards towards his, eyes studying the balaclava before she clears her throat.

“Excuse me?” He turns, eyes narrowed.

“Who is that?” your voice rings through the speaker. “Is that a woman? Ask her where the cabbage is!” He pulls the phone away from his ear and blinks down at her.

“The cabbage is up here.” She says politely, pointing to the top row of light green, rounded vegetables. Nearly in front of his face.

“Thanks.” He says roughly, but she smiles at him all the same, while you call his name over and over on the phone. “I got it.”

“Yes! Oh my god thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bloody lucky I love you.”

The line is silent. His heart lurches, thundering into a frantic beat that thrums through his entire body. His limbs feel numb, and he doesn’t say anything else, just holds his breath. He can hear you breathing, just barely, through the phone, but it sounds like you’re trying to hold your breath, too. Like you’re listening for him.

“Simon-“

“I still gotta get the potatoes. See you in a bit.” The line goes dead.

“Okay, sit here.” The nurse instructs and he forces his legs to move, makes his knees bend so he can lower himself in the chair. He can’t look away from what she’s holding in her arms, the infant, the baby that is his and yours. His kid. “Skin to skin is very important for newborns. It helps regulate their heartbeat and breathing and can help maintain their temperature.” She continues, motioning for him to relax against the backrest.

“Skin to skin?”

“Yes. You’ll need to take off your shirt.” He shakes his head. He can’t do this. You should be doing this. You’re his mother. He’s… he’s not you. Theo won’t want him, he’ll want you. He- “Mr. Riley? You don’t have to, but while we wait for her to get back, it’s a good opportunity for it.”

“What do I do?” The idea of holding Theo to his scarred chest makes him feel sick.

“Once you take off your shirt, I’ll put Theo in your arms and cover you both with a blanket.”

“I don’t think…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to hold him if that’s what you’re worried about.” Theo cries out, a sharp, shrill sound that draws her attention downwards before she looks back up at him with an expectant expression. Skin to skin is very important for newborns. He knows you would want him to do this. He knows that you would understand too, if it was too much, if he felt too exposed. But it’s important. Theo needs this. He needs… his dad.

He pulls the scrub top over his head, careful to keep the mask in place, and leans back slowly against the chair.

“You’re going to support his head just like this-“ she moves him into the crook of his elbow, positioning his little legs and arms so that he’s laying flush against his chest. “and his body will just rest right here in this space… and there you go.” Simon doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t move, he can hardly think. He doesn’t even feel her place a blanket over his body, curling it beneath where he cradles the baby. All he can see is Theo in his arms, so tiny, his eyes scrunched shut and small hand curled into a fist.

The lights in the room go dim, and he looks up, realizing that the nurse is by the door. “I’m going to give you some privacy. They should be finishing up with mom soon but there’s a button right there, next to the bed. The red one. Press it if you need anything and one of us will be here right away. Okay?” She gives him another encouraging smile and he nods.

“Okay.” When the door clicks shut, he finally lets out the shakiest breath of his life and reaches up to pull the surgical mask from his face. Theo’s eyes aren’t open, but his chest rises and falls, soothing some of the fear that has a grip on his heart. He gently touches Theo’s hand, and his tiny fingers curl around Simon’s giant one. He gets lost, staring down at the small boy. Looking at every single feature, his ears, his nose, the bow of his lips. He tries to memorize it all, the way the tuft of his hair sits, the creases of his skin around his elbows and knees, the soft pant of his breath. It fills him with emotion, so much he’s afraid it might overwhelm him, bury him beneath its weight. He knows this feeling, has felt it grow inside him since the very first day he laid eyes on you. Has watched it fight through a forest of dark and snarled roots, cutting and biting away at the things that have died and festered inside him. He knows it better than he knows himself now, knows the truth, cannot deny this knowledge that he would lay down and die for you, for Theo. He understands the pure terror that has blazed within him since that day in Belize, and he knows that he would spend the rest of his life, waiting in agony with bated breath, just to kiss you once more, or hold his child in his arms.

It terrifies him, but he knows its name.

He knows it’s love.

Simon leans down and brushes his lips across his son’s forehead, gentle and light, before murmuring to him as softly as he can manage.

“Hey, Theo. I’m your dad."

The next fic in this series is here.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #female reader #sassy series #simon riley #pregnant reader #simon riley x you #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #tw pregnancy #peaches writes #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x female reader #dad Simon Riley

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inlovewithgreta · 9 months

Text

Bratty Behavior - Addison Montgomery x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Synopsis: After giving Addison attitude all day, she comes up with a plan so it never happens again.

Warnings: dom!addy, brat!reader, mommy kink, spanking, pussy slapping, fingering, choking, degradation kink, praise kink, voyeurism, thigh riding, and I think that's it??

Word Count: 4.4k

A/n: this honestly took me forever to write but I’m lowkey happy with how it turned out! thank you for being patient with my slow writing but I have plenty of wips I can start pushing forward that I can’t wait to share with y’all!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"...and Y/l/n, you're with Montgomery. Special request." Bailey stated, after assigning you and the rest of your fellow interns to the Attending you'd each be helping out for the day.

You let out a sigh of relief, glad to be on Addison's service. The two of you had kept your 'relationship' private. Well at least you considered it one, as you two were only seeing each other and had spent numerous hours in each other's arms in bed any chance you could get. You two only had eyes for each other, and you were ready to come out to the Chief, but Addison on the other hand wasn't, and she never told you why.

You were happy to be working on the Pediatric floor for the day, as the vibe was more uplifting and calming compared to any other floor of the hospital. Work went as it usually did, you checked up on patients, ran labs, and did everything you were supposed to do, and did it the most efficient way you could. To any doctor, they should be thrilled they had an intern who did what they were told, and did it well. But nobody seemed to notice, not even Addison.

As today was hectic, Addison started piling you with work that had quickly turned your mood sour when you had multiple patients getting that had forced you to change your scrubs on numerous occasions while Addison completely disregarded you. She barely even glanced in your direction when you called out to her as she walked past you, which only fueled your negative mood.

"Seriously?" You called out, turning on your feet to face Addison who now turned to face you at the raise of your voice.

"What is it, Y/l/n? I have things to do." The redhead crossed her arms.

"Addison, I called out to you and you straight up ignored me."

"Dr. Montgomery," She simply stated.

"W-what?" You asked, with a confused face.

"It's Dr. Montgomery to you, Y/l/n. In case you forgot, we are at work, and I am your boss."

