#and Ghost has to finally be the one to reach out and ask for touch

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Ah. It is very hard to not have a person that is My Person. I've always had one, or- thought I did. Perception being everything, that void was filled.

My first one I lost when I was still very young, and I held onto her and waited for her for decades before allowing myself to realize she hadn't been there since elementary school. My loyalty and love so deep, waiting on a ghost.

Another dear Person I kept and kept and kept despite their toxicity and leech-like behavior. They were my Friend, but 18 years on I finally had to cut them loose when I admitted to myself that I was hanging on to someone who would never do anything aside from drain me.... financially, time-wise, emotionally. It was hard putting my foot down. But that one was my choice.

Then there was... my Person. The one I met in college, who asked me to fake-date her to get back at her friend's for not telling her that they knew her boyfriend was cheating on her. I fell for her, even knowing she wasn't queer, and even when our deep and intense friendship was suddenly put on the back burner when she got herself a new shiny boyfriend, it took me ten years... ten years, to realize she wasn't my Person.

A Person isn't a lover, let me be clear. They're the one that's there for you. A deep friendship, sometimes more, certainly, but not all of these People have been Loves.

So watching her get married was a joy, though I had wanted more, and letting that romantic emotion go away was a easy. You see, I still thought she was my Person. And just this month, after years of not getting reached out to, of me doing all the work to see her, just this month did it finally click in, a decade after thinking this was my Person, that she isn't. She never has been. I just thought she was.

I have a partner I'm married to. I have children. I have family that love me. I am blessed and grateful in many ways.

But I have no friend who is my Person. The one who sees me. The one who thinks about me as often as I them, who plans together and cares the same way.

I have a lot of ghosts of people I thought were more than they ever were.

And today, scrolling through my phone contacts and my social media I really had it hit home.

I don't have... anyone, anywhere close to the brief flickers of closeness I'd had with these ghosts. Online friends who I've never met in person come as close as possible, but no one I can touch. Or invite over. Visit, hug, plan things with, talk to in person.

I am surrounded by the ghosts of those who moved on, and the transparent holograms of friends I cannot reach.

It is.... lonely.

[wispscribbles]

I love your ghost design. I wanna squeeze him :⁠^⁠)

If no hug then why hug-shaped???

[shotmrmiller]

When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.

And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—

"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.

When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"

Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."

The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."

Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.

--

Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.

But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)

His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.

"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."

It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.

And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.

The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.

He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—

And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."

He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.

The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.

He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.

Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.

Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.

Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.

Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.

"Mornin' LT."

A grunt is his only reply.

Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.

"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."

He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."

Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.

"When?"

[snootlestheangel]

Post-MW3 but Laswell had only faked Soap's death, all under the guise of it being the better thing to do.

Let Makarov believe he had actually killed one of the 141. He'd walk away from that thinking he had a small victory and wouldn't feel pressured to make his next move soon. Laswell wanted him to go into hiding, wanted the team to take the time to figure some things out.

She obviously hadn't anticipated the loose cannon of Captain Price, and him killing Shepherd threw a wrench in everything.

A few months have gone by, and Laswell gets a hit on some activity from Konni group. She tells the team they'll meet her informant there.

Obviously, there's a bit of a big blowout when they realize John 'Soap' MacTavish is the informant. Ghost takes it the worst of all of them, but he doesn't outwardly react. Not in front of Soap. But when they're alone with Laswell to ask her "what the fuck?" Ghost lets it all out.

He's cussing up a storm, saying it was all bullshit, that they should have been in on it.

"Who in this room knows what it's like to be dead better than anyone else? Bloody hell where the fuck do you think "Ghost" comes from?"

And Ghost doesn't ever talk directly to Soap or Laswell the rest of the time they're working on their latest Intel. It's upsetting to everyone, especially Gaz cause he isn't quite sure what the fuck has happened to his team. But Soap seems to be handling Ghost's cold shoulder pretty well, so Gaz keeps his distress to himself.

Finally, Ghost gets a moment alone with Soap. And Soap starts to leave, starts to give Ghost privacy because that's what Soap thinks he needs: some time and space to figure it all out in his head.

But Ghost stops him.

And the mask comes off, and Ghost slips away to reveal Simon. Simon who looks so small despite still standing over Soap.

And Soap is sorry, he's so sorry, Simon.

And he's begging for forgiveness and Simon has yet to say a word. So Soap falls quiet, lets the silence eat away at him as Simon stands there, jaw working as he thinks of something to say.

"I had lost you, Johnny."

It's such a quiet whisper, and it's so broken and it just stabs Soap through the heart. But he doesn't say anything back.

Instead he reaches for his Simon, reaches up to try and hold his head in his hands once again.

And Simon leans into the touch, allows himself a moment of softness during all this war. Allows this tender moment as he lets Soap hold him gently.

And it doesn't last long, doesn't need to. They're back with each other, in each other's hands, safe and breathing. That's all Ghost, all Simon, had ever begged for.

"The next time you die, I'm fucking going with you, you understand?"

"Of course, LT. You and me, aye?"

"Always."

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the ask here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

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

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He glares back at you skeptically. “Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he revvs the engine…  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better,” you murmur, satisfied.

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

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

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

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

[sserpente]

By Chance

Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.

The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.

The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.

The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…

A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!

Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving

A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.

The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.

You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.

“Cool bracelet.”

You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.

“Thank you.”

“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”

And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.

“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”

“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”

You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.

“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”

And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.

Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.

So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.

You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”

It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”

“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.

Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.

You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.

“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”

“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.

The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.

Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”

“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”

Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.

You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.

That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”

It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.

“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.

You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.

Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.

“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.

The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.

“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”

“I don’t think she will.”

“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.

“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.

“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.

“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.

It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.

Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.

“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”

“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.

As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?

Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”

“Sure. Bring it on.”

Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”

“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”

The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.

Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.

His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.

His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.

Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.

He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.

He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.

Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.

It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.

“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”

You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”

“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”

You hummed.

But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.

“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”

You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

“C’me here and prove it then.”

He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.

Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.

“I am craving ice cream right now.”

“You are?”

“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”

“At the mall?”

“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.

“We can always stop, you know that, right?”

“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.

You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.

“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.

You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.

It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.

Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”

The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.

Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.

After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.

And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.

When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.

You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”

He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.

“What? You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay but I need to get home.”

“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”

You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.

“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”

“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.

You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.

“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”

“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.

At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.

You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.

“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.

“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”

“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”

Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”

“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.

“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”

“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.

Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.

“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.

Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”

“Both.”

In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.

[secretlovezz]

First kiss with Tf-141 (& König)

♡-Simon "Ghost" Riley

He's so gentle like he's worried the touch of his calloused hands on the skin of your heated cheeks would break you

His face leans towards yours slowly so slowly it makes you want to pull his lips to yours so you can finally feel him but you let him take his time not wanting to push him

His nose is brushing yours and you lean forward on your toes to try and reach him but he he pulls back a little and your eyebrows furrow

"Can I kiss you?" He ask and it almost makes you laugh but instead you smile and beam up at him the corners of your eyes crinkling with happiness

You whisper, "yes," and you swear you've never seen the man move faster; his lips are on yours so quickly you just have to giggle the sound making Simon's heart ache with a force he's never felt before

Your lips interlock and move against each other and your tongue licks into his mouth and he makes a sound that has him pulling away and hiding his face into the crook of your neck

You laugh and he nips at your skin in an act of protest

He lifts his head once more to leave a wet peck against your lips and your already big smile grows impossibly bigger

¤—————————》

♡-John Price

He's also very gentle but he's subconsciously a little more desperate than Simon

He doesn't mean to press his lips to yours as quickly as he does but he has been waiting for this moment

He's been waiting to have you alone like this, been waiting for the affections to fall from your lips to give him a reason to break all protocol

John is prideful in his expertise in being patient but when he's with you he's the most impatient

So when he slotted his lips against yours in the middle of you telling him something after staring at your lips the entire time he surprises himself

But when you kiss him back he's no longer worried about his momentary impulsiveness

He makes haste in grabbing the back of your thighs to lift you onto his desk; your hands are tangling his short hair flipping his hat off of his head

He pulls apart after a few moments letting his forehead rest against your chuckling before placing a few wet peck against your now swollen lips

¤—————————》

♡-Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle kisses you softly oh so softly just to feel you against him

His lips meet yours Once, and twice in fleeting presses before pulling away and looking at you just looking at you

It's his favorite thing to do, to watch his pretty girl

He smiles when your brows furrow and when your lips downturn into a cute pout

You were so cute

Your stare into his silently pleading for another, longer kiss from him

You move onto your tip-toes trying to reach him but he pulls away and you whine loudly in frustration, he lets out a chuckle that's so sweet sounding it almost makes your knees buckle

Please? You whisper

Kyle's moving one of his hands to the back of your neck while his other travels down to your waist

He pulls you into your next kiss, your first real kiss with him

Your lips are so soft against him, so fucking perfect against his harsh ones that it makes him groan into your mouth, hands trying to pull you even closer to him

You just about whimper in response and pull away giggling

He continues to kiss you, his full lips planting themselves against your neck (he leaves a mark or two), a big grin never leaving his face

¤—————————》

♡-John "Soap" McTavish

God Johnny is desperate

He just needs you so bad, needs to finally feel your perfect lips against his, he swears it is all he's been able to think about lately

He tries to be casual, tries to be smooth about his need to kiss you but when you start inching your body closer to him his breath hitches and his heart beats a little faster

He gasps then smirks when you link your fingers into his belt loops and pull him forward letting your bodies collide

Your nose brushes against his and you rub your noses together for a moment just taking in this intimate moment with the man you care deeply about

But his hands are moving fast when they set on either side of your head pulling your lips to his feverishly

Johnny's lips move fast against your own, his tongue licking into your mouth

You try your best to keep up, just as desperate as he is

You laugh against his mouth when one of his large calloused hands gravitate towards your ass

When you separate he rests his head in the crook of your neck mumbling about how beautiful he thinks you are and how perfect you are for him

¤—————————》

♡-König

I like to imagine he'd be soft like Simon in a moment like this

He just wants to be near you just wants to hold you close

Every once in a while he'll press a gentle kiss to the top of your head or temple as the two of you sway to a slow song and mumble a sweet endearment in his native language, something about how lovely he thinks you are

His large hands are holding yours pressing the backs of them against his cheeks -his face is cold, it always is- and he presses a kiss to one of your knuckles

His kiss travels to your wrist them to the inside of your elbow then to your shoulder before he finally makes it to your cheek

He's overwhelmed with love, the way you smile at him makes his heart leap and he can't help but place his lips on yours

It's soft and slow just like the song just like that way the two of you are dancing and it's perfect

He hugs you when you part, still swaying to the beat of the song while he hums against the side of your face, your cheek pressed against his so you could feel the vibration

He places one more kiss on the warmth of your skin

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 1: Mile High Club

Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky start your honeymoon off the right way - by fucking in his private jet.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sex on a plane, semi public sex, fingering, fingering in front of an unsuspecting flight attendant, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: the start of our honeymoon adventure! I hope you all enjoy all the fun smuttiness! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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Bucky’s large, tattooed hand, adorned with a gold wedding band, is splayed on your thigh as his luxurious private jet roars to life, racing along the runway until you sense the drop in your stomach as it lifts off the ground and into the air.

Your heart begins to race as you feel Bucky’s hand slowly inch further up your thigh as the plane climbs higher in the sky. You take a deep, steadying breath as the force of the plane pushes your body back into your seat, appreciating the plush leather against your bare skin as Bucky’s electric touch reaches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your honeymoon hasn’t even technically started and he is already proving that he can’t keep his hands off you. Just one of the many reasons you married him in the first place.

