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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months

Text

MW2 Reaction To You Panty-Flashing Them

Warnings: Implied Smut, Mean! MW2, Dominant! MW2, Victim/Reader Blaming, Slut-Shaming, Reader Getting Pimped Out, Mention of a Leash, Allusions to Injury, Mentions of Blood, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

Ghost is a territorial man. So seeing you flash not only him but Johnny as well made something in him simmer.

It wasn’t rage, for this little accident, regardless of how intentional it was, was not your fault. If he had to place it, he’d attribute it to…

Lust.

As was evident in how he excused himself from the gathering of the 141 and Los Vaqueros in your living room, grabbing you by your arm.

He stowed you away. Dragged you to a desolate laundry room and gripped you by your thighs. You gasped, gripped onto him. Felt something hard rub against you.

Ghost threw you atop the washing machine and gave you a harsh stare as he watched you try to fight the feeling building within from the machine’s buzzing and shuffling.

“Go on then, Doll,” he rasps, eyes hard and the throbbing monster between his legs harder. He palmed himself. Remorse was not in his nature. And neither was mercy.

“Seein’ as you were practically beggin’ the others to fuck you, go and put on a show.”

His voice lowered. He stood between your legs, frame blocking you from any form of help or salvation.

“Just for me.”

König

König had been sat on your sofa, an action figure in a house for a doll half his size, and you’d bent over to retrieve something from beneath the TV cabinet.

The fact that you were wearing a pair of König’s shorts was already clouding his moral compass. Seeing your underwear peeking out beneath them was what sent him over the edge.

As you remained bent, cheek pressed to the floor as you reached for what you’d lost, you didn’t hear König approach. Didn’t know he’d even moved from the sofa until something thick and hard was pressed to the back of you, followed by two heavy hands holding you at the waist, and a slow, shuttering breath.

“Don’t move,” König told you. “Stay like this.”

Slowly, he pressed deeper into you. You could feel his restraint unwinding second by second.

It was when he bent over you, had his broad chest pressed to your back, that you knew you weren’t escaping. And you weren’t backing down.

“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you cum, bleed or pass out.” König’s voice held no humour, but you could feel the franticity building in it.

He reached round, gripped your chin. Made you look at him. His smile was sharp, his features dark.

“Whichever comes first.”

Soap

Johnny pulled the leash tighter around your throat when you tried to protest your innocence. Tried to make him see reason.

“Doesn’t matter that it was ‘just an accident’.” He mimicked you, made you sound weak, whiny. His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. His knuckles turned white around the leash.

His shadow loomed over you from your position on the bed, on your hands and knees while Johnny presided over you with an iron fist.

Tears obscured his silhouette. Made your eyes glassy.

“Aww, Did I upset you, Bonnie?” Johnny’s tone held a gruffness that didn’t even try to hide the anger running beneath.

He huffed, a mocking laugh.

“How’d’ya think I felt when you were practically spreading your legs for Simon?”

Again, you tried to tell him what really happened. Tried to incur any fragment of mercy Soap would spare you.

He pulled on the leash again. Tighter. You gasped, hands flying up to the leather around your neck, trying to loosen it – to plead for Johnny’s favour – as the air was knocked out of you.

“Oh no, you don’t get to talk.” He said. He stepped to you. The bulge in his jeans became ever more noticeable. Impending.

“M’gonna use you like the whore you are ‘til my cum’s leaking out of every hole in your body.”

Valeria

“Do I look like I fucking care, Darling?” Valeria circled you, her belt wrapped around her hand, a glint of darkness in her eye.

Wrists and ankles duct-taped to the chair, you could do little to follow her. To understand her intentions.

“Do you really think whatever little lie you pass off as an excuse can quell the fire you’ve set?”

Before you could attest your innocence, beg for forgiveness, Valeria’s belt came down across your thighs. Crying out, you flinched, tried to withdraw, pushing your chair back in the process.

Valeria lunged forward and gripped the chair by the arms, pressing your skin into the wood, and dragged you back.

Her face twisted into a visceral snarl, the portrait of evil.

“Please, Valeria, I’m begging you–”

“Oh, you’ll beg for me, alright.” Valeria looked down at you, her face to yours. Just shy of your noses touching. With bared teeth, she smiled.

“I won’t stop until you do.”

Price

“If you wanted attention that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Price had your arms and legs bound to a hard, wooden chair while a thick ream of cloth had your mouth gagged. He stood over you, arms crossed over his front, a glint in his eye. He sighed, brought his hands to grip your tied forearms. Pressed them into the armrests.

You winced.

“What…possessed you to go and show your arse to Alejandro and the rest of the team?” His voice reflected a tone of ponderment found only in Sarcasm’s extended family tree. And it showed with the faux confusion written in his brow.

“Do I just not cut it for you?” He leaned in. The chair creaked. Your arms hurt. He didn’t let up.

“Am I not enough to keep you from throwing yourself at the nearest soldier?”

He watched you, his stare narrow. You shook your head, eyes wide. You tried speaking through the gag, tried to tell him that he was the only man you loved, but you both knew your efforts were futile.

He withdrew, gripped his belt, adopted his default stance. He heaved a deep breath.

“Come in, lads,” he called behind him, not taking his gaze off you. Your stomach tightened.

A thin smile stretched across Price's lips as he watched your eyes widen, your gaze following Simon, Soap, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro as they filtered into the room.

Price bowed at the waist, lowered his voice so only you could hear.

“Seeing as you’re so keen to show ‘em what’s under your clothes, I’m gonna let them use you ‘til you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Horangi

Hong-Jin popped the top button of his jeans, keeping his gaze trained on you, spearing you with a dark stare.

“Did you enjoy giving König and I a little show, Dear?”

Sarcasm nestled in his tone, a viper in a den. But the excitement running parallel beneath it, just shy of its transparent underbelly, was evident.

Hong-Jin slid the zip of his jeans down. Pulled the denim over his hips.

“It’s only fair that I…” He took your hand, placed it at the hem of his underwear. Dipped beneath the band.

His skin was scorching. Something pulsated beneath your fingers.

The implication sat heavy in his tone. In his eyes.

“Return the favour.”

Alejandro

“I didn’t know I was dating such an attention-seeking whore.”

Alejandro’s voice was the roll of thunder across a darkened valley, the weight of a downpour of knives settled into his tone.

Hands behind his back, he stood over you, having resigned you to sitting on your knees, the hardwood floor pushing against your joints.

“Luckily for you, I’m not the type to hold grudges.” A smile played at his lips. One you knew not to trust.

“But he is.”

Alejandro looked to the door, where, from beyond its frame, emerged Rudy. His face held a similar, serpentine pallor, his lips drawn up into a thin smile. Venom in his veins.

“Wasn’t expecting to get blue-balled by (Y/N) earlier, Ale,” came Rudy, his usually sugared demeanour having dropped, the veil between what he was and what he showed to the world slipping away. Retreating.