"In case you forgot, I have your patients lab results, along with their scans that you need to check out. I've never seen anything like it before."

Addison's tongue swiped at her upper teeth at the sass you were giving her, along with backtalk that you had never used with her before, and she didn't like it. The redhead had to hold her composure, snatching the labs from your hands and running her eyes over the pages.

"Schedule her for surgery, we need to take care of this now."

"Can I scrub in?" You hopefully asked.

"No."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Why not? Dr. Montgomery, I've been running around doing her labs all day–"

"You haven't earned it," she stated. "Now go schedule the surgery."

"But–"

Addison cut you off with a finger to your lips as she took a threatening step closer, her body only mere inches from yours. Heat radiated off her body as she let out a small huff.

"No buts, you're talking back, you're sassy, and you're being a brat. Tell me why I should let you in on this surgery when you have an attitude."

You slightly rolled your eyes, annoyed that you had put in the work but didn't get the reward for it, and didn't even get the chance to speak with her finger blocking your lips from moving. In this moment, you didn't care about the eye roll, but for Addison, it only added fuel to the fire you would have to deal with later.

"That's what I thought, now go." She forced the labs back into your hands with a stern expression.

You huffed and did as you were told, unaware of the fact that Addison was now thinking of a way to knock the sassiness out of you. Normally, just her stern look alone would have you on your knees in submission, but today was different. You were being a brat, and Addison was not about to let you get away with it.

Hours later, as Addison was making her way to your locker room, Mark pulled Addison aside and claimed that you were being sassy towards him all day, but Mark being Mark, he was enjoying this new side of you. After he filled her in, her trimmed brows couldn't help but raise as she licked her lips, excusing herself to drag you immediately home.

The ride home was quiet, with you just staring out the window and Addison watching the road. After work, you had mainly found yourself at her place, it immediately became a routine that you would stay with her on days you weren't on call. As you entered the house, Addison's gaze never left your back as she noted the way you threw your bag on the floor, and the way you didn't hesitate to nearly rip your clothes off to rid yourself of your dirty work clothes.

"What's with the attitude today, hmm?" She questioned, making her way over to you after setting her own stuff aside.

"I don't have an attitude, Addy." You huffed when she blocked you from leaving the bedroom.

She nodded her head and puckered her red stained lips, knowing you weren't going to admit it with the bratty behavior you've had all day.

"Fine, get on the bed."

"What?"

She took a step closer, her slightly taller figure looming over you as her gaze turned dark with desire.

"Get on the bed."

"Addy, I'm not–" You went to talk back, but before you could, Addison lifted your face with a slender finger under your chin, closing your mouth in the process, while her nail ever so slightly dug into your sensitive skin.

"I'm going to fuck this attitude out of you until my little princess decides to rejoin me." She sternly stated, slowly guiding you back towards the bed. "Now sit."

You felt your knees hit the back of the bed, and they couldn't help but buckle at her words. Your nearly bare ass met with the soft duvet behind you as Addison couldn't help the wicked smirk that formed along her reddened lips at you listening to her command.

"See, it's not that hard to be good for me, now is it?"

The rose colored blush that crept onto your cheeks didn't go unnoticed by the redhead as she towered over you.

"But you haven't been good, have you?"

When you don't answer her immediately, Addison grabs your face, fingers digging into your flushed cheeks with a stern grip as she lowers her face down to yours.

"Have you?"

"No–" You whimpered.

"That's right, you haven't. You've been sassy and bratty towards me all day, and for what? Was mommy not giving you enough attention?" She let her bottom lip fall in a fake pout, lowering herself even closer so her lips just barely grazed yours. "Well it looks now like you have to wait even longer.." She smirked before standing back up straight, a small whine escaping past your lips as she moved herself backwards.

"But–"

"You see, good girls get rewarded when they prove just how good they really are. However, you've been bad, and deserve to be punished for the way you acted today, which leads me to have to make some crucial decisions." Her hands slipped behind her back, gliding the zipper down her back to let her dark dress fall smoothly to the floor. She left herself in her maroon undergarments that complimented her silky skin perfectly.

She had moved the small chair from the corner of the room to just a few feet in front of you before sitting herself down, with dark eyes trained solely on you. She looked elegant in her seated position. You couldn't tear your eyes off her, and you desperately wanted to touch her, but when you lifted a hand, Addison swatted it away.

"Tsk tsk," she shook her head in disapproval.

"Addy, please–"

"Begging already? Such a pathetic little slut.." Addison slowly opened her legs, revealing the dampened patch along her lace thong. "You craved my attention so bad, yet when I gave it to you, I got a brat in return. So, bend over my lap."

"W-what? Why?"

"For the first part of your punishment of course. Now come."

You shakily stood to your feet as you did what you were told, Addison wasting no time in pulling you across her lap with your ass lifted into the air. Without warning, a sharp smack to your cheek had you cry out at the sudden flash of pain until she used her hand to soothe the small ache.

"For each spank, I want you to apologize. I want to hear how sorry you are for being a bad girl today. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded your head, which only caused Addison to send her hand flying back down to your bottom.

"Use your words."

"Y-yes, mommy! I can do it!" You whimpered out as you adjusted your body to be more comfortable, unsure of how long you would be left like this.

"That's all I needed to hear.."

Her palm hit your ass with a sharp smack, almost surging you forward that had you holding yourself as steady as you could.

"I'm so sorry, mommy! I just wanted you so bad.."

Another smack, to the opposite cheek this time.

"Please, I'll be so good for you!"

Her hand smoothed down her next spot of choice before the next slap to your ass left a reddened spot along your bare skin.

"I-I won't be a brat anymore. I'll be your good girl. No more sas, I swear! I'm sorry!"

After Addison gave your ass a red tint, she let up her harshness, but she still wasn't satisfied with your begging. Her eyes glanced between your legs, noticing a prominent wet patch against your lace panties. She didn't think you'd be turned on as much as you were with this punishment, but she sure was glad you were, which only made her not want to stop just yet, forcing her hand down again with another smack.

"What are you sorry for?" She deliberately questioned, curious if you would apologize for every action.

"I'm sorry for talking back to you at work, and for being sassy towards you and everyone else all day. I won't do it again!"

Her hand forced its way down, smacking your ass cheek one last time before easing you to your feet. Your legs were shaking as you stood, face completely flushed, and eyes so dilated that Addison could barely see any color left.

"Not good enough. Sit back down."