“I can’t wait to finally have my wife all to myself.” Your newlywed whispers as his hand reaches the apex of your thigh, your heart races just that little bit faster at the prospect of being caught by the stewardess required to accompany you on the flight.

“Hmm, and what have you got planned for when we’re all alone my dear husband?” Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s cold finger slips underneath your panties and ghosts across your warm core.

A dangerously cocky grin curves onto his plump lips and even before he says the words to confirm your fate, you know he is going to make this a honeymoon you’ll never forget.

“I’m thinking about all the different ways I can ruin you and keep you stuffed full of my cum for the next four weeks.” He whispers seductively directly into your ear as his middle finger breaches your entrance. You inhale a sharp breath and bite the side of your lip as he pushes all the way in, smirking at you as if he knows this is just the beginning of every way he plans to ravage you.

A ding rings out through the cabin and before you can so much as flinch, an impeccably dressed hostess appears in front of you.

“We’re at cruising altitude, you can now unbuckle your seatbelts. Sir, is there anything you need?” She asks in a sweet voice, her tone indicating she either cannot see Bucky’s finger knuckle deep inside your dripping pussy, obstructed by the table in front of you, or is choosing not to acknowledge that fact.

Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you.

“To be left alone with my wife.”

The stewardess disappears as quickly as she materialised, but when Bucky adds a second finger to your pussy, stretching your walls by scissoring his fingers, your periphery goes blurry.

He picks up the pace, thrusting both fingers in and out of you relentlessly, his calloused thumb swiping over your clit with the perfect pressure he has learnt with experience does you in.

“That’s the spot, isn’t it darling.” He whispers in your ear as he curls his fingers to graze over the spongy patch inside you which makes you see stars. You nod but it’s superfluous, Bucky knows every inch of your body and is fully aware he’s got you figuratively and literally in the palm of his hand.

You grab hold of his veiny forearm to keep you tethered to reality as his motions bring you ever closer to floating off on a cloud of bliss.

“Cum for me.” Your husband demands. With a vigorous thrust of his fingers and a swipe of his thumb over your clit, the band in your lower stomach snaps and you comply with Bucky’s orders.

It is only once you’ve come down from your high that Bucky removes his fingers from your drenched pussy. He teases your lips with his slick covered fingers until you open wide and begin sucking on them, tasting your own sweet release.

“You know, I had a bed installed in the back of the jet just for this very occasion.” Bucky comments, nipping at your earlobe as you swirl your tongue around his fingers.

“What are we still doing here then?”

Bucky leads you to the back of the plane with your hand intertwined with his. As soon as the sliding door to the small yet private bedroom shuts behind you, Bucky’s lips attach to the column of your neck as every piece of clothing covering both your bodies gets thrown to the ground.

You’re held protectively in his arms as Bucky falls backwards onto the soft expanse of the bed. He kisses you assiduously as his hands roam your body, eventually making their way down to your ass, manhandling you to pull your body above his face.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe she’s all mine for the rest of my life.” Bucky hums before diving in. He starts with licking one long stripe up your slit, and you can feel his lips form a grin against you as your thighs tighten around his head. “You taste so good. So sweet.” He eats you out as if he’s been fasting for months, when in reality he was between your thighs on your wedding night less than 16 hours ago. He switches between his tongue being buried in your cunt, fucking up into your puckered hole and slurping obscenely, lapping up all the juices through your folds, twirling the tip of his tongue around your clit.

“Bucky, please, I-, please.” Your hands grasp onto his hair, tugging harder as his fingertips dig into the meat of your ass. The vibrations of his voice and the plane as it races through the atmosphere sends sparks firing up the base of your spine through your whole body.

“Are you desperate for your husband's cock, Mrs Barnes?” He asks teasingly against your folds, knowing referring to you by your new title will only make you wetter.

“Yes, Buck! I’m fucking dripping - need you so bad.” You plead with a sob, your pussy clenching around nothing, the ache within you burning like a forest fire which could only be quelled with him deep inside you.

Bucky’s soft lips place a feather light kiss to your sensitive clit before his strong hands grasp your hips tightly, lifting you onto his thick thighs. Your mind is dizzy with lust and pleasure, but Bucky’s dazzling blue eyes, the same ones that were the first feature of his you noticed the night you met, stand out clearly in your haze.

“Then take it. Take it like the good little whore I married. Take every inch of this dick and show me why it’s yours.”

Bucky’s large, rough hands don’t leave your hips as you stroke his thick length with both your hands a couple times as you lift yourself above him, rubbing his bulbous tip through your soaking folds. Lining yourself up with him, you press your hips back down on him slowly, feeling him fill you up to the brim.

You let out simultaneous groans, your eyes never once leaving Bucky’s as you focus on the sensation of how deliciously full and satiated you feel, how his eyes widen and lips fall apart is exactly like the first time you slept with him after making this formidable mob boss prove he’d treat you right.

You’d never forget the feeling of the first time he thrust into you, the fervour in which he worshipped your body and the way those ocean eyes gazed at you like you were the most precious gem he planned on treasuring for as long as you’d let him. This hardened man, who strikes fear in the eyes of the toughest of crime lords, is soft for you and only you.

It was the moment you truly understood what sex could be like - should be like.

You knew then that there was no one else for you. That you’d eventually marry him.

Both your hands find his strong, tattooed chest to steady yourself as you begin circling your hips, grinding against him, moaning at the sensation of your puffy clit rubbing the coarse hair at his pelvic bone.

“Oh God, Bucky, you’re so deep.” With Bucky’s strong hands assisting you, you push yourself up and sink back down on his cock. He lets you set your own pace, finding the right angle where he strokes all the right spots that makes your knees weak.

You can feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips, his mesmerised gaze fixated on how he’s filling you.

“Fuck, baby, look at you swallowing me whole.” Once you’ve built up a rhythm, one of Bucky's hands navigates to your breast where he flicks your pert nipple with his thumb, the other moving to where your bodies join, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The pleasure feels like it’s coming from all directions, from both externally and within you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time, every nerve firing with pure euphoria, threatening to send you straight to heaven.

“I’m so close, Buck…” A sob bubbles up your throat, all cells in your body swelling with immense pleasure. More than ever you can feel each ridged inch of Bucky stretching out your pussy, every sensation heightened as with each rock of your hips you hurtle ever closer to your second high.

“Go ahead, my love, let go. Cum on your husband's cock.”

Ecstasy overtakes your entire body at his permission, your eyes roll backwards, your whole body seizes and your bouncing motions stop as your walls flutter around his thick, veiny length. But Bucky doesn’t let you off that easily, he grabs both of your hips and starts fucking up into you hard and fast, prolonging and heightening your orgasm with each graze of your g-spot, making your legs shake and you scream out his name so loudly you’re sure the pilots can hear.

You collapse into his chest as his thrusts become staggered, closing in on his own high. Placing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw, Bucky grunts, moans your name and stalls within you, ropes of his cum painting your walls.

You tap his strapping chest three times as you both pant, catching your breath cuddling up to one another. I. Love. You.

His embrace feels like home, even thousands of feet up in the air. You’re certain that no matter where in the world you are, James Bucky Barnes will always be your safe place.

“Now, let's see how many more times I can make you cum before we land.”

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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot

[bluejeanstrash]

inspired by this and this (sfw)

tags: idol! seungcheol x idol! reader, reader is a certified brat, brat taming, seungcheol and reader are hooking up, use of oppa and hyung, suggestive conversation | wc: 1.4k

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

seungcheol swears he’s mistaken when he hears the first paparazzi call your name. but there it is again, and again, and by the time the crowd is screaming hysterically, he’s sure it must be you. he turns around as he’s being escorted into the venue to see you on the red carpet, waving to the cameras, posing with a poise only a professional idol has. you look jaw-droppingly good, and he curses at the fact that he only got to see you for two seconds.

things work out in his favour though. he reaches his table to see a place card with your name on it. idols seated together. not a bad marketing decision.

unlike the vibrant red carpet, the inside of the venue is dim, a velvety purple hue painting the room, and there’s a dj whose set suits seungcheol’s taste. it’s nice being here after months of hiatus, and it would be even nicer if you’d get here quicker. your group and seventeen were contemporaries, and pretty good friends, though in the public eye it seemed like you’d barely interacted. everyone wanted to keep it that way.

finally, after what feels like hours, you walk in, heads turning as you make your way to the table. he checks you out, slowly this time, blown away by just how incredible you look. your dress is sensual yet subtle, and his hands are itching to feel the fabric, and you under it. you’re a few steps away when you pause, spotting him, equally surprised to see him here. you would rarely cross paths during schedules, so this was unusual.

respectful bows are exchanged before you take a seat. a waiter comes by to drop off glasses of champagne, and you take that as an opportunity to check seungcheol out. all black everything with faded auburn hair looks very sexy on him. you make a quick decision about what you want him to do to you in this outfit.

‘i didn’t know you were attending. just you?’ he asks politely, in stark contrast to how impolitely he'd fucked you the last time you met.

‘just me. just you?’

‘and wonwoo. wonwoo!’ seungcheol waves him down as wonwoo makes his way to the table, taking a seat to your other side.

‘hyung, they need you for some solo press’ he informs and seungcheol is escorted away by his manager.

in the 10 to 15 minutes that seungcheol’s gone, you make small talk with wonwoo, touching on agency-approved topics like comebacks, dance challenges, and the like. topics that wouldn’t cause an internet meltdown when someone would inevitably zoom into your lips and try to breakdown every word being said.

what you’d actually been dying to discuss with wonwoo was his latest fling, and why he’d ghosted them, but that’s filed away for another day.

seungcheol returns with a second drink in his hand, and message for wonwoo ‘wonwoo-ya, they’re calling you now. do well’ he encourages like always.

seungcheol takes a seat beside you, close enough to dispel any negative rumours and far enough to not get pulled into dating ones.

‘have you finished press?’

‘what?’ you lean forward, the music too loud to speak at a distance. he does the same, almost placing his hand on your thigh but he catches himself in the last second, closing his palm into a loose fist and resting it on the table. seungcheol repeats his question, and you nod. yes, you’re done with press.

‘there are way too many cameras here’ he recognises a few fans who run his biggest fansites, all “discreetly” pointing huge DSLRs in his direction. he has to be careful not to accidentally touch you. not to do something that makes both your names start trending tonight.

‘are you done with schedule? what are you doing after this?’ he gives your dress a once over, trying to figure out how to undo it. there’s a complicated knot at the back which makes him eager to try.

the corners of your mouth curl into a playful smile before you take a sip of the bubbly. the sparkling gold goes down easy, and your words come out smooth,

‘you’

his eyes widen as the gulp of champagne he’s taking enters the wrong pipe, sending him into a tiny coughing fit. his eyes dart around the room to see if anyone caught that.

he takes another sip to recover, regaining any composure lost. then he leans in, plump cherry lips brushing against your ear ‘don’t say shit like that when we’re in public or i swear to god’

he sits back, adjusting the fall of his suit, and runs his fingers nervously through his thick hair which bounces right back into place.

this time you lean in completely, seungcheol refusing to meet you halfway, your earrings dangling with the motion ‘or what? what’s oppa going to do to me? punish me for being bad?’ you have a dangerous lilt in your tone that makes his dick throb.