Alejandro gave him a knowing look. He turned back to you.

“Why don’t you be a good little doll and put your face to the floor. Just like we practised.”

The memory of leashes, lashings and tears flooded your memory. You held back a wanton whimper.

Alejandro’s voice dropped. “And let Rudy see the rest of what you promised him.”

Rodolfo

“I don’t want to have to do this, Cariño. Rudy stood over you, his hands on your shoulders and his face dark. Grim.

His hold on your shoulders tightened.

“But I can’t let your behaviour go…”

He searched your eyes for the right word. His brow furrowed when he found it.

“Unchecked.”

He sighed. Pushed down on your shoulders.

“Come on, Angel. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He told you, pushing harder until you bent to his will.

Now, on your knees, you could see how desperately he needed you.

One hand came to your jaw, thumb trailing to your lip, pulling your mouth open. The other slid down to his belt, sliding it from the buckle. It hissed, pulled tight against the metal. You swallowed.

Rudy’s breath shuttered, and you could tell from the way his hand clenched, the way he slipped the belt from his jeans like a snake, that he was enjoying this. Much more than he wanted to let on.

“Now remember, mi Amor, no teeth, no biting.” His head tilted. Condescending. “Or I’ll bite you back.”

Graves

He can barely contain himself.

It was only the briefest of flashes. It wasn’t even intentional. But something about your shy smile after the fact once you realised what you’d done sent a vicious little idea to Graves’s head.

He starts stealing all your underwear. Gradually, yet in large enough volumes that he doesn’t have to wait longer than he can handle without his reward.

One day, you come into his office, face warm and tugging an oversized shirt over the top of your thighs.

“Missing something, Darlin’?” Graves drawls. Your eyes narrow at him. You know he’s had something to do with your underwear’s disappearing act.

He puts his papers down, sighs, and rests the back of his head in his hands against the backrest of his chair.

“How about you flash me again. Slowly, now.” His eyes glint with a dark mischief and want.

“Y’don’t wanna know what happens if you don't do it the way I like it.”

Gaz

“Oh, Darling, look what you’ve done,” Gaz’s voice carried despite the thickening tension in the room. Neither of you needed to look down to see what he was referring to.

Despite the chastising tone in his voice, his eyes were warm. Kind, almost.

“If you wanted my attention so badly, you only had to ask.”

He stepped towards you, placing a hand under your jaw. He smiled.

“It’s only fair that I reward you for being so creative, isn’t it ?”

His other hand came to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your tank top until it fell, leaving the sweeping juncture between your neck and shoulder exposed.

Has bit back a shuttering breath.

Despite his gentile voice, an angeline choir, the soundtrack of mercy, there lay a hunger in his eyes, in his barely-restrained grip, that suggested a beast lurked beneath his pretty boy exterior.

And you knew from the way he told you to “Get on the bed – be good for me,” that you’d be seeing it tonight.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Reader commenting on Spencer’s hands being cold, and he starts excitedly rambling about the best ways to heat them up, like putting them under armpits. Only to get completely thrown back when she stuffs his hands in her under boob to keep them nice and warm and strong :) <3

Your eyes are drawn to Spencer's hands when he starts curling them into fists, rapidly clenching and unclenching them in the chilly Chicago air. You're sitting cross-legged on the stoop of a witness's home, waiting for JJ to return from questioning her. She'd been uneasy with such a heavy government presence in her home, and you don't blame her for it, so you'd elected to stay outside with Reid.

"Cold, Spence?" You ask, and he nods sheepishly, his curls flying.

"I'm trying to get circulation back to my fingers," He explains, shaking his hands out for a brief second before curling them again, "Moving your fingers gets your blood flowing, but there's only so warm I can get in 30-degree weather."

You smile sympathetically at him, watching as his nails dig into his palms once more with a curl of his fingers, "Maybe we can bribe JJ to get us coffee on the way back to the precinct."

"They never give me the sugar I ask for," Spencer laments, shaking out his fingers once more, "I think they think I'm trying to steal their supply, but I really just like having eight packets in one cup."

The snort that you let out releases a puff of visible breath into the cold morning air. As it dissipates Spencer tries breathing into his hands, but his skin is still pale, nail beds dangerously close to turning purple, and you sigh resignedly.

"Come here, Spence," You hold your hands out, and he looks curiously up at you. His head tilts just barely to the side, and you're reminded of a confused puppy.

"Give me your hands," You urge, emphasizing the way that you're holding yours out. He does so without question, but you can tell that you've certainly improved circulation to his face, because his cheeks are blazing hot with a rosy blush when he obeys.

"Body heat really helps," You promise, unzipping the fabric of your FBI windbreaker. You hold both of Spencer's hands in your free hand now, but when your jacket is properly unzipped you lead his hands straight to your torso. They're posed on your ribcage, and Spencer stills, watching the way that they touch you with wide eyes.

"Under- there," You slip his hands up an inch, letting them slip into the space beneath your bra, your skin flushed with natural heat that soaks into Spencer's veins like sunlight to a wilting plant. Contrary to the body heat now flooding his limbs he's frozen, eyes wide and jaw slack as you stuff his hands beneath your chest.

"That better?" You ask, shimmying slightly in place and jostling his hands. Your bra slips further over the backs of his hands and only makes them warmer, enveloping him in even more of your body heat. He gulps, you actually see his throat bob, and nods silently, still leaned forwards to take in more of your warmth.

"Thanks," He breathes, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like he's not about to combust.

You're almost certain that his hands are barely thawed at all when JJ steps abruptly out of the front doors of the building, and her boots skid to a stop in front of you and Spencer. You glance up at her with a warm smile, but Spencer yanks his hands away, wringing them out in his lap with wide eyes.

"Uh, she was- we were just... my hands-" Spencer babbles, and the more he struggles, the more her smirk grows over her face.

"His hands were cold," You explain, reaching out to grab them once more and squeezing the barely-tepid skin, "Let's hurry and get into the car, we can turn the heat on full blast."

You've seen Spencer exhibit a mild jog while chasing unsubs, his gun held at his side like it's a bag of bricks, but he skitters to the SUV faster than you've ever seen him move, leaving you and JJ behind on the steps of the apartment building.

"So, did he put his hands there, or did you?" JJ asks, and you don't need to see her face; you know from the mirth in her voice that she's still smirking as you stand up.

"I did," You grunt, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like you're not about to combust, "He was shivering, JJ. What was I supposed to do, let him freeze to death?"

"No, no," She raises her hands in a gesture of surrender but her voice still contains that sadistic amusement, "You're right. A word of advice, though: next time, stick his hands between your thighs. It's a lot warmer down there."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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mariasont · 5 months

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Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him.

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus.

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain.

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours.

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly.

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth.