You whined, but did as you were told, Addison eyeing your shaky legs with a heavy smirk. As you sat back down, you couldn't help but wince at the pain that shot up your spine from the soreness that now covered your ass. Eyes prickled with tears as you forced yourself to sit through the pain.

"My bad little slut forgot one very important detail in that apology, which I find to be the most naughty action of all.."

Your eyebrows knitted as you ran your head through the day, unsure of what you did that you could have possibly forgotten to apologize for. Addison spreading her legs in the chair tore your thoughts away as she slid a hand down her chest. Your mouth fell agape as she cupped her covered pussy with a quiet moan.

"Since you seemed to forget what it was.. You rolled your eyes at me, remember that?"

Your eyes widened when you knew exactly what she was talking about. You had never rolled your eyes at her before, and now you were about to get punished once again for being a brat towards the redhead who had started playing with herself through her wet fabric.

"I-I didn't mean to.."

"Oh, but you so did," she toyed with you, fingers moving her panties to the side to reveal her glistening pussy coated in her arousal. Your mouth watered at the sight, her legs spread wide open with her fingers gliding along her folds. She knew you were already wet, and she could only imagine how soaked you were at the fact that she was playing with herself right in front of you.

You couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together when the redhead let out her first moan as she easily slid two fingers past her entrance. She had only just started and you were already in dire need to touch her. It took everything in you not to move from your seat, as it would only make things worse for you. So you sat, and watched as Addison's mouth fell agape while sinful moans filled your ears.

"Mmm, you look so pretty sitting over there, it's a shame..."

Addison's free hand found her tit, pushing the thin lace out of the way for her fingers to pull at her nipple. You couldn't help but let out a small whine when Addison picked up her pace, the wetness between her thighs mixing with her moans was almost too much for you to handle. You were aching to do more than just sit and watch, but Addison took pleasure in watching you squirm.

"Addy please," your fingers grasped at the duvet below you to keep you from pouncing at her. "Let me help you. I want you so bad.."

The redhead casually ignored your plea as she played with her pussy, fingers easing out of her to rub her clit. Her hips just slightly bucked at the new sensation, feeling herself growing closer to her release.

"Mommy... I'm your good girl, please. I won't roll my eyes anymore. I won't be sassy. Just please- please let me taste you."

Addison wanted to make you wait longer, but the knot in her abdomen and the fact that you were being good, had her rethinking her decision. She loved the way you made her feel, the way you would treat her like a queen, and make her body fall apart with your skillful tongue.

"Fuck, come here.." she growled, you instantly falling to your knees to sit face to face with her dripping cunt. You didn't waste a second to bring your mouth to her core, lapping up the sweet juices along her folds before devouring her.

"You taste so good, mommy." You slightly pulled away to meet her gaze with your compliment.

Her manicured nails grabbed at your hair, wrapping her fingers lazily around your strands and pulled you back to her cunt. She desperately needed your mouth on her, tasting her, and fucking her until she came along your tongue.

Your hands grabbed at her inner thighs, forcing her legs to remain open, nails slightly digging into her smooth skin to leave crescent marks in their wake.

"Faster, princess.." You listened to her instantaneously, the consistency of her moans picking up letting you know you were doing it right. "Just like that! Fuck, I'm so close, don't stop."

You couldn't help but take in the sight before you, Addison's messy curls cascading over her face as her gaze was looking at you and only you, her free hand that continued to pull and twist at her nipple, and her perfectly toned stomach that rose and fell quickly as you felt her tighten around you.

"So close.." She hummed.

She bit her bottom lip in anticipation, feeling herself getting worked up to the point where she was about to be in shambles. Her hand gripped your hair tightly, guiding the movement of your head to help her reach that peak she was desperately chasing after.

Addison's eyes rolled to the back of her head, her vision going dark as she came with a hearty moan. Her hips threatened to buck from sensitivity, but your hands firmly held them still as you helped the redhead ride out her high for as long as possible. Addison whispered a plethora of expletives as you lapped up her release, taking your time in relishing the moment to lick her clean of her orgasm.

"You taste so good, mommy." You purred.

Addison let out a heavy sigh of relief as she caught her breath. You winced slightly as she pulled you up by your hair, fixing her position in the chair to pull you on top of her to straddle her waist. Her plump lips engulfed yours in a heated kiss, the woman humming at the taste of herself along your tongue.

Her slender fingers delicately slid from your hair to roam your body, fingernails skimming over your chest to continue their path down the curvature of your body to reach the spot she was wanting the most.

You gasped into the kiss at the sound of fabric ripping, Addison not bothering to slide the garment down your legs, but instead ripped it off your body to give her access to your center. The cool air hitting your dampened cunt sent a chill up your spine, eliciting a small shiver from you. Her fingers dipped between your thighs, and your hips couldn't help but surge forward, begging for fingers to fill you.

A whine left your lips, forcing you to break from the kiss when Addison slapped your cunt, sending a wave of pleasurable shock throughout your body. "You didn't think I'd give in that easily, now did you?" She teased with a heavy smirk.

Your bottom lip formed into a small pout. All you wanted was for her to relieve you of the tension you've been building while watching the woman pleasure herself.

"What's wrong, little one? Is mommy not giving you what you want?"

You shook your head no as you lowered your gaze from hers, only fueling Addison to send another sharp smack to your cunt, this time hitting just the right spot that caused a small moan to escape past your parted lips.

A firm hand wrapping around your throat, just barely below your jawline forced your gaze back to the darkened eyes of Addison.

"Words. Use your words."

"I'm sorry, mommy."

Another slap to your pussy had your back arching at a deeper angle, pushing your breasts further towards the redhead. The hand around your throat squeezed ever so slightly tighter.

"God, I love hearing you beg. That sweet innocent little voice of yours begging for mommy's touch. Isn't that right, baby? You want me to touch you?"

"Fuck—" you nearly choked out, desperately in need of her. "Yes, please.." you begged, "Please touch me, mommy. Fill me with your fingers. Fuck me until I'm a shaking little mess."

"That can be arranged, sweet thing. Will you start being good for me?" Addison had pulled you in by your neck to engulf you in a heated kiss. A squeeze to your neck opened your mouth with a moan that allowed the woman access to slip her tongue into your mouth.

You mumbled into the kiss in response to her question, Addison not able to make out what you said but knowing you, that was a yes. She took it upon herself to not slap your cunt this time, but to run her fingers along your soaked folds dripping with arousal.