‘stop. it.’ he mouths a warning. as if that has ever made a difference.

to seungcheol’s surprise, you had turned out to be quite a handful. you were different from your idol image. same, but different. he’d liked you instantly when you’d met outside work at his manager’s party and one thing led to another till you both had hooked up. he couldn’t believe it. you were two of his favourite things — a brat and a nasty slut combined into one gorgeous woman, and seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.

though, right now he could, because at this moment you were a pain in the ass and a throb in his dick, both of which he couldn’t afford. it’s not like he could refuse to engage in conversation with you. how bad would that look? so he stays still, listening to whatever lewd filth you’re whispering into his ear.

‘oppa, you know that thing you said you wanted to try with me? you wanted to put it inside my…while you turned on the vibrator in my other hole? can we try it? please?’ you leave your words vague, his imagination running wild. he’s going to kill you. it can’t get any worse, he thinks, but then the music changes.

an rnb song. no, an rnb song that’s no. 24 on your blended spotify sex playlist. in a biological reaction that would make pavlov proud, his cock starts to stiffen in his pants from the very first note. he catches your eye, looking away instantly. this is bad. this is very bad.

in an attempt to hide the tent that’s pitching in his pants, seungcheol crosses one leg over the other, taking further precautions to cover his crotch with a drape of his arms. it’s clear to you what’s happening, and if it wasn’t obvious enough he starts bouncing his knee, moving it a million times a minute. he’d read somewhere it gets rid of an unwanted erection, but it seems to be doing jack shit.

you lean back, amused, smoothing a flyaway hair, and elegantly throw your sleek locks over your shoulder to reveal a hint of your cleavage. seungcheol has spent a lot of time in there — kissing, licking, sucking…and shooting cum on that strip of skin. you know what you’re doing. he knows what you’re doing. the waiter who just walked past knows what you’re doing. seungcheol makes a mental note to tell his manager not to book you both at the same event ever again.

he tears his gaze away from your chest, focusing on the table in front of him. how many overlapping stitches can he see? he counts.

but you’re not done yet. no, you want him riled up and pissed off. you want that vein in his neck to pop. you wonder if you can run the risk of sliding your foot up his leg. probably not, and yet a second later the point of your heel slides up the inner seam of his pants, making him jump in his chair.

his jaw clenches, his neck tightens ‘that’s enough, you fucking brat’ he spits, forgetting to lean in or hide his mouth.

you grin impishly, taking a congratulatory sip of your champagne. he doesn’t know this but you’re soaking wet, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. riling him up always made you leak arousal in anticipation for the impending punishment.

unfortunately, before you can get a teaser of what’s to come, wonwoo returns, walking alongside your manager. you’ve done your part, made your appearance, and it’s time to leave, he says. you say your goodbyes, first to wonwoo, and then turn to seungcheol who lets out a small huff of air before standing up. he smiles for the cameras and bows, glaring at you as you lock eyes and whispers,

‘you’re in so much trouble’

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 10

part 1 | part 9 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

When they get to Eddie’s trailer, Steve’s mom is sitting on the couch, eyes unblinking as she watches the TV.

There’s just static on the screen.

“Steve?” she slurs when she finally realizes they’re there. Sways a little when she stands. There’s a dreamy quality to her voice, a blank look on her tired face: agreeable but distant, a smudge of campfire smoke curling far over the trees.

Double-dosed her pills again. Jesus Christ.

“Oh, Stevie, baby, it was just awful.” She reaches out for him, and he wishes he could find comfort in the way she cups his elbows with delicate hands. Wishes he could lean into her touch and offer comfort in return, but her tone is so dull and mild that bile rises in his throat. Chemical calm bullshit, and Steve has had enough.

“Ma, just…” he sighs, shrugging her off. Scrubs a hand over his face. Too young and too old for this. “Just go home, okay?” The street is quiet again, all the neighbors tucked back in their houses now that the show has run its course. He doesn’t think anyone will notice her stumbling across the road. “Get some rest. I’ll be over in a bit.”

“Sure, baby.” He leads her to the door, and she turns there on the threshold, eyes glassy and unfocused; looks through him like he’s a ghost. Then her gaze shifts around the room — the hats, the mugs, the clutter; the lived-in explosion of color that Steve’s annoyed he likes so much — like she’s just seeing it all for the first time, and absently, she murmurs, “This place is dreadful, isn’t it?”

“Mom.”

“Hmm?” she asks, but she’s already drifting out the door.

Steve’s face is on fire. He stands there for a moment, just staring dumbly out into the dark. What the hell is wrong with her??

Behind him, Eddie snorts. "Oh, she’s on the good shit, huh?”

Steve whips his head around. Eddie’s eyes are full of mirth, his dimple peeking out, and it startles a laugh out of Steve. He thinks maybe he’d take offense if he weren't so busy being mortified.

But also, like.

It is a little funny.

Or maybe it’s so unfunny that it circles back around.

“Jesus, man,” he huffs, “Sorry. I don’t— I don’t know why she…”

“S’fine,” Eddie says with a casual flick of his wrist. Seems like he means it. He rocks back on his heels, hands in his back pockets, just sort of eyeing Steve up. Assessing. Running his tongue over his lips. They're big, for a guy's. “…You want a beer?”

“Fuck.” That sounds so nice. “Yeah. Please.”

“Have a seat.”

Steve takes the offer when Eddie nods at the couch, too tired to do the whole song and dance of ‘oh heavens no, I couldn’t possibly impose.’ Who’s got the energy for that?

The couch is old. His skull thuds against the un-cushioned back when he sinks down into it, but he’s too tired to care. Worn out as the lumpy springs under his ass, the frayed fabric beneath his arm. A wave of exhaustion rattles his bones, reverberates in his teeth. He thinks he could sleep for sixteen years.

Eddie clears his throat when he comes back with the beers, a sudden cautiousness about him as he hands Steve an unopened can like Steve might claw him in return.

"Sit down," Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm not gonna bite."

Eddie makes a strangled noise. The springs bounce as he plops onto the seat beside Steve, sitting sideways with one leg up on the couch between them, his arm resting on the back. "So, ah...." He gives a wavering chuckle; pulls a lock of hair across his face to hide himself. "Is this the part where I formally apologize for trying to knife you?"

Ugh. No the fuck it isn't. Steve’s too drained for it, absolutely at capacity for more serious shit this evening, thanks; and besides that, it was...

Whatever. It's old news.

Instead of giving a real answer he reaches into his pocket, snicks his own knife open and pretends to brandish it at Eddie, asking, "Eye for an eye?"

Eddie's eyes go huge. "Dude, what the fuck??"

"Just fucking with you," Steve laughs, lifting the can up to his mouth. "But there; now we're even. Shoulda seen your face."

“Ah—!” Eddie’s jaw drops in offense. “Ex-cuse you!”

God, of course he’s more dramatic than all the kids combined.

Steve jabs the knife into his beer, pops the top and starts to chug, throat working as he gulps the whole thing down in four big sips. It tastes like frothy, bitter piss, but it's cold and it soothes the scratch in his throat.

Eddie lets out a low whistle. "Well, goddamn, Harrington."

"Is that supposed to impress me?" "You're not?"

Steve grins and wipes his mouth.

—

They get drunk pretty fast (Eddie refused to be upstaged in his own house, so one shot-gunned beer became two became four), and somewhere along the line the conversations get weird; hilarious and dumb. Saying shit just to say it, chipping away at the ice wall between them with bare fingernails.

Eddie hollers some shit like: "What are you even talking about?" and his arms fling out wide, almost spilling his beer. "The deep sea is so much scarier than the mountains!"

"Are you joking?" Steve throws back. "The mountains have, like, giant cats and shit! Birds of prey with wingspans the size of your van."

"Yeah, and the deep sea has eldritch monsters that live in volcano vents and hunt with no eyes and eat their young for fun or whatever the fuck. You ever heard of an anglerfish? Or a phantom anglerfish? Tell me that shit isn't right out of a Lovecraft story."

"A what story?"

"How am I the one who hasn’t graduated yet?"

Then later:

“Dude, Batman? Seriously?”

“He’s the world’s greatest detective!”

“He’s a greasy little weirdo. You only like him because of your whole…” Steve gestures at his tattoos.

“Whatever, Spiderfan.”

And later still:

"Okay, okay, okay. Fuck, marry, kill... Shit. Y’know this would really be easier in a town where so many people hadn’t died."

Steve grimaces at himself; expects Eddie to call him out. It’s too insensitive, too soon.

Eddie just cracks a grin and suggests, "Fuck, marry, revive?"

—

They talk for a long time. Eddie's kind of charming when he's not being a dick. A nice smile, deep laugh lines. Steve can almost see why the kids are so obsessed with him. He's never met someone so animated; feels like he's talking to a Saturday morning cartoon. The conversation mellows out after a while, and he doesn't realize he's dozed off until Eddie shakes him awake.

"Hey, man," he says, voice just above a whisper. "I'm going to bed. You're welcome to crash on the couch, but, uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I mean, your back is probably gonna hate you for it."

Steve rubs his fists against his eyelids and blinks himself awake. Feels jittery and weird, yanked out of the start of a bad dream. When he looks up he sees that he’s got his shoes up on the couch; and there’s dried drool on his chin, and all at once he feels embarrassed, off-balance and panicked like he missed the last step down a steep flight of stairs. Of course he's overstayed his welcome. He's being fucking rude. "My bad," he mutters as he jumps up off the couch. Stands up way too fast, makes his vision tilt and swirl. "I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie reaches for his arm. "Dude,” he says, “you're fine. You can stay if you want.”

Steve moves out of his hold. “Nah, get some sleep; I’ll see ya around.”

Eddie frowns at him, a little furrow between his brows, and somehow Steve feels like he’s in the wrong, like Eddie isn’t the one who just kicked him out.

Like maybe Steve’s just running away for a second time in one night. Always back and away, this guy.

Who's the fucking coward now?

—

part 11

y'all know the drill, tagging whoever commented on yesterday's installment provided your tumblr settings let me <;3 @thealwithnoname @violetsteve @manda-panda-monium @stuftzombie @bronwenmarie @aliea82 @slowandsteddie @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @ahsokatanoss @steveshairspray @hallucinatedjosten @estrellami-1 @ppunkpuppyy @stevesbipanic @silver-snaffles @yourmom-isgay @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @zombiecreatures @im-a-disgrace-to-humanity @faery-god @hotluncheddie @runninriot @a-little-unsteddie @teatimeeverybody @newtstabber @pearynice @hellion-child @cuips-not-cute @steddieas-shegoes @steves-strapcollection @loguine-linguine @griefabyss69

[wol-fica]

LET US FUCK TARA ON THE COUNTER

ask and you shall definitely receive

summary - tara has been over worked with studying and testing, so you decide to help her out a little bit

————————

“Tara, baby, why don’t you let me cook?” You asked from your seated position at the table, watching your girlfriend carefully.

It’s testing time for her in college, and it’s been kicking her butt. Almost every night she is up late studying some sort of film or useless assignment, which has been causing her to gain at most 3 hours of sleep.

You’ve tried your hardest to get her to take some sort of break, but Tara is one of the most stubborn people you know so your efforts make no dent.

“I’m basically done, don’t worry.” She reassured you, stirring the bubbling soup with the ladle before closing the lid on it, “Just needs to simmer.”

“If you say so…” You muttered, watching her pick up her phone and lean herself against the counter.

Her body bent over the counter, her ass sticking back out while her back arched slightly as she scrolled on her phone. Your eyes bore into her, a blush coating your cheeks from the lack of coverage her thin sleep shorts provided.