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment.

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud.

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #hotch #hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x bau reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #Spotify

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animexts · 1 year

Text

Please don't die | Megumi Fushiguro

Sumarry: Megumi feels his world crumble when he sees Y/n on the brink of death.

Paring: Megumi X Mother figure!Reader | WC: 2.877

A/N: Well, I'm sorry for any mistakes I made here, I'll review it later. This story, the reader is Gojo's wife.

Main masterlist | jjk Masterlist

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Megumi feels her body freeze when she sees Y/n's body being thrown by the curse they were facing.

"Y/n-sensei!" He hears Itadori screaming in the background, but all he can pay attention to is Y/n's bleeding body lying unconscious on the floor.

“It's not your fault”

Is what she would say to him, and then she would give him that smile that manages to relax his whole body.

Y/n was a special grade sorceress, and to Megumi, she was not only the best sorceress, but also the best person.

She was smart, responsible, loving and just the best mother he could ever have.

"Why didn't you fucking take care of her?"

Megumi thinks, clenching her fists with all her strength.

He never thought he would want Gojo's presence as much as he does now.

As if his legs were moving by themselves, he was running over to Y/n and kneeling beside her body.

"Sensei please wake up." He says rocking her gently.

"Sensei please... please don't die mom." He says crying and rubbing his hand on her face.

If he was a little stronger, if he was faster, he never wanted to fulfill the promise he made with Gojo a few years ago so much.

"Listen Megumi, since we're going to share Y/n, you need to promise me that you'll take care of her with your life." Gojo says looking seriously at the Boy.

"She's strong, I don't think she needs my protection." The boy says with his arms crossed. "She's strong yes, but it turns out she'd rather protect those she loves than herself." Megumi looks at Gojo and sighs

"Okay, I promise to protect her"

And during her lifetime, Megumi saw how right Gojo was, Y/n put herself in danger several times to save him or some of the students, both first and second years.

"They're just kids"

Was what she always said.

And unfortunately, that's what was happening now, Y/n spent the day exorcising curses practically alone, as seeing how Itadori and Nobara were still hurt from the previous mission, it sure exhausted her.

"Please Mom, don't leave me too." Megumi says hugging Y/n's body.

He is so desperate, he didn't even notice Gojo coming and finally exorcising the curse.

The Shaman feels his blood run cold when he sees his wife covered in blood, it was even sadder to see Megumi in that state.

"Megumi, let's take her to shoko." Satoru says trying to take his wife from Megumi's arms.

"No! don't take her away from me!" He says holding tighter.

"Come on Megumi, if I take her it will be faster, please is my wife you're holding." Gojo says and Megumi, still reluctant, hands Y/n to Gojo, who immediately leaves.

"Don't worry, Y/n sensei Is one.of the strongest people I've ever met, well she and Gojo sensei." Itadori says putting his hand on Megumi's shoulder.

The strongest couple

Megumi remembers perfectly well only the day when Gojo introduced Y/n to him and his sister. Unlike Gojo, Y/n was responsible, more serious and easier to talk to.

"Here you are, my beautiful wife Y/n!" Gojo says putting his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm not your wife." Y/n says pushing him, and bending down to be at the children's height.

"You're not YET"

"Hi, don't worry, me and this idiot here will take good care of you two." Y/n says, and gives the kids a warm smile.

And that's what she's been doing since they met, Megumi thinks, no, rehash that, he KNEW he wouldn't be the man he is today if it weren't for Y/n's (and Gojo's, of course) incredible upbringing.

"You're worried about sensei aren't you?" Nobara says, as the three walk back to the school.

"I'm sure you don't have to worry, she's pretty tough!" Itadori says smiling.

"I hope you're right." Megumi says, and feels her palms sweat when they arrive at school, and see Gojo sitting on the stairs.

"Look who's here! It took you a while huh." Gojo says standing up and Megumi sighs in relief.

Even though he knows that his sensei is very good at hiding his feelings, he knows that the feeling of losing his wife, best friend, could not be hidden.

Gojo looks at him and sees the anguish on his face.

"She's fine, she's in there resting." He says, and Megumi's face turns red.

"I knew!" Itadori says jumping up.

"You two can go rest, Megumi and I are having a family reunion here with Miss Saves Everyone's Life." Gojo says, and he and Megumi head to their rooms.

"I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect her as I should have and as I promised you." Megumi says as the two walk to their rooms.

"I know how much you love her, and you tried to protect her, just like I know how stubborn my wife is, when she wants to protect someone, nobody can stop her." Gojo says and notices that Megumi has clenched her fists.

"I thought you were used to her craziness by now." Satoru says trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of almost losing her."

"Me neither" Gojo thinks.

Gojo knocks on the door, and opens it carefully, Megumi almost cries when she sees the state of the woman who always conveys that powerful and independent aura.

"Gumi!" Y/n speaks softly but with happiness in her voice when she sees the younger boy.

"Sensei..." He says quietly, as he doesn't trust his voice anymore.

"Oh Gumi, I was so worried about you." She says with teary eyes.

"I... I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect you like I should have." Megumi bows with her eyes closed, making Gojo and Y/n look at him in surprise.

"What are you talking about? I should protect you Gumi, I know I'm not your blood mother but-"

"Don't finish that sentence, you are my mother, and I owe you my life you've protected me my whole life, I want to protect you now... mom." Megumi says crying.

"Oh my love come here." Y/n says opening his arms, making the younger boy immediately fall into the woman's embrace, just like when he was younger.

"You'll always be my baby." Y/n says and kisses Megumi's head, you might think he wouldn't like it, but coming from her, he almost cries from her affection.

"I think for the sake of my sanity, and Megumi's, you better stop giving your life for others, because baby I swear that if you die, the world will gain two crazy mad sorcerers." Gojo says taking off his blindfold.

"And we don't want that right?" Y/n says laughing.

"No, definitely not." Megumi responds by laughing too.

Gojo and Y/n look at each other smiling fondly, they were doing a good job.

"Family hug!" Gojo says lying on top of Megumi.

"You're going to hurt Y/n you freak, get out of here." Megumi says trying to push Gojo away.

They weren't the most perfect family of all, but there was more love than many out there.

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#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jjk gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #anime

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crashandlivewrites · 9 months

Text

Hear the Dogs Howling

Dedicated to the lovely @soapsgf for allowing me to ramble and bounce ideas off as I wrote this, along with being so sweet and helping me grow my confidence. This is for you.