Your hips moved, in desperate need of more than just her small touch. Addison was messy with the kiss, leaving her stained lipstick across your own lips and across your jawline and she kissed her way across your face.

"Fuck me, please.." you begged, tilting your head to the side to allow Addison more access to your flesh. Her free hand gripped at your jaw, holding your head steadily to the side to keep you still as she marked her territory.

She smirked into your neck, two fingers sliding easily past your entrance. Your moans started off more quiet and inconsistent, gradually growing as Addison's fingers worked a steady pace between your thighs.

"That feels so good," your fingers raked through her messy curls, pushing away the few strands that fell in her face.

She sucked and nibbled across your bare neck, leaving fresh love bites in their wake as she marked you across your neck as much as she could.

The redhead made her way down your neck, placing bites along your collarbone. Her fingers curled delicately, hitting the soft spongy spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Mmm," you moaned out, grinding your hips with the movements of her fingers.

"Oh, I see," she purred, "You want to ride mommy's fingers, don't you sweet thing?"

"Yes, god yes! Please..."

The hand around your neck left to skim down your body to rest along the curve of your hip, guiding your body down as she rested her other hand to allow you to take control.

"Go ahead, baby."

Your hips jolted forward, eager to ride the fingers that curved deliciously inside you. Arousal dripped down her slender fingers, Addison gripping at your hip to keep you steady.

Your clit slid against her palm, only adding to the pleasure you were receiving from the woman beneath you. Fingers curled in her maroon locks as she found your chest, placing small kisses along the upper swell of your breast.

"Fuck, you feel so good inside me," you moaned out.

Her tongue flicked against your nipple, swirling around the hardened bud in a slow and skillful manner. Her lust-filled eyes glanced up at you as she pulled your tit in her mouth.

Your hips grew frantic with each passing second, eagerly chasing the orgasm you have been not-so-patiently waiting for.

"God, that feels so good!"

Her teeth grazed your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine. Your pace was desperate, and Addison's grip along your hip tightened, nails gently digging into your skin.

"You're so close, baby. I can feel it. Come around mommy's fingers like my good girl."

Your pace was relentless, fingers pulling Addison's hair gently as you chased your first orgasm.

"Fuck— I'm gonna—"

Addison's lips met with yours in a short but sweet kiss, your breathing momentarily stopping as your orgasm ripped through you. The redhead cooed and talked you through your first high as she kept her fingers still beneath you as your riding slowed down.

She sent small kisses along your cheek and jawline, surprised that your pace never faltered, yet began to pick up again once you came down from your high and chased after another.

Your hand dipped between your legs, taking her hand from your cunt so you can lower yourself down on her thigh. You didn't let go of her hand, but instead swiped your tongue along her slender fingers before dipping them inside your mouth.

"Such a needy little thing.."

Addison's gaze grew dark, watching intently as you sucked your orgasm from her fingers. You couldn't help but hum and moan as your slick pussy slid across her thigh with ease.

The friction gave you the pleasure you were looking for, your gaze not leaving hers as you sucked her fingers clean and let them go with a small ‘pop’.

She went to move her hand but you guided it back to your throat, wanting her to keep some kind of control over you. Her eyes flicked to your lips as you let out a deep moan when her fingers tightened around your throat.

Your breathing was heavy, hips grinding against the thickness of her thigh that had you a moaning mess. Addison felt herself growing wetter at your sounds. Your growing moans were heaven to her, and she loved hearing those sinful sounds coming from beyond your lips.

“Do you want to come, baby?”

“Mhm..” you nodded your head frantically, juices sliding down Addison’s thigh as you grind against her.

“Then come for me. Come along mommy’s thighs. Let me see that pretty face of yours as you unravel in front of me.”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress the needy moans that were threatening to grow louder as you felt the familiar pit in your stomach.

Your orgasm ripped through you, legs quickly beginning to shake around Addison’s thigh as your hips continued to move back and forth as you rode out your high for as long as possible.

Addison wanted to savor this moment, eyes memorizing every feature and gesture you made as you came. She admired your face, the way your eyebrows were knitted tightly, cheeks completely flushed, and lips spread wide open as you moaned out.

You had to reposition yourself, allowing your legs to tightly close as your head fell in the nape of Addison’s neck. Your breathing was fast and heavy, small whines leaving your lips as you pressed your thighs tightly together.

“You did so good for me, princess.”

Addison kissed the top of your head, hand soothingly running up and down your back as you attempted to catch your breath.

It took you a few minutes to return back to normal, but your shaky legs hadn’t gone away, knowing they would be like jello if you tried to stand.

Exhaustion was quick to find you, the long day and multiple orgasms hitting you like a truck. The small yawn you involuntarily let out alerted Addison of your exhaustion. Her hand dipped to your chin, lifting your face so she could get a look at you.

Your eyes were freshly glazed over and it was clear you were done for the day.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed, baby. Does that sound good?”

You nodded your head with a small smile, Addison pressing her plump lips against yours in a sweet and tender kiss. She lifted you up, carrying you in her arms to your side of the bed to set you down gently.

She gave you a quick peck to your forehead as she left for the bathroom, tidying herself up, and getting out a fresh rag to clean you up. As she returned, she couldn't help but playfully roll her eyes with a massive smile that spread across her face when she saw you with your eyes closed and now on her side of the bed.

Addison couldn't help but laugh to herself that she was actually successful with fucking the attitude out of you.

She was gentle and careful with cleaning you, before settling herself in the bed behind you, pulling you flush against her chest as she got herself comfortable to sleep the night away with you in her arms.

#addison montgomery #addison montgomery x reader #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot #greys anatomy

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in-my-shifting-era · 1 year

Text

The Jacket

Part 2

Spencer Reid Fluff

Summery: when in Boston for a case in mid January reader regrets not being a warmer jacket.

Authors note: this is my first time I’m writing for Spencer Reid so please be nice if it’s not good. Comment or message me if you have any requests!

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You really thought the sweater you wore would be enough when you were sent to the crime scene with Reid. You should have expected it wouldn’t be when you heard you would be in Boston in the middle of January. Now you were left shivering as you tried to keep the media at bay.

You sighed lightly as snow started to fall around you. Shortly after Spencer joined you where you stood and spoke softly. “You look cold y/n. You know the average temperature in Boston in the winter is 43.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Right now the temperature says it is 30 degrees. Just below the temperature for snow.”