“Are you studying tonight?” You asked, slowly standing up as to stay undetected.

“Yeah, I have a slasher film final in a couple days.” Tara replied, not paying you any attention.

“You don’t even need to study for that.” You mumbled, sliding up behind her while undoing the tie on your sweats.

“Yes I do, if I don’t then i’ll most definitely NOT make a 100.” She quipped back, leaning her weight onto one leg.

You hummed, kicking your discarded pants behind you before taking her hips in your hands. She was warm under your touch, and even warmer when you pressed your hard bulge into her ass.

She froze at the feeling, her eyes locked in on a cup in front of her. Her phone long forgotten, she pushed herself up on her hands and let you invade her space. Your face immediately went for her neck, burying there and leaving little love bites everywhere you could reach.

Your hands roamed her body, squeezing her hips, rubbing her sides, ghosting over her breasts, slipping under her shirt to feel the soft skin of her stomach. You were soon humping against her, huffing and whining in her ear all while you did.

“Y/N.” Tara whispered, inhaling sharply when you cupped her breasts under her shirt, “T-the soup.”

“Fuck the soup.” You grumbled, squeezing her soft breasts while grinding your hips against her ass, “I want you for dinner.”

She whimpered at your words, blushing heavily from the noises you were producing. You were panting in her ear, whispering her name like it was the last thing you would ever say, and it was making her knees weak.

Wordlessly, you placed one hand on her back to bend her over the counter, keeping your other hand on her hip to guide her however you pleased. She seemed to vibrate in your hold, unsure of what you wanted her to do and choosing to carefully follow along instead.

“You’ve been overworking yourself.” You said breathlessly, pathetically humping into her, “You need a break.”

Your thumbs hooked into the waistband of her sleep shorts, pulling them off and letting them fall around her ankles. You then removed your boxers, kicking them behind you before kneeling on the ground.

You nudged her legs apart, giving her thigh a little nibble before leaning in to run your tongue through her folds. She jumped, letting out a vocal gasp at the feeling. You licked up her slick, moaning at the taste of her before finding her entrance and pushing your tongue inside.

“Shit, Y/N!” Tara cried out, letting her hips push back against your tongue, “Ah~!”

You hummed, making her moan pleasantly, and buried your face closer into her heat. Your teeth caught her clit each time your jaw opened wider, which caused her knees to begin to shake. Out of fear of her potentially collapsing, you removed your face from between her thighs while she whined in protest.

“Wha-.” Tara started to say, before stopping when she felt your cock run though her folds, “Y/N.”

“Hm.” You replied, smiling as you watched her arousal leak around the head of your penis.

“I swear to god,” She breathed, turning her head to the side to acknowledge you, “If you don’t stop teaSING!”

Her statement ended in a shrill scream when you swiftly pushed into her, your thick shaft stretching her far apart. Your hand went around to cup her mouth, leaning over her to whisper next to her ear.

“Stay quiet, or the neighbors will kill us.” You purred, before standing back up with her hips in your hands.

You didn’t give her a chance to protest, letting your hips pull back and slam back into hers in a rhythmic motion. You squeezed the fat of her ass, thrusting your cock deep inside of her. She whimpered from each trust, the painful feeling of you splitting her apart mixed with the awareness that you were hitting her g-spot each time, made her see stars in her eyes.

You kept your focus on your cock appearing and disappearing inside of her, biting your lips at her puffy and soaked folds. Her ass jiggled with each pound you gave her, bouncing back and forth from the force you produced. It was an attractive sight, a hot one.

“Damn babe, you’re so thicc.” You mumble to her, a moan tumbling from her mouth in response, “I could fuck this pussy all day.”

One of your hands slid up to her back, pressing down so her back would go into a pretty arch. Your other hand went down to find her clit, pressing and rolling it to the rhythm of your thrusts. She let out a cry, her head dropping onto the counter from the different stimulation.

You felt a sudden gush of wetness on your cock, and looked back down to see a new layer of cum on your abdomen. A smirk graced your face, and you turned your attention back to Tara’s moans and cries of your name. Your hips stilled, cock stuffed deep inside of her cunt.

“Did I say you could cum?” You asked her, reaching under to press on the large bulge in her stomach, “Or did you just decide to disobey me?”

“F-fuck.” She sobbed, reaching back to attempt to push your hand away from her, but you didn’t move, “Y/N please.”

“Please what? You have a mouth, you can use it.”

“I…I can’t…” She cut herself off with a cry when you added more pressure to the bulge, “Ah~!”

“If you wanna act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” You growled, rocking your palm into her stomach while your hips started to pick up pace.

Tara let out a wail of pleasure, her eyes squeezing shut when you gyrated your hips into hers. The head of your cock pressed against her g-spot with each thrust you produced, making her chant your name like a church prayer. You let your hand slid up from her clit and back to her hip, giving yourself leverage to search for her sweet spot while you fucked her.

You drilled your hips into her, still pressing on the bulge while pushing her hips left and right to find the sensitive spot that would make her cry for you to stop and beg for more at the same time. With a aggressive pound, you felt the spongy texture of her sweet spot and focused your attention there.

It was too much for Tara, with the pressure on her stomach and the repeated thrusts against her sensitive spot, she all but collapsed onto the counter with a weak mewl. Pitiful whimpers exited through her mouth each time you railed into that spongy spot, white spots appearing in her sight.

You leaned over her, your other hand coming up and threading into her hair. You pulled her head back, arching her back more for you while you fucked her dumb. Her knee’s threatened to buckle under your weight, but before she could she felt a soft ‘pop’ inside of her.

Suddenly, an abundant amount of pleasure shot through her, causing her to grip the counter and scream your name from the feeling. You nuzzled your face into her neck, using the last of your energy to push you both over the edge of your orgasms.

Tara went first, her body tensing and a pathetically broken cry of your name leaving her mouth before she went limp. You followed suit, pulling her hips tight against yours and letting the hot knot snap. Your cum pumped deep into her pussy, soothing her walls with the warm liquid.

“Jesus.” You mumbled, hips still humping, “I wish i could stay in your cunt forever.”

Tara whined, unable to form a sentence let alone words at all. You got the hint though, taking your hand away from her belly to place on her hips so you could pull out. She groaned when you did, the release of pressure making it feel like her stomach was dropping. You responded with kisses on her spine, slowly dragging your cock out of her.

As soon as you were out, she slipped down to her knees, letting her forehead rest against the cold wood of the cabinet door. She exhaled softly, letting out a quiet ‘mmmm’ when your hand ran up her back. You had already cleaned yourself up and put your clothes back on, now you just needed to help your girlfriend do the same.

“Baby.” You said to her, rubbing in between her shoulder blades, “Can I pick you up?”

Tara nodded weakly, groaning slightly when you hooked your arms under her to pick her up. Once she was settled in your arms, you left the kitchen and went to your bedroom, wordlessly heading towards the bathroom.

You set her on her feet, letting her lean her full weight into you while you got her out of her loose shirt. You then had her lean against the wall so you could start a bath for her. Once the tub was filled, you helped her into the warm water, her body shaking slightly from the lack of energy she had.

You pressed a kiss to her temple, telling her you would be back after you turned the stove off. She replied with a hum and a nod, weakly waving you away. Hurriedly, you went to the kitchen to turn the burner off and move the pot over before jogging back to your bathroom.

“The soup smells good.” You said, grabbing her shampoo and conditioner so you could wash her hair, “I bet it will taste even better.”

“If you’re still trying to distract me from studying, it ain’t happening.” Tara mumbled, sighing when you began to massage the shampoo into her wet hair, “I can’t fail this test.”

“You wouldn’t even if you didn’t study Tar.” You replied, tilting her head back to rinse the suds out with a cup of water, “You need to relax.”

“Is breaking my back considered relaxing?” She teased, reaching up to run her fingers along your bicep, “Cause that was just an energy drainer.”

“I thought it was quite good.” You retorted, massaging the conditioner into her scalp before adding quietly, “But i’m sorry if it wasn’t enjoyable for you.”

Tara snorted, slapping your hand away before reaching up and grabbing your face to pull your lips to hers. She kissed you lovingly, smiling into it while rubbing your cheeks with her thumbs.

“You were fantastic love.” She praised, kissing your nose a few times before letting you go, “It was very enjoyable for me.”

“Phew, I thought you didn’t like any of it and then I was gonna feel like a dick for the rest of my life.” You said, wiping imaginary sweat off of your forehead.

“Awww baby.” Tara cooed, poking your chin with a wet finger, “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t like it.”

You nodded, leaning your head into the palm of her hand. She giggled and leaned up to kiss you again, letting your hearts intertwine in the peaceful bathroom glow.

—————————

happy bday @tonyspank

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Make Me Beg

Ghost x Reader

Ghost had been curious to see if you could be the one to make him beg for a change, in which to both his pleasure and dismay, you oblige.

NSFW 18+, Shameless Smut, Porn w/ little Plot, Explicit Description, Graphic Language, AFAB Reader, P in V Sex, Teasing, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Slight build-up, A lot of edging, slight Nipple-Play, Tit-Fucking, Handjobs, Kissing, Blowjobs, Fingering, somewhat Touch Starved!Ghost, Dom!Reader (in essence), One Shot, Somewhat proofread

WC: 3.4k~

A/N: I haven't written anything since November. Trying to dust off the old bones. I hope you enjoy~

Masterlist

"Go on then," Ghost challenged you, this towering mass of man now looming in the doorway to your apartment like an impending shadow. "Make me beg for it."

You scoff, the remaining space between you two growing smaller by the second. You had been joking earlier (and a bit tipsy) when you claimed you could make him beg for you if you tried hard enough; a fast-growing habit, teasing him ever since you learned of his interest in you. To be fair, he'd been rather shy about it. But it seems it only took a few drinks and some jeering from the others tonight for him to finally do something.

He closes the door behind himself, still masked and in his boots, as he saunters towards you, his height and size growing more massive at every lost inch of space. His olive eyes, near black in the muted lights of your living room, seem to be devouring the entirety of your form before him, standing idle with your heart thumping within your throat. The smirk on your face can only hide it so well.

"Make you beg?" You cross your arms and start to lean on your hip rather provocatively. "Why? Do you want to beg for me, Simon?"

Ghost chuckles, his eyes dipping between your lips and collarbone, and noticing how you swallow at the sight, as your skin calls to him like a siren's song. In reality, it wouldn't be a hard thing at all having him beg for you, but did you know that? It's what's got him so curious to find out.

"I want to see if you can make me," he says. "Since you seemed so confident earlier. Or was it just talk?"

The way his voice rolls from his tongue like a husky growl has you near weak in the knees. Making him beg you seemed more daunting at every second, but you always loved a challenge. You lick your lips and step even closer, leaving your body just barely out of reach. You can tell he wants to lean in just from how his head is ducked down at you, eyes having been locked on yours since stepping in. Like a predator in every way, wanting to work for his meal.

“How exactly do I make you beg?” you ask him.

“I can't give you all the ideas,” he teases.

You pout. “And I'm guessing you're not gonna make it easy for me then.”

“Where's the fun in that, love?”

You cross your arms and think, tilting your head to the side and looking him up and down. All the while you felt his body heat radiating before you, his rainy pine-like scent from outside filling your nostrils. He keeps his hands at his sides, however much he wants to let them rest at your hips and pull you in, having you begging him instead.

And then it hits you.

“I know just the thing.”