Pairing: Dom!Ghost x fem!switch!reader x switch!Soap

Summary: Soap doesn't know how to stay quiet during sex. Tonight is no different. When you finally knock on his door to get him to tone it down, you walk in on a scene you weren't entirely expecting to see.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, MMF threesome, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving vaginal; m receiving anal), anal sex (m receiving), mild dubcon as Soap is initially choking on cock but he's into it, minor pet play (Soap is referred to as pup)

Read on Ao3

Soap was a noisy neighbour. There was no other way to put it. You’d been rooming next to him for a good while now ever since you were placed on the task force, and he always found a way to disturb your peace. Whether it was the sound of his music, or telly being up too loud, or his booming laughter as he chatted on the phone, or his or his partner’s noises of pleasure as he fucked them into the squeaky bed the base provided.

Sure, you might have been jealous, picturing him above you, behind you, beneath you instead of them. Yes, you may have also touched yourself listening to his moans, wishing he was making those sounds for you, but you thought better of actually doing something about it. Pushed those feelings deep, deep down. Ruining the team dynamic, especially when you were the newest member put you more at risk than the others of transfer, or worse, discharge.

Shaking your head, you broke out of your chain of thoughts, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the report before you. Price wanted it by tomorrow. Demanded it by tomorrow. Cursing, you rested your forehead on your palms, trying to keep yourself awake as the half-empty cup of coffee remained stagnant next to you. Two pages left. That’s all you had to get through.

And then you heard it. A muffled moan from next door. Fucking Soap and his inability to keep it in his pants for more than a few days.

Clenching your teeth, you snapped your head over your shoulder, glaring at the wall as if you could curse him into silence. But, knowing Soap, this was only the beginning. The man knew how to fuck, and had the stamina to keep on going, meaning if you didn’t put a pin in this now, you were going to be listening to the sounds of your teammate fucking for the next few hours.

Sitting in your chair, you debated for a few minutes, wondering if it really was something you wanted to walk in on, or interrupt at the very least. Tapping your foot and the pen in your hand in a steady rhythm, you tried to focus on the report before you, but after another five minutes of staring into empty space and the sounds from next door filling your head, you caved. Pushing the chair back, you marched over to your adjoining wall, banging on it harshly.

“Keep it down, Soap! I have shit to do for Price.”

You thought that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t. As though he was intentionally trying to spite you, the noises got progressively louder, more frequent. You’d slammed on the wall more times than you’d care to admit before you finally snapped.

Slamming your door open, you march over to Soap’s room and bang your fist against his. But instead of it being solid, the door gave way, swinging open to reveal a scene you’d never thought you’d walk in on. Instead of Soap being on top of a pretty girl, he was on his knees, stark naked with his lips stretched wide around a thick cock that was being shoved down his throat. And not just any cock. Ghost’s cock. Your mouth sagged open slightly as your eyes flicked over the pair of them, taking in Soap’s bare form and comparing it to Ghost’s fully clothed one.

Making a small noise of protest, Soap shuffled his weight on his knees and went to pull back, but Ghost was quicker, gloved hand reaching down to grip Soap’s mohawk firmly, keeping him pressed into his crotch.

“Ah! Did I say you could move, pup?” Ghost’s voice was stern and deep, stirring something deep inside you. In reply, Soap whined, blinking up at the larger man. It was only then that you noticed tears streaming down his face. Your breath hitched as you finally turned your gaze towards Ghost who was staring directly at you.

His dark eyes were sharp and calculated, locking you in place as you stood stock still in the doorway. It was like your shoes were rooted to the spot and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the erotic scene even if you tried.

“You just gonna stand there and gape at the slut?” Ghost cocked his head to the side, his eyes squinting in amusement. “Or are you gonna make yourself useful, Sergeant?”

The resolve in you crumbled. If Ghost and Soap could fuck with seemingly little consequence, surely you were fine to join as well. Feeling the heat bubble inside you, and your heart thump in your chest, you knew there was only one correct answer moving forward.

Swallowing thickly, you shut the door behind you.

Despite the balaclava covering his face, you could see the interest spark in Ghost’s eyes at your actions. His eyes crinkled as he looked down at Soap, who whined pitifully, drool leaking out the sides of his mouth as he held position.

“Seems like you’ve got another playmate, pup.” Ghost rumbled, carding his fingers through Soap’s hair gently as you walked forward, steps muffled by your socks on the wood floor. “You gonna put on a show for our guest?”

Soap moaned, wet lashes fluttering as glanced between you and Ghost before beginning to bob his head in a slow rhythm along Ghost’s cock. The masked man let out a sharp hiss, fingers gripping Soap’s hair roughly as he grunted in pleasure. You stood there, less than a metre away from the pair, watching, feeling the heat of arousal spread through your body, accumulating between your thighs. Your mind raced, wondering how exactly you were going to fit into this scenario, but that question was answered when Soap reached a hand up towards you, stretching out his fingers.

You kneel down next to him, lacing your fingers through his as his mouth continues to work. Soap’s own cock was rock hard, twitching slightly between his parted legs as the tip drooled pre-cum, pooling on the floor beneath him. He squeezes your hand in thanks and moans prettily, glancing towards you through the corners of his eyes and you grin, leaning in to purr into his ear.

“You’re doing such a good job, pup. Putting on such a good show for me, aren’t you?” Despite the Ghost bullying his heavy cock down Soap’s throat, he whined at your words, opening his mouth even wider to accomodate the thickness. You cooed at him encouragingly, your other hand tracing circles on his back as Ghost groaned.

Thrusting his hips forwards, he bumped his dick into the back of Soap’s throat causing him to gag. You could see the bulge of his cock every time he bucked his hips forwards, yet Soap swallowed eagerly, one hand laced in yours and the other resting on his thigh, twitching with every bounce of his cock.

It was now your turn to stare up at Ghost from your position on the floor and you almost wished you hadn’t. He was a sight. Large and imposing as he stood over the pair of you, eyes darkened with lust as he stared. Your mouth went dry as his mere gaze sent another rush of desire through you, shivers running up your spine as you squeezed your legs together, trying to stave off the lust. He reaches a gloved hand down to cup your cheek, then your neck, tipping your chin up to hold your attention.

“Can I touch him?” You breathed, voice barely audible over the excited yet muffled noises Soap was making at your words.

“Good pups don’t touch themselves.” Ghost answered, brow raising. “He can cum from just sucking me. Sure you don’t wanna see that?”

You had to admit, watching Soap cum without any direct stimulation would be enticing, but you couldn’t wait. You needed to touch him. After months of hearing him fuck, and presumably be fucked, you were finally getting to live out your deepest desire. You shake your head, keeping your eyes fixed on Ghost.

“Not right now. Wanna stroke his cock and watch him lose his mind as he gets you off.” Ghost simply cocked his head to the side before turning his attention back to Soap, but it was Soap who reacted viscerally. His hips stuttered; cock bobbed between his legs as he began to tremble. You felt a sly grin flash over your face.

“Look at you… so excited to be touched? Is that it?” Releasing his hand, you move your own to stroke his thigh, running your hand along the inside, feeling his muscles twitch beneath his skin. “Such a good pup, aren’t you.” He nodded as best he could with a cock down his throat.