Some would find Reid’s statistic fact annoying at this time but it makes your heart swell as you look up at his lanky frame. “It feels like it’s colder. This sweater isn’t keeping anything warm.” You hug yourself gently as you look back towards the crowd.

After a brief moment of silence you start to speak again when you feel something being draped over your shoulders. You look fully toward Spencer and see him with one less layer on. “I wore a thick turtleneck today so take my jacket.” You know to Reid this is just a kind gesture to keep you from shivering in the cold. Yet you can’t help the blush that flushes your cheeks at the action.

“Thank you Spence.” You see a shy smile form on the young doctors face as he gives you a acknowledging nod. You dance in the warmth of your new jacket melting every time Spencer’s scent left on his jacket take over your senses. You don’t get to live in this moment long because you get pulled away to answer some questions to the press.

You finish up with the press and walk over to the SUV taking the brief moment of silence to check your phone. You’re quickly brought back to reality when Derek speaks behind you. “Hello Dr. Reid; you look like you’ve shrunk a bit.” You turn slowly and look around to see just what Derek is talking about. This action only makes him laugh lightly. “Did you get cold in the Boston weather y/n?”

You nod lightly use to Derek’s teasing. “I did. The snow may have something to do with that though.” Derek puts his hands up in defense. “Don’t get sassy with me. I was just wondering if that’s how you get your jacket Dr. Reid.” Your face of confusion turns to one caught in the act. You know that he knows you’re wearing Spencer’s jacket.

“How did you know this was Spencer’s jacket?” Derek laughs lightly. “You didn’t look at what the kid put on you? It’s the jacket Garcia made us all for Christmas with our last names on the back.” You’re heart swells at the thought of wearing something marked with Spencer’s name. Dereks laugh brings you back to reality. “You two are so hopelessly in love it’s kinda sickening.” You look down blushing a deep shade of red hearing him talk about your crush on Spencer. Your blush tried into a love sick smile as you think maybe Spencer wasn’t just trying to keep you warm on this snowy day.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years

Text

Long Day

Summary: you help Bob unwind after a long day.

Warnings: Not much plot, just porn. Thigh riding, daddy kink, edging, soft dom!Bob but also he's kinda mean? Spitting, choking, Dom/sub roles, praise kink, some Hangman slander (sorry, I love him), Sassy Bob at the end. Sorry, this is pure filth, I should probably go to church or something.

This was created for @wicked-blathers' Kink or Treat challenge! Thanks for letting me write straight up porn.

The sound of the door to your bungalow house opening didn't startle you. After all, it was around the time when your husband was scheduled to get home.

Even your multiple animals knew that, as they hopped off the bed to go greet Bob. So you stayed put, continuing to read.

"Darlin'?"

The first thing you noticed was that Bob was still in his flight suit. That meant he drove straight home instead of showering at base. His normally well-kept and gelled hair was gone, replaced by loose curls that fell over his forehead. His breath was ragged, as if he had just run several miles.

And his eyes.

You could hardly see the beautiful blue hue. They were dark. Nearly black.

"Long day?" You asked.

Bob simply nodded his head, the corners of his mouth turning slightly upright, his brow still knitted together, jaw still tense.

"Can you talk about it?" You put your book down, motioning to the space next to you on the bed. Certain details Bob couldn't share, like exactly why he had been asked back to Top Gun, other than for an important mission.

Bob simply nodded his head as he closed the door before walking over to your shared bed. He sat down, leaving room between your bodies.

You placed a hand on his, giving him time to think. The last couple days of training had been hard. You also knew that the last thing Bob wanted to do was make you worry.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Your eyes scanned his body, looking for any marks or injuries. If it was serious, you would have received a call from the doctor on base. But the nature of Bob's job was quite intense and it was common for some days to be tougher than others.

He chuckled as he shook his head, his long fingers tracing circles on the soft skin of your bare thighs.

Despite what everyone else thought, Bob wasn't quiet or reserved around you. He was comfortable opening up and saying what was on his mind.

So when he didn't, usually it meant something.

You leaned in, your forehead brushing against his, your fingers gently threading themselves in the soft curls at the back of his neck, "What do you need Robby?"

There was a pause, his eyes scanning your face, his pursed together in deep thought before he spoke.

"You. I need you."

His drawl sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded in understanding. It wasn't the first time one of you had asked the other of this. Although you worked in two different fields, you both had stressful jobs. Some days the only way to unwind, to forget about whatever had happened or was bothering you, was to take control elsewhere.

But you always asked first. Which was why Bob was still sitting, waiting for your answer.

"You have me. All of me."

Bob flashed that slightly crooked (yet absolutely endearing) smile before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

You climbed into his lap, now very thankful that the summer heat caused you to ditch your shorts earlier, leaving you in only a t-shirt.

His hands cupped the sides of your face, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. Your hands moved down to the zipper of Bob's flight suit, beginning to pull it down. A large hand stopped your's.

"Who said you could do that?" His voice was low and his words came out in a near growl.

So he had one of those days.

"I'm sorry." You put your hands behind your back, making a show of it so he could see.

The chuckle he let out went right to your core. His sweetness was what made you fall head over heels for him. You knew he'd never harm a single hair on your head.

But when he got like this? Deep, confident, dark, and demanding? You couldn't deny it.

You loved it just as much as you loved the tender kisses and gentle touches he gives you.

Maybe even more.

Bob moved so his long legs were now over the bed, his feet touching the floor. He placed his hands on your hips, moving you so that you were now straddling one of his thighs. A gasp fell from your lips as he pushed your hips back and then towards him, the thin cotton of your panties rubbing against the thick material of his flight suit.

"You can touch me darlin'. In fact, I'll let you even ride me," one of his large hands gripped your jawline, "but don't you dare make a mess."

You couldn't hold back the whimpers as he bounced his thigh up, meeting your core. His hands slide up your (his) t-shirt, squeezing your breasts. With great ease, he found your nipples, his fingers tweaking and tugging on the hardening buds.

You were at his mercy and wouldn't have it any other way. He titled his head up, capturing your lips with his in a desperate kiss. Without any hesitation, you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth.

"Ya close?" Bob asked in-between sloppy kisses. You could only nod, your hips rocking against his thigh in a desperate attempt to chase that high.

"Good," was all he said before lifting you up by your thighs, pushing you down into the mattress. Your thighs clenched, that high drifting away from the loss of contact.

Bob shook his head at the pathetic whine you let out.