By the fifteenth-minute mark of Ghost not-so-patiently waiting alone for you to emerge from your restroom, he’d begun wondering what it could be that you were cooking up for him tonight. No doubt, it had something to do with this little idea that had suddenly popped into your head.

“How much longer?” He calls to you from by your dresser, having just started curiously looking at all the little souvenirs stacked there.

More thumping erupts from your side of the door, as though you were hopping about. “Just… give me a few more seconds...”

The bathroom door swings open, sweet scents and perfume pooling out behind you as you slowly step out. Once Ghost has laid his eyes on you, however, all the blood in his body damn near rushes to the lower halves of himself, his skin catching aflame like napalm. He knew you would give him your best shot, but he hadn't expected you to be so prepared.

You'd put on lingerie, a pair you'd been saving for a night special like this. It fits your form more perfectly than Ghost felt he deserved to bear witness to, from the way the lace meshes with the most supple parts of your breast, rising and falling at every breath you make, all the way to how your panties hug your hips, just screaming to be tugged away. How you could have been hiding a body as fine as this from him for so long would be a mystery forever lost in time.

Watching his eyes bounce up and down on your body makes you damn near want to burst into laughter. Maybe this will be easier than you initially thought.

“Was it worth the wait?” you ask.

Ghost slowly steps forward, looming, as his eyes haven't wavered once. “It’s about to be.”

And then you smirk. “Good. Now for the rules.”

Ghost pauses. “Rules?”

“That’s right,” you nod. “Since you want to challenge me. We have rules now.”

Ghost stands there slack-jawed beneath his mask, all the ideas he had running in his mind translating into a less-than-excited glare. The rules couldn't be all too bad, he imagined. And it wasn't like you were turning him away either. So he'll bite.

“A’right, let’s hear ‘em.”

“No touching.”

“Wha’?”

“No touching.”

“What’s so ever?”

“No, no. I get to touch you.” As you speak, letting your words ooze off your lips like honey, you close that last little bit of space you two had, finally letting a single hand rest on his boulderous chest. It's enough to make the man ready to tear your clothes off right then and there. “I get to touch you all I like,” you say. “However I like, for however long I like. But you… no touching. Not unless you beg me. And if you don’t listen, you'll have to beg me to forgive you.”

Ghost gives you a more lustful stare, feeling how your fingers curve over his broad muscles even through his coat. You look up at him, having bit your lips and exhaled ever so dauntingly, silently telling him how much you were about to enjoy yourself with him.

So he can't touch you? Very well then, bring it. Let's see what tricks you had under your sleeve.

“Such a tricky woman you are,” he all but purrs. “Very well then, I’ll play your game.”

“I thought you might.”

Gently, you guide the man back until his large legs had brushed your bed, where he willingly sat before you. Your hands then slowly slide across his body, his eyes not being able to help but take in the fullness of your own. But it wasn't until he'd felt this itching urge to reach out and feel your skin for himself that he began realizing just how difficult this challenge might be. It wouldn't help that his pants were growing uncomfortably tight, just begging for your touch of relief.

You would oblige him, somewhat slowly, however. You get down to your knees and work your way towards undressing him. First removed are his boots, then his coat, his pants, soon to be followed by his shirt. It's at this point you take a small step back to look at your new plaything for the night.

Ghost's body already looks good even in uniform, so seeing this muscular and scarred mass of man before you, all tatted and warm-blooded, felt just as surreal and awe-inducing as it had in your dreams. It didn't make you any less wet seeing him like this either.

“You want the mask on?” he asks you, breaking that little trance you were in. The man already couldn't touch you, he wasn't sure if he could sit through these temptations much longer.

You begin your answer by resting both your hands on his knees, letting yourself lean further in. It almost makes you laugh when you feel the hairs on his thighs begin rising from your touch, his body reacting against this cool demeanor you continued masquerading. “I'll take it off when I feel like it.”

“As you wish,” he teases. “I'm at your full disposal tonight, love. Both mind and body.”

“That you are.” You gently separate the man's legs, leaving before you a massive canyon of muscle leading toward an almost distractingly large bulge. It practically throbs beneath the fabric, already hard and aching for you. The longer your eyes linger there, the longer Ghost feels his breath trapped in his throat. Your sudden smile brings him back to, nonetheless, if rather anxiously so. “Now, be a good boy and keep your hands at your sides. That's something you can manage, yes?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

It's the way he doesn't argue with you, following your command as obediently as he would on the job that has you so excited to get started. You just couldn't wait to finally break that unshakable composure of his; making a play-toy out of him was just the added bonus.

Your hand reaches between his legs, cupping over his cock and taking a hefty but gentle handful, as the entire mass of it all was already too much for a single hand. His breathing comes low and shaky like small huffs from the nose, biting back moans as you slowly pull him free of his trousers, his cock spilling out large and ready. It was taking all of him not to have his eyes already rolling back behind his skull from your touch, and even more so not to lift a finger and join you.

“Goodness gracious,” you say teasingly. “How long have you been hiding this?”

Ghost begins to quip, only to have the words catch in his throat as you let your two fingers trace up his shaft, brushing against the soft, throbbing skin of his cock like feathers. You let your touch teeter between teasing and pleasing him, your index finger playing with his tip and smearing slick across the head of his cock and your thumb. Your other hand soon joins, before gently taking the base and dancing your fingers over him. It makes his entire body shiver, a moan trapping itself in his throat.

Of course, you do everything in your power to try and force those moans out of him; it had been the best part of this. You wanted the sound of his lust-drunk voice to soothe the back of your mind for all your future days to come. But even now, you knew he was holding some part of himself back, if not to challenge you in return.

"Don't be shy now, Si'," you said. "Let me hear you."

"You'll have to make me," he said back. "If you can manage that."

"I'm just warming up, in fact."

You begin jerking him off, only you do it so lightly, with gentle tugs and swipes of your finger, that it wouldn't be enough to finish the job, instead overstimulating the man and sending his body into an impatient frenzy. Despite his continued refusal to let his lips part and moan for you, the low hums he released and the heavy breathing of his chest let you know well enough that it had been taking everything in him not to. And seeing him start to squirm only makes you giggle devilishly.

You go at this inconsistent and playful rhythm for about seven minutes, though for Ghost that had felt equivalent to a half hour of pure sexual torture. And the worst part of all of this had been his hands, balling the sheets within his fists at his sides so as to not reach over and take hold of you.

No touching, you told him. He should have guessed it wouldn't be so easy.

“We'll be ‘ere all night at this rate,” he quips, though his words come out so stifled they're nearly at a whisper.

You giggle in response. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“Maybe not for you,” he says. “You're the one having all the fun.”

“Aw, this isn't fun, Si’?”

Ghost gives you the most deadpan look when he speaks, his voice low and filled with hunger. “Fun would be me throwing you on this bed ‘ere behind me and fucking you ‘til the sun rises.”

Ghost leans in now, letting his masked lips get so close to you that you could practically feel his breath in your ear. “You know you like the sound of that,” he growls. “Having me fuck you all night. Just bouncing up and down on my cock while I rail you good and deep. You want that, don't you love?”

You push him back against the bed, giving him a smug look as your grip on his cock grows more firm. Suddenly you've used your other hand to reach behind yourself, letting your bra unclasp and spill to the floor. Your breasts, now naked to him, look so moldable to the touch, the light curving off your skin so mouth-wateringly; Ghost wanted to do more than just touch you at this point. And even beneath a mask, you could tell. You could see it in his doe-like gaze.

“Just say the magic words then,” you smile. “Beg me.”

“What should I say?”

“I can't give you all the ideas.”

Not letting up your teasing, you finally take your hands away from him, your fingers now wet with spit and slick, rubbing over your breasts. Your fingers dance across your nipples before hugging your tits together and squeezing them with a light hum. You then lean forward and let the head of his cock gently press at your nipple, pre-cum webbing between you two as your hands to continue making a mess of yourself.

If he stared at you playing with him any longer, then the aching pain in his groan may just drive him insane. He hadn't cared any longer that your toying had his knuckles near white gripping the sheets, nor that the heat from your body had his toes curling, words barely able to process without coming out in a breathy grunt. He could watch you at his knees playing with him all day, if only this unbridled arousal could finally be released.

A bright idea crosses his mind, and then he closes his eyes. Your actions wouldn't go but the sensations wouldn't be as crazy if he weren't looking into your seductive gaze as you did them. For a few seconds that worked… until he felt something warm and wet engulf him, sucking lightly and making his hips begin to buck.

He opens his eyes and sure enough your mouth had gone over him, but only over the tip, as you let your drooling tongue circle about his cock like ice cream.

Your eyes meet his, and then you take your mouth away, replacing your look with a cheeky smile. You aren't about to let him off the hook so easily.

“I was just checking to make sure you were still awake,” you say.

“Fuckin’ evil, you are,” he grunts through another moan. “Not even a hint?”

“Say please.”

Please? It felt like such a simple thing to say now, though the more he thought about it the more he could feel his pride getting punched. You continuing to let your tits rub against his shaft made for a nice way to mend that pain, however, your breasts doing a better job at jerking him off than any hand he's ever felt before. 

“...Please.”

You gasp playfully. “Please what?”

“Please let me touch you,” he said.

“Is that all?”

You never did like to make it simple. Ghost shakes his head and grunts. “‘Tis not all...”

“I'm listening.”

Ghost sits up again, towering over you once more as he looks you in your eyes, skin damn near burning with heat.

“Let me fuck you,” he said. “I wanna make you feel as good as you’re doin’ me now. I want to have your body shaking-- aching for me. I want to hear your voice cryin’ out my name ‘til it gives out and it's nothin’ but gasps and hiccups. Need I say more?”

You sit there motionless for a moment just taking in the words, as Ghost's eyes all but devoured you, waiting feverishly for your reply. You'd been smiling all night, but this had really brought the shine to your lips.

You lift your hand and reach out, until you've clasped the top of his mask, before finally unveiling the blond and facing a hardened and scarred face flushed with lust. The second his mouth was bare you finally let your lips taste his, as you pulled him into a sloppy kiss still slurred by your earlier drinking. A few pecks are left before parting ways, letting your legs straddle him as you nibbled at his bottom lip on the way out. For a moment he had seemed hesitant to kiss you back, if only for two seconds, before his kisses grew so overpowering that you’d almost forgotten who’d initiated this in the first place.

With one final smirk, you say, “OK.” And like a starved beast, he takes hold of you, quickly reversing the roles and placing you onto your back. As he was now towering over you, suddenly you feel as though you might regret all the teasing from earlier.

Ghost takes a moment to himself just to look at you, his eyes slowly traveling up and down your body, and his heart rate increasing. He then lifts a hand and reaches out; you half expected him to touch you in the obvious areas, however, he surprises you when his hand cups your cheek, simply bringing your gaze to his.

“Now,” he lets his thumbs gently caress you. “I was thinking on giving you a taste of your own medicine… at first.” His thumb now glides across your lip as he speaks, slowly trailing down your body, past your collarbone, and then your naval, before finally forcing their way past the seam of your panties, large fingers now teetering at the edge of your clit. He holds himself there, just knowing his hand being only inches from your pussy was already driving you mad, your little lip-bite proving as such.

“You could do that, yes,” you nod.

“I could,” he agreed, his two fingers now curving over your cunt and teasing at your dripping hole, making a soaking mess of his fingers almost immediately. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to bring those fingers over your clit and go to town, yet he kept his hand still, his eyes remaining firmly on yours. “I'd have you beg me now; you wouldn't last a minute I reckon.”

“You want to bet?”