Reaching down between his legs, you swipe a finger through the small pool of pre-cum on the floor and move to circle the head of his cock with your fingertip. He whined, hips canting forward to seek more stimulation, which you granted. Wrapping your hand around his cock, you began to stroke him with a light grip, in time with the bobbing of his head. Soap shivered, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hand touch, and he built up a steady rhythm, causing your hand to move quicker. He moaned, eagerly swallowing down Ghost’s dick to the base, causing him to hiss, gloved fingers tugging at Soap’s mohawk.

“Good fucking pup. Look at you. Swallowing me so well. Makin’ a fuckin’ mess as you do.” Ghost’s dark eyes flicked over to you, before reaching over and cupping your cheek. Breath hitching, you raised your head up to look as him as your hand continued to work over Soap’s slick cock.

“You’re bein’ such a good girl too. Takin’ care of my pup. Makin’ sure he doesn’t get too antsy. Can be a right pain in my ass sometimes.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as you ducked your head, glancing away from him and back to Soap who was pumping his hips forward, desperate for the pace to increase. His eyes flick to yours pleadingly and his hips moved, brows pinched together as he made a muffled noise of impatience.

“Stop touching him.” Ghost growled his command as he yanked Soap’s head back as you pulled your hand back quickly. Letting out a multitude of protests, Soap’s brows furrowed as he glared up at Ghost.

“The fuck did ah dae?” His tone was petulant, accent thick as he coughed, heaving air into his lungs.

“Bein’ fuckin’ impatient, pup.” Ghost leaned down, leering at Soap who squirmed under the stern gaze. “We have someone nice enough to come in and touch that needy cock of yours, and you’re actin’ like a brat. Rein it in, or I’m gonna fuck your face like a slag I’m payin’ and leave you hard and leaking.”

Soap kept his head low, but you could see the pout evident on his face. His eyes remained cast down as he nodded in response to Ghost’s words before reaching back up to fill his mouth. A strong hand pressed to his shoulder, stopping him going any further.

“Open your mouth and use it for fuckin’ words like your s’posed to.” Soap glowered, huffing before he turned his head towards you.

“Sorry fer bein’ impatient. Ye can touch me how ye want.” You smiled at him for a moment, before Ghost’s fingers tapped on your cheek, turning your attention to him.

“Keep him in line, or after I’m through with him, I’ll show you how to properly keep a pup in line.” His soft, yet deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and you felt wetness pool in your panties, sticking to you.

“Yes sir.” Ghost let out a barely audible breath at your submission as his thumb stroked along your cheek bone.

“Keep that up and maybe I’ll fuck you too sweet thing.” Your mouth parted as your head tilted back, angling slightly as Ghost stooped lower, as though he was about to kiss you through the mask before he pulled back. Wrapping a hand around the base of his thick cock, he fed it into Soap’s open and willing mouth, cupping the back of his head before thrusting deep. Soap gagged at the sudden intrusion but kept the dick deep in his throat as he swallowed around it.

Spitting on your hand, you wrapped it back around Soap’s cock, mixing between long, languid strokes down his full length and quick, sharp ones over his dripping head. Soap trembled at the changes, body shaking slightly as he remained still for you. Cooing into his ear, the pace of your hand increased slightly.

“Look at you, pup. Sitting so pretty for me now, aren’t you. Bet you look real sweet when you cum too.” Soap moaned out an affirmative, one of his hands cupping the back of Ghost’s muscled thigh as his other reached for your leg, resting high up near the apex of your thighs, but refusing to lift any higher until he was told so. You grinned at his good behaviour.

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Wanna be a good boy and spill all over my hand?” Soap moaned again, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he continued to suck off his teammate, messy and sloppy as drool dripped down his chin.

“Oh, fuck yeah, love. Make him moan like that again.” Ghost grunted; eyes closed as he continued to shallowly thrust. Not wanting to displease either man, you tightened your grip and swept your thumb along the ridges of Soap’s cock head, teasing his frenulum as you went. Letting out a keening sound, Soap’s dick twitched in your grip as his hips bucked into your hand, the grip on your thigh tightening.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Leaning forward, you whispered into Soap’s ear, before mouthing kisses down the line of his neck to his back as your other hand cupped his ass. “Come on, pup. Do it. Do it for me.”

The cock in his throat meant the moan came out garbled, but his hips jerked forward erratically as he reached his climax. With every heavy twitch of his cock in your hand, a thick pulse of cum shot out, adding to the mess already on the floor.

“Fuckin’ hell pup.” Ghost growled, both hands now gripping at Soap’s hair as the pace of his hips picked up, shallowly thrusting into Soap’s mouth as he moaned, eyes still rolling from his climax as Ghost used his teeth to take his right glove off before pulling out and stroking his cock roughly, releasing his load over Soap’s face, grunting as his whole body shivered, breath coming out in short pants.

Once he’d finished, Ghost tucked his cock back into his pants, before pulling the chair up from Soap’s desk and sitting down. Unsure of what to do next, you glanced over at him, brows furrowed slightly as you waited for direction. Noticing, Ghost cocked his head to the side, before his eyes squinted appraisingly.

“Soap could learn a thing or two from you, love. So well behaved, you are.” You went to face him, but he held up a hand, stopping you from moving any further. “The pup’s quite messy there. Why don’t you give him a hand cleaning all that up?”

Eyes widening, to glanced over to Soap, who was dragging a finger through the mess of cum on his face and holding it out to you.

“C’mon, bonnie thing. Show how good ye can be fer him. Fer us.” Soap’s eyes darkened as he stared at you expectantly and suddenly, you realised precisely how fucked you were.

Your eyes followed his hand as he held it out towards you, Ghost’s cum dripping down his finger enticingly. Without further thought, you leaned forward on your knees, lips closing around the outstretched digit. Soap’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced over at Ghost, his mouth dropping open slightly as you licked and sucked his finger clean of cum. Pulling back, you swiped your thumb over his cheekbone, and then, keeping your eyes fixed to Soap’s, you sucked your own thumb clean as well.

“Fucking Christ, hen.” His tone was breathy, his hands reaching out to push you down onto your ass on the cold floor. Your hands flew out behind you to break your fall as he nudged his way between your legs, pressing into your space with an intense need. “S’fuckin bonnie fer me. Been listening to me fer months, haven’t ye?” He whispered into your ear as his hands groped greedily at your body.

“Gonna make ye feel s’good, I promise.” You were barely able to process his words as he tugged at your shirt, shucking it up and tugging your bra down to expose your breasts so he could latch onto one with his teeth, moaning as he did so. Letting out a sharp gasp of pain, you smacked his shoulder, eyes staring down at him accusingly. Soap released your breast and pouted.