"You know the rules darlin'. When are ya gonna come?"

You knew the answer. Bob knew that. But that wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"Not until Daddy says I can."

The way his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply told you that was exactly what he wanted. He attached his mouth to your neck, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh.

"D-Daddy," you whined, your fingers clawing at the flight suit Bob still had on.

Getting the message, your husband quickly broke away from your neck to pull the suit off, placing his glasses on the nightstand, tugging the black t-shirt over his head before connecting his lips back to yours.

His mouth moved from your neck down to your breasts, sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. Your nails dug into his broad shoulders as Bob used your body like a canvas, painting bruises and marks onto it with his mouth.

Your hips couldn't help but buck into his, desperate for some type of friction. Bob shook his head, using his knees to spread your legs apart as he wrapped a hand around your throat, his fingers holding your head in place without adding pressure.

His fingers brushed against your clothed core. Bob couldn't help but chuckle upon hearing you gasp. His touch was like fire, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body.

His fingers began to draw circles against your clit, pressing in so you could feel it through the fabric of your panties. His other hand began to apply pressure around your throat, his deep blue eyes watching you intently.

"I bet I could get ya to come just from this," He whispered. That Midwestern drawl came out during heated moments like this. It added to the thrill of seeing him like this. To everyone else, Bob was quiet, reserved, and couldn't harm a fly.

But you knew what he was capable of. Not that he was mean for the sake of being mean. It came from a need to feel control, after years of being overlooked and underestimated.

You were more than happy to help feed that desire.

All you could do was whimper as he continued to use his thumb to apply pressure against your clit. His other fingers traced downwards, pressing into the fabric, into your entrance.

"Are ya? Are you gonna come just from this?"

You shook your head, barely able to get out more than a choked no. Your fingers clawed at his bare back, not caring what kind of mark they left.

Bob liked it and wouldn't complain.

He cocked an eyebrow in mocked confusion at your answer, "Why not? Isn't that what ya want darlin'?"

He loosens his grip on your throat, silently telling you that he expects a proper response.

Despite your head spinning, your body feeling warm and fuzzy as his fingers continue their tortured ministrations on your clothed cunt, you manage to get out a coherent response.

"C-can't come until Daddy says s-so."

"Such a smart girl," He cooed, the praise setting your skin ablaze.

His fingers continued to push you closer to that forbidden edge. You tried to prepare yourself for the eventual loss of contact, but that was so hard when his grip around your throat tightened, leaving you gasping for air.

So you couldn't help but whine pathetically when his fingers left the spot between your legs, leaving you once again so close to the edge, just needing a little more to push you over the ledge.

"Sorry darlin, but I like seeing you squirm. You're real cute when you can't come, ya know that?" He whispered in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You could ask for him to stop. To just fuck you and let you come all over his cock without any of this. Bob would do it, would drop the act as soon as you asked him to.

But where was the fun in that?

So instead you simply nodded your head, lifting your hips up as he pulled down your soaked panties.

"What'cha want baby? My fingers or my mouth?" He was letting you choose the method of torture.

How generous.

"F-fingers," you whined. His large hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs.

"Ya sure? Ya don't want my mouth on your pussy?" People thought because Bob didn't curse, he was pure and clean.

They were wrong.

You shook your head, fighting the urge to hide your face with your hands. Instead, your fingers dug into the smooth skin of his back.

"But I thought you liked it," He teased, "Ya always say how much ya love my tongue on your clit."

God, were folks fucking wrong about Bob.

"I-I do b-but," words were beginning to fail you. Your entire body was hot and all you wanted was for Bob to touch you.

"But what darlin'?"

"Don't… don't wanna come b-before D-daddy says I-I can," how you managed to get that one out as Bob's fingers began to trace along your slit, was beyond you.

He chuckled before pressing his lips to your temple, a gesture you normally found sweet and endearing, but in this moment, felt like confirmation of the torture you were about to embark on.

"Good girl." His words sent a shiver down your spine, his voice low, sending heat to your core.

It was something you two had tried out recently. At first, Bob was hesitant towards the idea, as it felt more like torture than pleasurable. But then he saw how you would squirm and wither underneath him, how he could reduce you to a blubbering, begging mess without even fucking you.

He loved it.

A high pitch whine fell from your lips as you felt him enter one finger, then two, stretching you out. He continued until his knuckles were at your entrance, the cool metal of his wedding ring (that he always wore at home) resting against your heated skin.

As he began to build up a rhythm, curling his fingers to quickly find that spot that sent you into overdrive, the heel of his hand began to brush against your clit as his fingers thrusted into you.

Maybe mouth would have been the less torturous method.

The pace Bob set up, how his fingers would stretch your walls, find that sweet spot with such precision, was torturous and delightful all at the same time. You never wanted it to end, he was ridiculously good with his fingers.

Your hips couldn't help but thrust up, trying to meet the heel of his hand to stimulate your throbbing clit.

Bob noticed this right away (noticing details was part of his job description). He couldn't help but smirk at the frustrated whine you let out when he angled the heel of his hand away from your body, your hips pathetically meeting nothing but air.

His lips turned to form a pout that mocked the one that adorned your face, "What's wrong baby? Ya need something from Daddy?"

All you could do was nod, your body desperately searching for that little extra stimulation to push you over the edge.

Bob laughed, low and dark, "That's too damn bad."

He withdrew his fingers, your aching cunt clenching around nothing. Without thinking, you squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the ache.

"Don't you fuckin' dare."

Bob placed his knees onto your thighs, keeping them apart. One of his hands had pinned your wrists above your head, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hips, effectively pinning you to the bed.

The two of you laid like that, the room filled with your panting. His stare was burning into your skin, but you couldn't look away.

"I-I'm sorry Daddy. I'm so sorry, I'll be good, I promise," you panted, desperate to convince him so Bob would let you come sooner rather than later.

He simply stared you down, his hand moving up from your hips to your jawline.

So you continued your begging, "L-let me show you. Please. I can be good Daddy, just let me show-"

"Stick out your tongue."

Your eyes widened at his demand because holy shit was he actually going to do this? It was something you had confessed to him after too many mimosas at brunch. The look of pure shock, almost borderline horror on Bob's face was quite the sight. You honestly were surprised he didn't pass out at the time, considering it was still early in your relationship.

Your tongue darted past your lips. His thin lips formed into a smirk as his face now hovered over your's.

Somewhere, your Feminist Theory 101 professor was screaming as you felt wettness, Bob’s saliva now on your tongue.