Ghost brings those same wet fingers back to his cock, where he slicks the mess you'd made over his pulsating erection, letting his large, rough thumb swipe at your dripping slit for more lubricant every so often, until his skin was damp with you.

His hands grip your thighs like play-doh as he gives them a light squeeze, pushing your legs back until your knees were at your ears and your cunt was spread bare to him like a juicy, pink desert. He can't keep himself away after witnessing such a maddening sight between your legs, pulling himself closer and letting his cock rest heavily below your navel. The sheer mass of it made the weight against your belly unavoidably heavy, your lower halves throbbing in ways you're sure he'd grown recently familiar with.

“I already told you what I want to do,” he says, while just as casually taking hold of himself and rubbing the tip of his head roughly against your clit, flicking and massaging it teasingly. You've barely any time to let your lip quiver in delightful anticipation before the walls of your pussy are suddenly and slowly penetrated. Ghost has already started a brutally long thrusting in and out of you the second that wet heat cups over his cock, making sure you felt every girthy inch of him on the way in. With a final shaky breath, before he puts his full efforts into making a mess of your body, Ghost brings his lips to your ear, letting his teeth and warm breath tickle and graze at your earlobe, wanting you to hear him clearly as he tells you, “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til my name comes out your mouth like hiccups.”

And he does just that.

Between the sound of his name bubbling out your throat at every deep thrust he made in you, and the harsh smacking of his lower half against yours, giving you that pleasurably rough grind with each impact, you’d been drooling with tears falling down your cheeks by the tenth consecutive minute. All the while, Ghost took advantage of his newfound ability to feel you, his large hands cupping and pawing at your breasts like stress balls, kneading at your flesh, and imprinting the very shape of you into his palms. When he grew bored with one position, he’d only flip you over and let you ride him next, watching you bounce on top and take all of him in like you’d been born to do so.

Your body quivers and shakes above him with pleasure as you feel his hands slide up your torso, taking another handful of your tits. You begin to fold above him, your face burying itself in his chest from the overwhelming sensation another orgasm had brought you.

Now it had been his turn to laugh. “Don’t tire out now, love,” he teases. “There’s still a few more hours ‘til the mornin’.”

(^3^) it's good to be back~

[countcvnt]

Experiment

[Chapter Three: Safe House]

[Poly!Task Force 141/Fem!Reader]

[Ch. One] [Ch. Two]

Summary: When you are finally comfortable enough to nap, memories still come back. This time... you're left more sad than in pain. Warnings: Sadness, mentions of torture. Also, as always, this isn't really beta'd so there may be mistakes! Word Count: 3.3k A/N: COVID Brain Go BRRR! I know Ghostie baby has been the center of attention.... BUT IT'S SAD AND IMPORTANT.

“Ghost,” You look up at the beast of a man, ��You can go shower if that’s what you wanted to do.” He turns slightly, looking at you over his shoulder. “I mean, why else would you walk into the showers? I can handle myself.”

Ghost blinks. He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.”

You immediately pick up on what that means. ‘I would rather stay with you.’ You don’t question it further. You stick by Ghost as the two of you finally reach the cafeteria and the sound of people inside sends you into a panic. You freeze. You look at all the people and your chest is tightening.

“You good?” Ghost turns and notices your fear.

“Uh,” You can’t look at him. Your eyes are jumping from person to person. “I haven’t been around this many people in… a while.”

“Look at me,” He steps in front of you, careful to not touch you. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna let-”

You interrupt him. “I know-” Your eyes move to him and you freeze. Your stomach turns. Suddenly you feel like your brain is running at hyper speed. He was so close to you… The sounds around you are being drowned out and for a brief moment, it’s just the two of you.

“Hey,” His voice is low. His hand gently touches your shoulder, “Are you alright?”

“Simon-” Your heart jumps into your throat. Your head is spinning. “Your name…”

You can feel his grip on you tighten. His eyes widen, only momentarily, but you catch it. You hear him exhale like he’s just been punched, and see his mouth upturn slightly under his mask. The smile drops fast. You wonder why, but you’re too torn up to ask about it. You pinch the bridge of your nose and flinch at the sudden bustle around you again.

“Let’s get some food and get you out of here.”

You nod. You trail behind Simon as he grabs you some food. Other soldiers are staring, but you notice when Simon stares back, the soldiers are suddenly very interested in their food. The both of you walk from the cafeteria to the room you were at earlier.

Simon opens the door, lets you in, and you walk towards one of the chairs. You sit. Simon brings over your food and gently sits in front of you. You thank him quietly.

“Everything alright?” John asks. His eyes watch you closely.

“My head hurts.” You pick at the food, “I remembered Simon’s name.”

John looks proud. “Good!” He’s enthusiastic, but his voice is low. “That’s a step in the right direction.”

“I guess.” You nod. You can’t help sound defeated.

“How come dae ye sound sae dowie?”

Your face contorts. “What?”

“Why are you sad?” Gaz asks you. “It’s good you’re remembering.”

You sigh, picking at a granola bar. You scrunch your face up and look at Gaz. “My brain has been fucking picked apart and put back together. You four seem to adore me- Or what used to be me… And I can barely remember your names! Soap- I don’t remember your name! And,” You point at Price, “you had to tell me yours.”

Soap walks over to you, “Johnny. Name’s Johnny.” He gives you a soft smile. You’re melting. You look up at him, scraping through your brain. It hurts to even think. You want so badly to know him. To know all of them. But you don’t. Not anymore.

“What was it I did here?” You ask them. Price goes to open his mouth, “And don't-” you put your finger up, “ask me what I remember. Because all I know is Laswell hand picked me-”

“You remember Laswell?”

You nod. “Well, yeah. I remember her hand picking me for… something. After that it's a little fuzzy. I think- Actually I know I was a computer gal. But that's about it. What did I do here?”

“Exactly what you think you did. You never really had to be on the field, you were behind the scenes. Helping us get in and out of places.” John informs you.

“Do you-” You stop yourself. “I don't know what happened. To me. Like,” you bite the inside of your lip as Simon tenses, “do you know how it happened?”

“You were in the safe house—”

Simon immediately excuses himself. Your heart sinks. A feeling of nausea washes over you. The door slams as he leaves and you flinch. Gaz places a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes shut tight.

A hand is wrapped around your forearm. You are being dragged down a hallway. Screams rip from your throat, pleading, begging. You claw at the masked guard pulling you towards the unknown.

“I promise!” You're sobbing, “I'll be good! I won't fight anymore!” It’s ironic, really.

The bright lights of the facility are blinding. The guard reaches a large double door and walks in, tossing you inside. You slide across the floor, a loud cry escaping you.

“Hook her up.” The guard is blunt. Done with you. Done with your bullshit.

“Hook me- hook me up?”

A female scientist walks out from a secluded booth. She says nothing to you. She pulls you up, and the guard points a gun at you, with intent to get you to cooperate. You do. She leads you to a chair and sits you down. You look up at her with tears in your eyes, your cheeks soaked from the tears that previously fell. She doesn't lock eyes with you.

“Please,” you whisper, “please help me.”

She does not.

The scientist begins to hook you up to a monitor. She quietly asks you to open your mouth, and you do so. She places a guard in between your teeth and you clamp down. Your bottom lip quivers.

The woman walks back into the booth. The guard exits the room, the door slamming behind him. You flinch.

“Ye okay?” Soap asks you.

You pull back, harshly. You’re standing up in a matter of seconds, tears threatening to spill. You turn to look back at the door that had slammed and you want to scream. You look back at Soap, Gaz, and John, pouting. Your bottom lip quivers and you want to hide. You want to go back to your room. But you don’t want to be alone. You can’t.

“You need to rest.”

“No.” You huff. “I can’t be alone.” You admit it out loud. It doesn’t make it any better.

“One of us can stay with you.” You’re tired of Price’s reassuring tone. It’s no longer reassuring you.

“I’d hate to keep you from your work, I- I just need to eat or something. Need to calm down.” When you get knowing looks from Soap, Gaz, and John you groan. “Fine. I need rest. Um,” you look at Price, “will you stay with me?”

“Of course.” He gives you a soft smile. “You two know what to do.”

The way John says it, it’s like he doesn’t want you to know what it is. Or, doesn’t want to worry you with it. You go with the second option. John’s hand presses to the small of your back, and you feel yourself relaxing. The two of you leave the room and begin heading towards what you can only assume is John’s room.

“Is Simon mad at me?” The words fall from your lips, you aren’t thinking. 

“He’s not mad, love,” Goosebumps rise on your skin as Price says ‘love’. ‘There that word is again…’ “Not at you.”

“But he is mad?”

Price falters. “He just needs space right now.”

You don't push it further. You only nod. You understand to a certain extent. You want to understand more though. You want to know what has him so upset. It has something to do with you, and that's all you know. You get to John’s room and he opens the door for you, motions for you to walk in. He doesn't grab for you, he doesn't push you. You're thankful for that.

“I'll be here, you lay down and rest.” John sits down in a chair in the room and you stand there awkwardly.

“Okay.” You walk towards the bed and lie down. You close your eyes and huff. Your eyes open back up and look towards John. He's watching you. “This is weird.” You admit. “It feels too familiar.” John shifts in his seat. “Can you like, I don't know? Maybe just lay down too?”

“On the floor?” He asks you.

Your expression drops, you give him a deadpan stare. “No, over here silly. It'll be okay.”

You, as he gets up and walks over to you, realize you haven't been in an intimate situation for at least four months. You aren't sure what kind of situations you were in before the facility, but you are sure you didn't do anything in there.

You scoot over slightly for Price. The bed shifts and he lays beside you. He seems the most comfortable around you since your arrival back. You can't tell if he's acting or not. You aren't sure how you would react to someone in your situation, so you don't think too hard about it. Instead, you lie in bed, your eyes shutting.

“Y’know,” your voice is soft, “I forgot how nice and warm people are.”

John lets out a quiet laugh (you can't tell if he's nervous). He pats you on the back as you roll onto your side. “Go to sleep.”

You don't fight it. You know John is going to keep you safe.

“You can take that off.”

Simon huffs at you. “No.”

You roll your eyes. “We're stuck here, for God knows how long, and you're going to keep your mask on? Simon, I startle easily, don't come at me when I wake up to you wearing that and attack you.”

Simon lets out a breathy laugh. It isn't forced. “Who the hell said we are sleeping in the same room?”

You are hurt, momentarily. “Well—” You pause. “Whatever.” You cross your arms and begin to walk towards the kitchen. “I'm making myself some food.”

Simon stands up and walks behind you. “Hey,” he walks in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Do you want to sleep in the same room?”

Your arms fall to your sides. You nod. “I know there are several rooms here. But, I’d feel more comfortable with you in the room. I can handle myself.” You put your hands up, eyes widening, “but I feel better with you by my side.”

Simon nods. “Okay.”

“So you’ll need to take that off.” Simon stiffens as you point at his face. “Not now,” you laugh, “but definitely before we sleep. Anyway, it’s probably all sweaty.”

You walk past Simon and towards the small kitchen. You begin to scour for food. Anything. There isn’t too much, but when you find some rice canned vegetables, you go with it. You begin to heat everything up and ask Simon if he’s hungry. He answers with a ‘hm’. You groan, looking at him.

“That doesn't answer my question.”

“I nodded.”

“Can’t hear that brain rattle.” You smile at him. Your stomach flips as he smiles under his mask. You focus back on the food and once it’s heated up you bring it to the small table. You grab a couple of bowls and place them on the table. Simon grabs one. You open your mouth without thinking. “Sorry, it’s not the best… It’s all we had.”