“Ye’ve got such bonnie tits, hen. Couldnae help maself.” His mouth spread wide in a toothy grin as he reached out to cup the breast he bit, squeezing it apologetically as his eyes traced over the marks his teeth left. “Wanted ye fer months. Thought ye wouldnae have me.”

“I wanted you.” You breathed; eyes wide with surprise at his confession. “Always did. Thought it ruin things. Thought that it wouldn’t be professional.” Even in your ears, the words were a weak excuse. Soap’s grin spread even wider.

“Touch yerself at the sound of me, aye?” His hands roamed your body, roughly groping at every piece of bare skin he could access. He lowered his mouth to your tits once more, sucking the nipple tenderly this time, tongue laving over the swell of your breast as he moaned. “Was extra loud fer ye too. Hopin’ ye’d break that door down sooner. Didnae take ye as the patient type.”

“Shut up.” You hissed, arching your back as his hand reached for your other nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. Lifting a hand up, you carded it through his hair, tugging at the strands lightly, his mouth still firmly attached to your breast, sucking dark, claiming marks into your skin.

“Tug it harder, love.” Came a rumbling voice from behind you. Breath hitching in surprise, you glanced up, remembering Ghost was still in the room watching the two of you intently. One hand sat at the seat of his pants, rubbing softly and you couldn’t help but moan at the sight. Blinking once more, you turned your attention back to Soap and, heeding Ghost’s instructions, tugged at the mohawk a little firmer. Soap let out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering slightly, but it wasn’t enough to break his attack your chest.

Closing your hand over his hair tighter, you pulled roughly, harder than you’d meant to, but you were rewarded with a strangled moan as you wrenched Soap back from your chest. His eyes were glassy as his hips canted forwards. Ghost mumbled his praise at the action, and you felt a stir in your chest.

“That’s nae fair, bonnie.” Soap growled. “Ye’ve had ye fun teasin’ me.” His brows furrowed as he pulled back, making you lose your grip on his hair. Moving quickly, he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand as the other reached for the buttons of your pants.

“Gonna show ye what I dae tae wee sluts who play dirty.” His eyes were wild as bore down on you, nose brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Gonna tease ye till yer gaggin fer ma cock.”

Before he could make another move though, a sharp whistle sounded, and you both snapped your heads up in Ghost’s direction. He was lounging back on the chair, head tilted and resting on one first as the other cupped his bulge. His eyes narrowed towards Soap.

“Thought I trained you better than that, pup. Manners.” The tone was stern, unwavering and was met with a soft whine from Soap. “Take her pants off and finger her pussy. If you make her come, you’ll get a reward.”

As though the instructions sparked something in Soap, his rough hands turned soft as he began to caress your body, slowly sliding up your sides to remove your shirt and bra properly. He cooed; eyes soft as they roamed appreciatively over your body. He dragged his hands down your torso, trailing down to the waistband of your pants. His breath was coming out in heaving pants as his fingers made quick work of the buttons, pulling both your pants and underwear down in one go.

“Steamin’ Jesus hen.” Soap groaned, throwing the clothes to the side so he could return his hands to your body, sliding over your ass and up your legs before spreading them apart, eyes focused on your soaked cunt. The heat and desire in his eyes alone made your cunt pulse. “Jus’ wanna sink ma teeth into ye.”

“Play nice, pup. Don’t wanna break your chew toy too early.” Ghost muses from his spot. Your eyes meet his and suddenly, you realise just how exposed you were. Soap may have also been naked, but the way Ghost’s eyes were roaming over your bare body and grinding against his palm made your face heat.

“Cannae help maself, Lt.” Soap leaned down, mouth trailing kisses along your thigh, working his way down towards the apex of them. His teeth dragged over the sensitive skin, leaving red marks, but not hard enough to break skin. You felt your body jerk as his warmth breath fanned over your leaking cunt and you whine pitifully.

“Please… Soap. Need it. Need you.” Your hands pushed through his hair, gripping tightly as you tried to angle his face towards your wetness. Groaning at your impatience, he lowered his mouth, flat tongue dragging a line from your hole to clit. Letting out a shuddering gasp, you arched your back, fingers tugging at his mohawk to hold him close. But that didn’t last long.

The chair creaked as Ghost pushed himself up, boots heavy as he marched over and wrenched Soap’s head up unkindly, causing him to cry out. “I said, finger her pussy, not eat it, impatient slag.” He spat in Soap’s ear, voice low and harsh. You whined at the loss, bucking your hips up to chase his mouth, but Ghost’s hand pushed you back down. “Look at you both. Such greedy fucking whores. You take what I tell you to.”

Your brows pinched as you stared up at Ghost.

“Please Ghost… please I need it. Need his mouth on me.” Reaching out, you clasped your hand over one of his thick forearms, squeezing as your eyes pleaded up to him. Ghost sighs, bringing one hand up to sweep the hair from your face as he leans in to whisper into your ear, other hand still firmly gripping Soap’s hair, causing him to huff petulantly as he was dragged away.

“The pup’s gotta learn to listen, love. I’m not punishing you, yet anyway. If you’re good, and you cum on Johnny’s fingers, he can eat you out. Got it?” He leaned back slightly, eyes soft as he waited expectantly for your reply. Nodding in response, you went to look down at Soap again, but Ghost’s rough hand in your hair stopped you. “No. Words, love. If I ask you a question, you answer it with words.”

“Yes, I got it.” You breathed; eyes glassy as you stared up at him. “I’ve got it sir. I’m sorry.” Ghost let out a gentle sigh, hand releasing your hair as he stroked your chin tenderly.

“There’s a good girl f’me.” His gaze then hardens as he turns to face Soap. “Remember the rules, pup. You listen to me. Now finger her wet cunt until she cums or you won’t be getting your dick wet.” Soap’s nose crinkled slightly; brows furrowed as he stared at Ghost.

“That’s nae fair, Lt. The lass was leakin’. Pure gaggin’ fer it.” His hands run gentle lines on your inner thighs as he spoke, and you felt the anticipation rising.

“Then make sure to use those fingers to make it good for her and she’ll get it. You always yabber on about how good you are at pleasing pussy. Show me, then.” Ghost cocks his head expectantly and you felt like nothing but a toy for Soap to play with in that instant, and boy if that didn’t send a fresh wave of arousal down your spine.

“I’m better with ma mouth than ma fingers.” He sulked, pouting up at his superior.

“Then you’d better learn quick, Johnny.” Despite the mask, you could hear the grin, see his eyes crinkling as he waved his hand towards your cunt. “Go on, pup. She got you off with her hand. Return the favour.”

Mumbling incoherently, Soap trailed his fingers towards your wet cunt, eyes flicking up to meet yours and smirking slightly. Dragging the tips of his fingers through, he gathered your wetness and began to circle your clit slowly. Shuffling forward slightly, he leaned over you before hesitating and turning back to Ghost.