He watched as you swallowed, his eyes widening as he saw your throat bob. He too was partly in shock from what he just did.

"Color," Bob asked, his sapphire eyes studying every detail of your face, searching for any signs of discomfort.

"Green. So fucking green."

"It-it wasn't too much?" He asked, resembling the shy, bespectacled WSO you came to know, love, and marry.

"Not at all. But if you're still unsure, you could check down there to see how fucking turned on I am from that," you teased.

“Fuck,” was all he said before quickly moving down your body, his head now in-between your legs.

Before you could say anything, his tongue slowly moved through your folds in long, slow, licks. Your head fell backwards onto the pillow.

His mouth made you believe in a higher being. Before meeting Bob, you didn't know it was possible for someone's mouth to feel that good.

Bob didn't realize until he met you that some guys don't try to make their partners come from oral. And he was very quick to rectify that wrong the universe had somehow allowed.

Your hands dug into broad shoulders. You could see the muscles of his back contort as he gripped your thighs, allowing himself better access to your cunt.

He chuckled at the gasp you let out when his tongue flicked against your clit. Bob loved watching you react to his ministrations. Folks always assumed since you were the loud, outspoken one in public, it was no different in the bedroom. And while Bob didn't believe in the toxic idea of "needing to assert his dominance", it also didn't mean he never took control.

Which was while when he felt your cunt beginning to tighten around the one finger he thrusted into your entrance (you didn't deserve any, but he was feeling generous), when your whines increased in pitch, the muscles of your thighs clenching as his tongue lapped at your clit, he couldn't help but grin.

Only he got to see you like this. Only he got to make you like this. All desperate and whiney for something, anything. Trying so hard to hold back a pathetic whine from the loss of contact, full of desire for him. Your whole being aching for that sweet release. Bob loved watching the internal battle that played out in your big, beautiful eyes. How you craved him, yet you didn't dare you move or make your displeasure at not yet coming explicitly known.

He simply wrapped his arms around your waist, using his strength to roll onto his back, your body now on top of his.

"Show me."

Your head was spinning from the sudden movement, your body still trying to recover from Bob's mouth. All you could get out was a muffled "huh?".

"Show me how bad you wanna come," He grunted, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your hips. You could only stare blankly at him.

Bob was a pretty patient man, he grew up with four sisters and had eight nieces and nephews under the age of eight.

But you weren't the only one who wanted to come.

With a low huff, he grabbed your hips, moving you down until your soaked core was right above his hardened cock. Even with the fabric of his boxer briefs acting as a barrier between your skin and his, you could feel his erection.

Your head fell back as Bob's hands moved your hips back and forth, your cunt brushing over his thick cock.

"Daddy," you whined. You could feel his cock twitch at the name, which drove you wild. The guy who couldn't even muster up the courage to come up and talk to you at the bar had turned you into a withering mess, somehow making it impossible for you to speak coherently despite not having fucked you yet.

"One more edge darlin'," you whined at his words, the thought of having to rub yourself against his cock and not be able to come sounding like torture.

So you shook your head, "I-I can't, pl-please dadd-"

"Yes you can," His voice was soft, a large thumb coming up to your face to stroke your cheek, wiping away a tear.

You tried to shake your head, tried to simultaneously explain that you couldn't and to beg Bob to let you come.

Your ramblings were met with a slap to one of your thighs. His wedding ring added a layer of hot, twisted pain that made you moan.

"Either do it now or you're not coming until tomorrow afternoon."

He would do it. He had done it before and it was pure torture. Memories of Bob bending you over the kitchen counter, the couch, the stairs and never knowing if he was going to torture you with his fingers, mouth, or cock came flooding back.

Not today. You needed to come within the next twenty minutes, not twenty hours.

So you leaned forward, placing your hands on his defined chest for support. You grind your hips down, your aching core rubbing against his throbbing erection.

It was torment. It was the closest you had gotten to his cock and you could feel your walls clenching in a pathetic attempt to hold onto him. As your hips increased in speed, you found yourself clawing at his smooth skin, leaving marks that would be quite visible tomorrow.

Bob simply watched, enjoying you falling apart more than he'll ever admit. He could say something about the marks and hickeys you're leaving, but the small, smug part of him that he usually does a great job of managing and hiding was dominating today. Maybe it was the two hundred push ups he had to do or Hangman's comments.

Whatever the source, he wasn't stopping you.

"You're getting close, aren't ya?" He cooed. You picked up your head that was resting against his chest, nodding weakly.

"Ya gonna come?" You shook your head, though your hips kept moving. It felt so fucking good, the way the material of his boxer briefs provided a delicious friction against your clit.

“You should stop soon darlin. Don’t wanna come before Daddy says ya can, right?” You nodded at his words, though that didn’t stop you from moving your hips back and forth.

Which is why Bob didn’t feel bad bringing his large hands up to your neck, his fingers able to completely cover the skin from your jawline to your collarbone. The action forced you to look at him, into those blue eyes that drove you wild.

“C’mon darlin’. Be a good girl f'me, will ya?"

You whined as your hips stilled, moving your body off of your husband and onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

"Robby," you whined and that's what did it. Not sir, not Lieutenant, not Daddy, not Bob. But that nickname you bestowed onto him the night you two first met, the name only you get to call him, no one else. The way it roll off your tongue so naturally, like you were always made to call him that, how it went with your bright smile and beaming eyes, was what made Bob realize that even though he couldn't physically bring you the stars and the moon, he'd spend the rest of his life finding and bringing you equivalents he deemed worthy enough for you.

That's what led him to quickly tug off his boxers, to open the drawer of the nightstand so hard, you're pretty sure he pulled it all the way out, with the clatter of everything falling to the bedroom floor except the bottle of lube he was clutching. But your head was far too fuzzy to think about that right now.

You whined his name again as he hovered over you, lining his cock to your entrance. Your hands reached out, desperate to hold onto him.

"I know, I know, been such'a good girl," He praised as he pushed push your folds. The moan forming in your throat tore through you as you felt him stretch your walls, inch by inch.

"Please, please, I need," you couldn't even finish your sentence. What did you need? Release? Reprieve? Reassurance?

Bob grabbed your thighs, lifting them so they were around his waist. The new angle made his thrusts even deeper, causing your moans to increase in volume.

"I know, you've been so good for me. Let go darlin'," his voice was soothing.