“Beats MREs.” Simon pats you on the back and sits down. You sit across from him and look at the empty chairs. Simon watches you closely. “What are ya thinkin’ about?”

“Nothing.” You wave your hand in the air. “It’s silly.”

“It’s probably not.”

You sigh. “Just thinking about John, Kyle, and Johnny. What if we weren’t in this situation? What if we were all… home? Together?”

“Together?” Simon pulls the bottom of his mask up, revealing his mouth. Shivers run down your spine. “Is that how ya want it to be?”

You nod. “All of us. Yeah. But—” You scrunch your nose, “It can’t be that way.”

Simon doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t respond. The both of you finish your food and he pulls his mask back down. Simon picks your bowl and walks it to the sink. “You’ve had a long day. You should sleep.”

“You have too, Simon. We should both sleep.” You stand up from the table. You turn to him and stare. Simon looks back at you, and you assume he realizes you aren’t going to bed without him, and he sighs.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

You smile at him. You find the room with the biggest bed and decide that would be the best room. You look at the neatly made bed and then at yourself. You’re sweaty, a little bloody, and definitely dirty. Simon sees you examining the bed and hums. You look up at him. “We have no pajamas.”

Simon, “Guess we sleep—”

“Sleep in our clothes.” You nod at him. He smirks. “What?” Your stomach is flipping.

“You, sleep in that nice bed, in your dirty clothes?” Simon laughs, “You’d rather sleep on the floor, I know you better than that, Ace.”

You roll your eyes and pretend you aren’t dying over how he said that. “Fine.” You cross your arms. “We’ll make a deal.” You look up at Simon, “I’ll just sleep in my underwear, but you have to take—”

“Wait,” Simon puts a finger up, “so I’ll be in my underwear too?”

“Well yeah, I’ll feel the dirt specks from your clothes if you sleep in those.” You cross your arms. Simon groans. “I’ll, like, close my eyes or something—”

“I trust you,” Simon interrupts you.

Your world is rocked. You nod. “I trust you too.” It is true. You trust all of them. Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, though. There has always been trust there, in yours and Simon’s relationship. Hearing him say it; it leaves you breathless.

You take a step back from Simon and begin to undress. He tenses. “What are you—”

“Getting ready for bed.” You strip down to your underwear and walk over to the bed. Your whole body burns, in a good way. You pull the covers back and lay down. Simon follows your suit. You feel back watching him, so you look at the ceiling. You hear him stifle a low laugh as he realizes what you’re doing. You look at him, with an angry face, only for heat to bristle across your cheeks.

Simon, with his balaclava still on, was stripped to his underwear now. He’s big. In more ways than one. You cross your arms and try to look just angry, while not seeming sexually frustrated at all. Simon makes his way towards the bed and his hand goes towards the bottom of his mask. He grabs it and you are hit with anticipation.

“Oh, you’re gonna watch me now?” He asks, smug.

“Well, yeah, you—” You are struggling. Simon is enjoying it. “I’m just going to sleep!” You yell, frustrated. You grab the covers and pull them up and huff. Simon laughs, briefly, before there is silence filling the room. The bed shifts and the covers move.

You peek over your shoulder to find big eyes, blond lashes, and smeared black face paint staring back at you. Your heart is in your throat. “Holy shit,” You whisper, “you’re so…” You are awestruck. You roll over onto your back, Simon’s face is inches from yours. He’s holding himself up with his forearm. You keep from kissing him. You’re trying to be professional.

“So what?” He asks, curiously. Still smug.

Angelic? Heavenly? Other worldly? You feel weird calling him those things. “Handsome.” You can’t help but look hungry for him. Simon smiles. He lays down and looks up at the ceiling. You can’t help but stare at him.

“You’re staring.” He closes his eyes.

You look up at the ceiling. Your eyes are wide and you aren’t sleepy anymore. You’re gripping the covers tightly, heart pounding in your chest.

“Simon?” You whisper to him. He immediately answers with a grunt. “Um, this is going to sound crazy…” You trail off. Simon looks at you, urging you to continue. “I sleep with a body pillow most of the time… I’m very comfortable with uh, cuddling. I wanna say now, that I may latch onto you in the middle of the night.”

“We can nip that in the bud now?” Simon cocks his head.

“I can cuddle you?”

“Opposite, actually.” His movements are quick for someone so large. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s pulling himself into your space. You don’t mind. Your skin is on fire again. “This okay?” He asks you.

“Perfect.”

Simon rests his head on your chest and you stop breathing momentarily. You are unsure what to do with your hands. Simon is resting peacefully on your chest and you aren’t even sure what to do with your hands.

You do the first thing that comes to mind. One of your hands finds his hair, and plays with it.  Your fingers gently pull at the short blond strands, and your fingernails run over his scalp. Simon groans. The both of you freeze.

“I can stop.” You sound more embarrassed than you had tended to.

“Don’t.” Simon doesn’t look up at you, he doesn't move. “Please don’t.”

You smile to yourself. You begin to hum softly. Simon has you locked in a death grip. You aren’t getting out anytime soon. And you don’t mind. You fall asleep on your back, you and Simon holding each other as close as possible.

You have no clue of what’s to come.

The calling of your name brings you back out of slumber. The franticness of the voice wakes you up abruptly. Your eyes shoot open and you feel tears smeared on your face. You look beside you and find John Price.

“You’re okay. I’m here.” He soothes you.

“Simon—” You want to vomit. “I need to see Simon!”

“Whoa, whoa!” John doesn’t grab for you as you get up, but he does follow you.

“Please!” You turn towards John with tears in your eyes. “I need to see him. Now.” John grabs his radio and radios Simon. No response. You turn towards Price’s door and swing it open. Price is sure you almost ripped it off the hinges. “Where could he be?”

“He’s probably blowing off some steam—”

You don’t let him finish. The gym. It’s your first thought. You had seen it earlier. You take off running towards the gym. You slide to a halt when you reach the gym doors and intentionally keep yourself from ripping the door off. You spot Simon doing pushups and take off running once more.

“Ghost!” Your voice cracks. He stops. He stands up when he sees how frantic you look. As soon as he’s on his feet you launch yourself towards him. Simon catches you, easily. He’s knocked back slightly.

You mumble something into his chest. “What?” He questions you. Price enters the gym and spots the both of you. Simon looks at Price with confusion, he shrugs back, a look of shock on his face.

You pull back and look up at him with tears in your eyes and wet cheeks. “I remembered… The safe house…” Simon immediately tenses. “Me and you— It was me and you.”

You bury your face back in his chest and try to keep from crushing his ribs. You don’t want to squeeze him too tight. Simon lets you hug him. You feel him hug back and you relax into his arms. A soft sob escapes you.

“It was me and you…”

Everything is slowly coming together. Simon was with you, that night in the safe house. But they took you… Simon was obviously the better option considering how fucking big he is. But they hand picked you.

You try to not think about it. Instead, you just hold Simon tighter.

_____________________

Taglist: @reap3erslov3 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @cosmic-rich @bvxygriimes (let me know if i happened to miss you, or you want to be added!)

Divider by: @cafekitsune

[victoryverse]

Virgin!Reader X Ghost?

Like its readers first time and he guides her through everything and uses his tongue to stretch her out?

Love your writing! Have a good day/night <3

Breaking In

simon riley x virgin!reader

words: 1k

18+, SMUT, oral (f receiving), p in v sex

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt as Simon leads you into his bedroom. Your heart is racing with excitement and fear, knowing that tonight is the night you will finally lose your virginity to your boyfriend. The thought of being so intimate with Simon, of him being the first person to touch you in that way, sends shivers down your spine.

But as Simon starts to undress you, your nerves start to take over. You've never been with anyone before, and the idea of having sex is both thrilling and terrifying. Simon notices your hesitation and immediately stops, cupping your face in his hands.

'Hey,' he says softly, looking into your eyes. 'It's okay. I'm here with you, and I'll make sure you feel good. Just trust me, okay?'

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease with his comforting words. Simon has always been patient and understanding with you, and you know he would never do anything to hurt you. He starts to kiss you gently, his lips moving slowly against yours. As you both deepen the kiss, Simon's hands start to explore your body, making you moan into his mouth.

He helps you out of your clothes, and you feel a little self-conscious being completely naked in front of him. But Simon's hungry eyes and the way he runs his hands over your curves make you feel desired and beautiful. He then removes his own clothes, revealing his toned body and hardened length.

'God, you're so beautiful,' he says, his voice full of awe. 'I can't believe you're all mine.'

Simon lays you down on the bed and begins to kiss and nibble at your neck, making you squirm beneath him. He moves down to your breasts, sucking on your nipples and eliciting moans from you. You feel a new sensation between your legs, a tingling and aching that you've never felt before. Simon notices your arousal and grins, knowing he's the one causing it.

'Are you ready for more?' he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Simon spreads your legs and settles himself between them, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He starts to kiss and lick his way down your body, leaving a trail of heat and desire. When he reaches your core, he spreads your folds open and takes a long, slow lick from your entrance to your clit.

You gasp at the sudden pleasure, arching your back off the bed. Simon continues to lap at your folds, his tongue flicking and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You moan and writhe beneath him, feeling a delicious pressure building in your lower stomach.

'Simon,' you whimper, feeling overwhelmed by the new sensations.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. 'That's it, baby. Let go and enjoy it.'

With his encouragement, you let yourself give in to the pleasure, your body trembling and clenching as you reach your first orgasm. Simon doesn't stop, though. He continues to eat you out, prolonging your pleasure and making you come again and again until you're a moaning, quivering mess.

When he finally pulls away, you're panting and flushed, your body humming with satisfaction. But Simon isn't done with you yet. He sits up and spreads your legs wider, his fingers slipping inside your wet heat. He starts to pump them in and out of you, stretching you open and making you feel fuller than you ever have before.

'Fuck, you're so tight,' he groans, adding a third finger and scissoring them inside you.

You cry out at the sensation, feeling both pleasure and a slight discomfort. But Simon is quick to soothe you.

'Relax, baby,' he says, his voice soothing and gentle. 'I'll be careful.'

And he is. With his skilled fingers and encouraging words, he slowly stretches you open, preparing you for what's to come. When he deems you ready, he moves between your legs and lines himself up with your entrance. He looks at you one last time, seeking your permission and making sure you're okay.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. You trust Simon, and you want this. With a deep breath, he pushes into you, slowly but steadily filling you up. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. Simon waits until you adjust to his size, peppering your face with kisses and whispering words of love and encouragement.

When he starts to move, it's slow and gentle, giving you time to get used to the feeling. But as your body starts to relax and the pain turns into pleasure, he picks up the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and meeting his thrusts with your own.

'Fuck, you feel so good,' Simon grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he pounds into you.

You moan and cry out, feeling a new kind of pleasure building inside you. It's different from what you felt earlier, more intense and consuming. You know you're close to your orgasm, and Simon can tell too.

'Come for me, baby,' he says, his voice strained with his own impending release.

With one final thrust, you fall over the edge, your body shaking and clenching around Simon as you come. He follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, both of you crying out each other's names.

As you both come down from your highs, Simon pulls out and lays next to you, pulling you into his arms. You're both sweaty and breathless, but you've never felt more connected and in love.

'Are you okay?' Simon asks, brushing your hair off your forehead.

You smile and nod, feeling a sense of contentment and fulfillment wash over you. 'That was amazing. Thank you.'