“Can ah suck her tits?” His question was measured, as if he hated asking permission, but thought better of it. Ghost chuckled behind the mask.

“Good pup for askin’. Does she want you to suck her tits?” Soap snapped his head down to you, eyes wide as pleading. Grinning, you nodded encouragingly.

“Please, Soap.” Grabbing at your breasts, you shoved them together enticingly, causing Soap to moan and lean forward, burying his face between them, tongue dragging over the warm flesh before his mouth closes over one nipple, sucking intently as his fingers flick over your clit.

Moaning softly, you spread your legs wider, encouraging him to keep going. And he did. His fingers were on the rough side as he continued to roam, trying to find what you liked. Reaching down, you moved his hand slightly, positioning it exactly how you liked it, and he took it on board, working his fingers in this new spot as his teeth closed over your nipple, making you cry out.

“Pathetic. Needing to be shown where she likes it pup. Can’t find it on ya own?” Ghost rumbled, shaking his head as he continued to brush a hand through your hair tenderly. “Look at her cunt, weeping and clenching round nothing. Come on, pup. You’re not even trying to make her cum.”

Soap whined at the words and, desperate to prove himself, his fingers moved to circle your hole before pushing two in. You hissed slightly at the sudden stretch of his thick fingers but moaned as his thumb continued to flick over your clit and clenched down on his fingers.

“Curl them upwards.” Ghost whispered, his other hand trailing down to where Soap’s was between your legs. You twitched as you felt the rough material of his gloves against your sensitive pussy. “Get that spot right in here.” You couldn’t stop the loud moan that broke through your lips as Soap followed the instructions, hand reaching down to grip at his wrist as your hips ground against his fingers, building up a steady rhythm.

Grinning darkly against your chest, Soap continued to suck at your breasts, squeezing and nipping at the sensitive skin as your pussy squeezed around him, slick dripping down onto the hard floor beneath you.

“That’s it, bonnie. Fuck yerself on ma fingers. Can feel ye clenchin’. Dinnae ye wanna cum fer me? Ye can dae it.” He rambled; voice muffled against your chest as he quickened his pace at your clenching.

“Don’t speed up.” Ghost admonished him, smacking his hand down where Soap’s was inside you, causing you to jolt. “If she likes it, keep steady. She’ll let you know if she wants the pace changed.” You moaned in response to Ghost’s words, one hand clutching at Soap’s wrist, the other reaching for Ghost to squeeze him in thanks.

“Just like that, Johnny. Keep it like that!” Panting, you continued to grind down on his fingers. He pulled off your tits, leaning down to spit on your clit before bringing his other hand over to rub over it like you showed him before. Gasping, you squeezed around his fingers tighter, feeling your impending climax build. His hungry eyes bored into yours, his face twisting into a leering sneer.

“Feels good aye? Gonna cum, bonnie? Make a mess all over ma fingers?” Unable to form a coherent sentence, you whined, hand squeezing his wrist to hold him inside you, pleading silently for him not to pull out. “Nae goin’ anywhere. Stayin’ right here til ye cum.”

Your eyes rolled as you moaned, head falling back, only for a rough hand to grasp your hair and pull you back up.

“You keep lookin’ at him, love and you don’t look away. Show him how fucked out you look when you cum.” Ghost’s words were harsh as he positioned himself behind you but sent a sharp bolt of heat through you and Soap moaned as he felt your cunt clench and pulse. “Yeah, that’s it, love. Be a good girl now. Show him how good he’s makin’ you feel.”

“So fu- ah! So fucking good, sir.” You blinked up at Ghost, whose eyes were wide and feral. Adjusting you slightly, he pressed his hips into your back, and you felt his stiff erection pressing against your shoulder.

“Feel what you’re doin’ to me? Feel how hard you’ve made me? Been such a good girl yeah? Lookin’ so fuckin’ pretty with your fucked out face when you ain’t even had a cock in you yet.” Panting at Ghost’s harsh words, you glanced back down at Soap, eyes wide and desperate.

“I’m gonna cum. Soap please! I can’t...” He shook his head, body trembling.

“Give it tae me, hen. Please. Been such a good fuckin’ lass fer us. Show me how bonnie ye look when ye cum, aye?” Your brain was going into overdrive, stimulated by not only Soap fingers, but his and Ghost’s desperate words, the intensity of their eyes on you… you felt yourself crumbling, careening towards the edge as one more flick of Soap’s fingers sent you over.

Jerking your hips, you cried out, body shaking as Ghost wrapped his arms around you, cooing in your ear and talking you through your orgasm, but you couldn’t make sense of the words. Soap’s fingers softly worked you through your release, slowly pumping in and out of you until he felt your body sag. Withdrawing his digits, he held them out to Ghost, a sly grin on his face.

“Wanna taste, Lt?” Looking up lazily at the two of them, you noted Ghost’s narrowed eyes. But they weren’t focused on Soap due to his coy request, but rather his glistening fingers soaked with your climax. Pulling the balaclava up to expose his mouth, Ghost leaned forward, sucking Soap’s thick fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste. Whining softly at the erotic sight, you reached back behind you, trying to wrap your hand around his clothed cock, but his gloved hand stopped you.

“Not right now, love. Need to see Johnny fuck you.” He whispered, squeezing your wrist tenderly before lifting himself up a little straighter. “C’mon pup. I can see you leaking from here.”

“Och, I thought I was eatin’ her out next!” He grumbled, body already halfway shifted to put his head between your legs.

“Plans changed. You can eat your cum out of her. Need to see her crying on a cock, now.” His voice was urgent, as he pressed his palm into his aching erection. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

At the warning, Soap scrambled back up your body, lowering his head to capture your lips in a kiss for the first time. His tongue pressed into your mouth, sweeping over yours as he shuffled his legs up until you felt the heat of his hard dick against your sensitive pussy. Everything about him was demanding and insistent, impatient as one hand clawed at your breast. The other was wrapped around his cock, sliding it up and down the length of your wet slit, catching your clit with his head and causing you to jerk. Breaking away from the kiss, you surged up, eyes transfixed on the glistening head of his cock, covered in your slick.

Grinning savagely, he pressed inside, both hands gripping at your hips as he let out a throaty groan as your own breath stuttered, reaching out to grasp at his arm for stability.

“Steamin’ hell she’s tight, Lt. Like she’s nae been fucked in a wee bit.” His nails dug into the skin of your waist, surely leaving marks that would remain for days after. Ghost grunted and you heard him unzipping his pants. Glancing over, you watched as he pulled out his heavy cock, thick and hard with his tip flushed and leaking. Tugging his glove off, he held out his hand to Soap, who spat on it without a second thought. Then, he held his hand out to you with an expectant look. Without hesitation, you spat in his palm as well and he moaned, closing his hand around his cock and pumping it steadily.