You threw your head back, letting him thrust into you. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge you desperately craved. Your fingers dug into his back, heightening his pleasure.

Bob couldn't help but chuckle, "Ya gonna leave marks on me darlin'. What am I gonna tell folks tomorrow?"

"T-that you fuck your wife so -s'good."

Maybe it was the fact the most coherent sentence you had been able to verbalize since he got home was praise for him. Maybe it was the fact that after two years of marriage he still couldn't get over the fact you were 'his wife'.

Whatever it was, it made him determined to push you over that edge. The sound you let out when his fingers rubbed tight circles on your clit was probably going to get you a noise complaint. That is, if folks were able to hear it over the sound of skin slapping against skin and the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust.

“Rob-Daddy- I-”

“Come.” HIs voice was gruff and hoarse, juxtaposing the gentle kiss he gave to your forehead immediately after his order. With one more thrust, you fell apart on his cock.

You were chanting something as your walls clenched around him. Perhaps it was his name, perhaps it was one of the several nicknames he liked to be called in bed. Perhaps it was words of thanks for granting you permission to come. Your thighs trembled as Bob fucked you through your high, heightening the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

His fingers continued drawing circles on your clit, using your wetness. Jolts of pleasure shot through your body, sensitivity quickly overtaking your cunt. You threw your head back. It wasn’t a shock Bob hadn’t come yet. Despite how quickly he blushed and stammered when he first met you, he had a surprisingly high stamina.

Your hands threaded through his hair, gripping the sun kissed locks. It only spurs him on; how you whine your name, how you coated him with your slick, how much you came, Christ, he knew the sheets would have to be changed after this. The pain brought on by you tugging on his hair led him to grip the headboard of your shared bed, allowing him to thrust into you even deeper.

“Gimme one more. Ya can do that f’me, right darlin’?” The noises you made in response were incoherent as you shook your head. The corners of your eyes were blurred with tears, something that Bob would never admit out loud how it made his cock twitch.

Bob pulled his head away from yours, studying as if he was analyzing an F/A-18 rather than the face of his wife. Like hell if you were only going to come once in bed with him. That never happened before and it sure wasn’t going to start now. He just had to push you over.

“Open.”

Your eyes widened, your walls around his cock clenching at the command. Bob couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of your parted lips. His large hand that was gripping the headboard came down to your cheeks, his fingers gripping the sides of your cheeks.

His saliva landed directly in your mouth. You swallowed with zero hesitation, your eyes never leaving his.

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle. He wasn’t one to talk about his personal life at work; hell, he was pretty sure only Phoenix and Rooster knew he was married. But he knew the assumptions folk made about him, he had been dealing with it for most of his life.

He could only imagine their shock upon learning that Robert “Baby on Board” Floyd just made his wife come again by spitting in her mouth.

He’d never get tired of watching you come. You were so pretty with your parted lips, half-closed eyes, a pure look of bliss adorning your beautiful features. How your fingernails would dig into the skin of his shoulder at the exact same time your cunt seized around his cock.

He came with a hard thrust, grunting as he felt himself empty inside of you. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, panting in an attempt to catch his breath. Your nose nuzzled against his temple, finding solace in his breathing.

“Ya okay?” He asked into your neck. You nodded your head, but that didn’t stop him from looking at you, studying your face for any signs of discomfort, “What’s my name?”

You smiled, “You’re my Robby.”

Bob smiled, the tips of his ears turning red at your affection. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Let’s get cleaned up, ‘kay?” You nodded your head, wrapping your legs around his waist. You buried your head into his neck.

“Oh….I’ll….fix that later.” You lifted up your head to see what your husband was referring to.

Bob had indeed, in his haste to get the lube, pulled out the entire drawer from your nightstand, the contents spilling out onto the floor.

“How bad of a day was it?”

“Hangman’s an asshole,” was all he said as he carried you to the bathroom.

“Probably because he doesn’t get fucked,” You laughed as Bob placed you on the toilet while he turned on the water to the shower.

“That man will not shut up about what he does after work, I think it’s just a personality defect.” Bob reached a hand out towards you. You took it, allowing him to pull you into the shower.

“Yeah, he talks about getting laid, but has he ever come in with a scratch or hickey? Or does he just look unnaturally smooth and scratch free like a new Ken doll?” Your comment earned a laugh from Bob.

“And they say I’m the observant one,” He grinned as he moved you under the head of the shower. The warm water ran down your spine, you let out a happy hum against your husband's skin.

"I meant what I said earlier," you reached for the shampoo, standing on the tips of your toes to apply it to Bob's hair.

"If they ask about how you got those marks," you traced the evidence of your afternoon together, red marks and scratches that were scattered along his chest and back.

He chuckled, "I think they'd have a hard time believing it."

You shrugged, "Well, that's more telling of their performance in the bedroom."

—---------------------------

The next day of training went much better. He and Phoenix finally nailed the one manuver that had been tricking them up for the past few days. Training had gone well, Bob didn't have to hold anyone back from starting a fight (or seriously consider letting them go to continue said fight).

He checked his phone before putting it in his locker, his eyes lighting up at your text.

I think I finally perfected Babka. Want to be my test taster?

Bob sent you a thumbs up emoji, quickly putting his phone away so he could get into the shower and home to you.

He took off his shirt, not thinking much of it until-

"Jesus Christ Bob! Did you wrestle with a tiger after training yesterday?"

At first Bob didn't know what Hangman was referring to, but then he remembered.

The marks. Your marks, the ones you left across his back yesterday.

Which now everyone in the locker room had seen.

It wasn't like Bob tried to hide he was married. Hell, he wore his wedding ring on his dog tags. He just didn't feel the need to talk about his personal life.

"I relaxed."

Hangman scoffed, "By what? Reenacting the bear scene from The Revenant?"

Bob narrowed his eyes, "By fucking my wife really well. Not that you would know about that, considering I've never seen a single mark on you after your hookups."

Somewhere in the locker room, Rooster was howling and Fanboy was yelling (what Bob was pretty certain was "Get him Bobby!). It was hard to tell with Coyote and Payback's laughter.

—------------------

"My honorary call sign is what now?" You asked as you sliced in the babka.

"Tiger." The smirk on Bob's face told you everything you needed to know.

"They also want to meet you now," He added before taking a bite out of your latest baking adventure.

"Can I tell Bagman to shove it?" The way you asked so innocently was one of the many things Bob loved about you.

"I'm not gonna stop ya. I'm the quiet one, remember?"

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