Simon smiles back, his eyes full of adoration. 'Anytime, baby. I love you.'

You snuggle closer to him, feeling completely at peace. Losing your virginity to Simon was everything you hoped it would be and more. You had trusted him with something so delicate, and he was careful and handled it with tenderness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

tell me if you like it! requests are open!

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x reader - not so secret

Hello, I hope it's not too much to ask. Could you possibly do a Hotch x BAU!reader, where they get caught (nothing spicy tho, if that makes sense) in his office by his team. - Anon💜

Slipping into the office, you closed the door quietly behind you and grinned a little as you turned around.

“Didn’t I tell you to take the day off?” Hotch asked.

“Well, yeah, but I was bored.”

Hotch hummed a little, closing the file on his desk.

“You haven’t had a proper day off in weeks.”

“Neither have you.” You countered.

Hotch chuckled a little bit, standing up and he closed the blinds, walking over to you and he brushed his knuckles along your cheek.

He leant down, pressing his lips to your forehead, and you closed your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” He whispered.

“Just take a small break Aaron, before you overwork yourself…”

Hotch smiled softly at you, running a thumb along your cheek.

“Alright, a small break. Now show me what’s in your pockets.”

You walked over to his desk, reaching into the pockets of your jacket you pulled out a cup of coffee, setting it down, then you reached into the other pocket, pulling out another cup.

“(Y/N), darling, I love you, but I’ve told you to stop putting coffee cups in your pockets.”

“Ha, jokes on you aaron I have more.”

You unzipped your jacket, reaching into the inside pockets to pull out a bag, and Hotch walked over, looking inside of it.

“Okay, so now you’re carrying a bag of doughnuts?”

You grinned and him and Hotch placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you around and reached into your other pocket, pulling some candy bars out.

“Snacks?”

“I plan on staying so suck it up.”

He chuckled again, holding the back of your jacket so you could take it off and he hung it up with his own before walking back over.

Hotch placed his hands on your waist, and you cradled his face between your hands, letting him lean into your touch.

The moment your hands held his face he immediately relaxed, letting out a sigh of content.

“You need to take care of yourself too… I’m worried about how hard you work…” you whispered.

“I know… I know I’m sorry…”

Hotch leant down, brushing his lips against yours in the ghost of a kiss.

He wasn’t always one for initiating physical contact, sometimes he over thought, and so you leant forward to kiss him.

You moved a hand to the back of his head, playing with the hairs in the base of his neck, and he smiled into the kiss.

He pulled away only slightly.

You frowned a little bit.

“They’ll catch us out eventually..” he whispered.

You shrugged a little bit, placing your hand on the back of his head.

“I don’t care…”

This made him chuckle a little bit and lean back down to give you another kiss before he finally pulled away fully.

Hotch picked up your coffee cup, handing it to you, and picked up his own, sitting down in front of his desk.

You sat down with him, resting your head in his lap as you looked up at him, setting your coffee down in favour for holding his hand in yours instead.

You held your hand in the air, staring up at your conjoined fingers.

“So, have you thought anymore about the weekend?” He asked.

“You mean going away?”

He hummed a little, nodding his head.

“Yeah, what do you think about it? You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to, Jack is as begging me all last night to ask you again.”

You laughed softly, resting both your hands on your stomach.

Hotch set his coffee down, bringing his other hand up to run his hand over your hair.

“I think it sounds pretty cool, I loved camping when I was a kid, my dad taught me everything I know.”

“So, does that mean you can pass your well rounded knowledge of camping down to Jack ready for his trip next month?” He grinned a little.

You laughed softly, bringing his hand up so you could kiss the back of his hand.

“Yes dear, I will pass my camping wisdom on to your son and teach him all he needs to know.”

Hotch grinned a little, leaning down and you met him halfway so you could kiss him.

“You’re a lifesaver…” he whispered.

“I’m just that great.” You beamed.

He chuckled again, leaning down to kiss you once more, and his office door was opened.

You tilted tour head back, and he looked up, you grinned a little bit while he just stared at Garcia.

“Garcia don’t do it.” He warned.

She squealed a little bit, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Garcia?” You asked.

“I’m sorry I can’t! Oh this is so juicy!” She equaled.

“Garcia!” You both yelled.

It was too late because she was already running down the stairs and you snickered a little, resting your head back on Hotch’s lap.

He sighed, but let out a small chuckle.

“Guess times up on keeping this hidden.”

You hummed a little, sitting up and turning around to face him.

“Is it really so bad?”

“No, it isn’t. I’m happy to know that they all know, but you’re answering all the questions.”

“Is that really a wise idea Aaron?” Rossi asked.

You and Hotch stood up, turning to the faces of the grinning team who were blocking the exit.

“You’re both going to answer all our questions.” Derek smirked.

“Interrogation time you two, sit.” Emily said.

You and Hotch sat down at his desk, you in his chair while he sat on the desk in front of you.

You knew they weren’t going until you two had answered all their questions, you were both going to be there for a while

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

i’m starvin’, darlin’

masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+: smut; emily has a penis, oral (r!receiving), masturbation, praise, facial, cum eating, fem petnames used

a/n: thank u to the anon who conjured this idea, hope this is enough to satisfy your slutty needs; title is from the song ‘eat your young’ by hozier

wc: 1.4k

You stood in the middle of your bedroom staring at your open wardrobe, you’d come home from work to change before meeting the remainder of the team for drinks and were frustrating yourself with your lack of decision making skills when it comes to an outfit.

You held two options in front of you as you looked in the mirror, hearing Emily click the lock of the bathroom door before she stepped into the room in only her jeans and a bra.

“Em, which one should I wear?” you asked her whilst she approached you from behind, not refraining from openly ogling every inch of your body she could see.

“Mm, either,” she murmured, resting her chin on your shoulder as her arms crept around you. “You look perfect in anything, sweetheart,” she breathed with her lips ghosting your neck.

“However far flattery gets you, it still doesn’t help me out,” you laughed, leaning your back against her as your belly swarmed at the open mouthed kisses she lay against your skin. “Babe, we don’t have time,” you added through a breathless voice, feeling heat wash all over you at the way her hands went wherever they pleased.

Fingertips stroked across your waist, creeping upwards until firm palms cupped your breasts. You chanced a look into the mirror hanging opposite you and almost lost your balance at the darkened eyes that stared back at you. Your girlfriend has never been shy to look at you, even before she finally claimed you as her own she wouldn’t look away when you’d catch her eyes on each curve of your body. She’s bold and she knows just what she wants and that mere fact alone makes your heart beat hard against your chest.

“You’re so perfect, pretty girl,” she whispered, swiping the tip of her tongue across the pulsepoint of your neck in a way that made you shudder.

“We’ve gotta leave soon,” you returned, watching the way her fingers pulled at your nipples through the padding of your bra, how her left hand crept its way downwards until it reached the waistband of your underwear.

“I can be quick,” she uttered, her voice deep and lusting. Strong hands pulled you to face her until you were pressed against her body, her hardening cock becoming apparent as it pushed against you through the denim of her jeans.

She pulled at your bottom lip between her teeth with her hot breath primal against you, and with the bluntness of her fingernails digging into your waist you were flush against her whilst her lips claimed yours in a kiss. It was heated and quick, fuelled by desperation and her primitive desire to taste you. Her tongue licked into your mouth as she guided you towards the bed; your head swarmed with Emily and the hands that pulled at your underwear.

The metal of her belt buckle clinked beneath your touch and once you’d rid her of her jeans, the bulge in her underwear was all you could focus on.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” she murmured against you, pushing you onto the mattress until your head lay against the pillows. With eyes glistening hungrily she observed you, the slit of your cunt already shining in arousal. She licked her lips at the sight, instantly pushing your thighs wide open with her arms holding you in place.

She pressed kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, sinking her teeth into the flesh with marks left behind whilst you peered down at her; dark hair tucked behind her ears with her head between your legs so ready to consume you as though she were starved.

“God, I could just devour you,” Emily rasped, swiping her tongue across your skin, climbing higher until the aroma of your heated sex was all she could focus on. Like she was parched and searching for satisfaction, she licked a stripe through your cunt as though it were the altar that gave her salvation.

A moan caught in the back of your throat at the way she hollowed out her cheeks with a determined suck to your clit, flicking the pointed end of her tongue over the swollen bud. She groaned against you at the taste, swallowing it down with delight while her hands grabbed at your thighs with the aim to leave behind bruises of possession.

You heard each fervent lick of her tongue, each sloppy kiss and suck, wet and raw as though she’d been denied the pleasure of your taste on her lips. And, with the pleasured sighs she pulled from you, the quiet of the room was soon filled.

Svelte digits slid into you with ease, curling effortlessly with a precision rehearsed over time until they pushed against the part of you that arched your back from the freshly laundered sheets underneath you.

Your hand tangled within her hair, nails scraping at her scalp and fist clenching with each wave of ecstasy that surged through you. The way you pulled at the dark locks elicited a sound almost akin to a growl from the woman between your legs and it only spurred her on, burying her fingers into your pussy with a desperate ache to pull you over the edge.

“C’mon, baby,” she breathed, lips nudging against your sensitive bud. “Lemme hear how good I make you feel.”

You glanced down to be met with her cocky smirk, eyes trained on yours whilst she continued her pace. With only a few more laps of her flattened tongue through your cunt, your walls clenched around her digits as the shocks of orgasm ran through you. The strength of her hands stopped your thighs from clamping together whilst she rode you through your high, swallowing each drop of your arousal that she could before she pulled away with wet lips.

She lifted herself onto her knees whilst your chest quickly rose and fell in search of breath and she looked down at you as though you were the most beautiful thing she had ever set her sights upon.

“Fuck, look what you do to me,” she breathed, pulling at her underwear to set her cock free from their restraints. The tip was shining with precum whilst she slid her hand along the thick length, swiping her thumb through the leaking head as she shuffled her way upwards until her knees were planted on either side of your waist.

Your hands reached up to squeeze her breasts beneath your palms and she leaned down for a kiss, letting you taste yourself on the tongue that fought against yours. And, while slow and lust-filled kisses were shared, her hand stayed between your bodies dragging along the throbbing dick that pressed against your torso.

She grunted into your mouth at the heat flowing through her, the impending orgasm quickly approaching with each twitch of her hips into her palm.

“You drive me crazy,” she stuttered out through breaths that were growing faster, sitting back until her thighs pressed against her calves and your eyes were zeroed in on the fast hand wrapped around her dick. “Jus’ sit back and look pretty, sweet girl,” she murmured, watching as you bit your lip, writhing beneath her with the throbbing between your legs. You knew this would have to continue later tonight - there was no way you could endure the entire evening without another taste of what she gives you.

Her hips stuttered into her hand with each mumble of admiration thrown your way until hot, white spurts of cum leaked from the head of her cock. You felt it land against your cheek and she only smirked down at you whilst she painted your skin with her cum, milking herself of all she could give until she could admire the drops against your face. You licked it from your bottom lip as Emily continued slow strokes against her cock, riding herself through the pleasure, eyeing each bead of her seed that lay across your face.

“Always such a messy girl, hm?” she teased, swiping her fingers through her cum on your face before forcing them past your lips. “Swallow it all down, baby,” she added in a murmur, fucking her fingers into your mouth whilst your tongue licked them clean so you could consume all that she fed you.

“Em, I was almost ready to leave,” you pouted once she pulled away with her digits coated in your saliva.

“Then, let's get you cleaned up,” she laughed. “But, don’t think for a second that I’m done with you.”