Before you’d even gotten accustomed to his size, Soap began to thrust, hard and fast from the get-go. He buried his face into your neck, whining and rambling nonsense about how good it was, but most of it was incoherent, his accent thickening as he continued to erratically slam his hips into your cunt. You hissed, the pace bordering on being not pleasurable as he grasped your hips tighter.

“Soap…” you whined, pressing against his shoulders, but the man was unmovable, lost in his own head. Your eyes flicked up desperately to Ghost, who huffed, shuffling down Soap’s body to place a resounding smack on his ass. Yelping, Soap sprung up, cock pulling out of you entirely as he spun around to glare reproachfully at Ghost.

“That hurt, Simon.” He pouted, brows furrowed. Ghost snorted, clearly not feeling sorry.

“You’re pathetic, pup. Losing your head the moment you get your dick in something warm, and you wonder why I don’t let you fuck me.” Soap ducked his head, face flushing as he let out a whine of protest.

“Felt so good, Lt. Couldnae help maself. Her bonnie pussy was grippin’ me like a vice.” He glanced over at you, eyes apologetic, but with a spark of lust, as if he enjoyed Ghost telling him off.

“Not just about you, pup. Do I need to show you how to fuck a pussy?” Soap shook his head indignantly, turning his back on Ghost to bring his attention towards you. Running his calloused hands down your legs, he wrapped them around his waist as the head of his cock caught against your wet hole. Moaning, he slides back inside with ease, hands reaching for your tits once more as he set a better pace, rolling his hips and catching your clit with his pubic hair every pass.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He growled, mouth lowering to latch onto your nipples, tonguing over them as he continued his slow, grinding pace. “Such bonnie tits. Such a bonnie cunt too. Fuck lass, ye been holdin’ out on me. Could have fucked ye sooner if ye weren’t so stubborn.”

Between Soap’s praise, his rocking hips, and the insistent press of his cock inside your cunt, you felt like you were melting into the floor below you.

“Just like that, Soap. God, your cock feels so good in me.” Your hands dragged red lines down his back, causing his pace to stutter and pick up again. Moaning, you felt your second orgasm edging closer as he continued, bucking his hips up to grind against the spongy spot his fingers had fun into before. Ghost kneeled just off to the side, stroking his dick in time with Soap’s thrusts, grunting every time he swiped his thumb over the head.

“That’s it, Johnny. Keep fucking her like that. Doing a good job for once, pup. Touch her clit like she showed ya too.” Soap’s face was flushed as he nodded along with Ghost’s words, reaching down between you. His hips stuttered as you clenched around him at the contact, moaning as his pace fumbled again, legs shaking as his thrusts sped up, breath coming out in short pants. You whined softly, feeling your orgasm fade with the change in pace. Scoffing, Ghost moved behind him, gripping Soap’s hips to halt him once more.

“Losing your head again, pup?” He titters, shaking his head as he mouthed along Soap’s neck. “I’ll show you how to really fuck her, since you clearly can’t without blowing your load early.”

Soap smacked one of the large hands off his hips, glaring over his shoulder.

“Fuck off. I can fuck her just fine. You can wait ye fuckin’ turn, ye bastard.”

Instead of being offended, Ghost chuckled darkly.

“You’re losing her when it starts feelin’ too good for you. But don’t worry pup. I won’t be fucking her.” His arms reach down, tracing over Soap’s to place his hands on your hips as well, holding you steady. At the look in Ghost’s eye, you whimpered softly, cunt squeezing around Soap, causing him to twitch. “I’m going to fuck you into her. Still got that plug in ya, right slag?”

Your eyes widened, realising what was about to happen. Soap was practically vibrating between your legs, breath stuttering as his eyes became unfocused.

“Wouldnae be able to hold it if ye fucked me too.” His voice cracked as he stared over at Ghost.

“Too bad, pup. Already showed me you can’t fuck a pussy properly. Need me to show you how. You alright with that, sweetheart?” He glanced over Soap’s shoulder as his hands reached down to toy with the plug in Soap’s hole that you hadn’t noticed before. Your eyes were wide as you nodded fiercely before remembering Ghost’s earlier request.

“Yes sir… want you to fuck him into me please.” With the mask still lifted up above his mouth, you could see his appreciative grin.

“Good fucking girl. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you what you need.” He reaches his hand down to your mouth, holding out his fingers. “Get them wet f’me, yeah?” Nodding, you lean your head up, sucking his fingers into your mouth, letting saliva pool on your tongue before swiping between the thick digits, tasting the lingering muskiness of his cock on them. Ghost let out a deep rumbling sound in his throat as he began to shove his fingers deeper, pressing down into your throat, gagging you slightly. Cooing softly, Ghost stroked the pads of his fingers along your tongue. “That’s it, love. Just like that.”

Between you both, Soap whined, tipping his head back to rest on Ghost’s shoulder.

“Please, Simon. Please.”

Withdrawing his fingers, Ghost pressed his thick digits into Soap, causing him to fall forward, hands either side of your head as his cock twitched inside you. Breathing softly, you watched his face crease, his brows pinching as his mouth hung open.

“Fuck Si… right there!” He gasped, breath hitching as he rocks his hips back onto Ghost’s fingers, and forwards into your wet cunt. His hands clenched into fists as he opened his eyes to stare into yours before leaning down and sealing his lips over yours once more, hips beginning that same slow, filthy grind. Wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close, you pressed your tongue into his mouth in a messy kiss, swirling it around his.

Your head grew hazy as time passed and you felt your orgasm returning as Soap picked up the pace of his grinding, stimulating your clit as his hands tweaked at your nipples.

“Fuckin’ hell. Still so fuckin’ wet from earlier, pup.” Ghost withdrew his fingers before pressing the blunt head of his cock, catching it against the rim of Soap’s hole, causing him to jerk, fingers digging into your hips. “That’s it, pup. Open up f’me. Let me in ya.” One of Ghost’s large hands wrapped around Soap’s neck, pulling him up and breaking your kiss with him. The other gripped Soap’s hip, pressing in slowly with a loud groan until his hips sat flush against Soap’s. Releasing his neck, Ghost placed his other hand on your hip, squeezing you softly. He set a slow, but harsh pace, hips smacking into Soap’s, causing his cock to punch deep into you as he did so.

Letting out a choked gasp, Soap fell forward again, burying his face into your neck and peppering the sweaty skin with nipping kisses as his hips were pushed forwards into you. Rocking back against him, your hands clutched at his hair desperately, cupping the back of his head as your other hand reach out to Ghost’s thick forearm. Your head was spinning, a strangled noise leaving your mouth as Soap’s tongue dragged its way up your neck.

“Tastes so good, hen. Feel so fuckin’ good too. Wanna feel ye cum ‘round me, please.” One hand tangled in your hair as the other reached down to your clit once more, sending shivers down your spine.

Ghost continued his pace, the loud slapping of skin filling the room as his breathing grew heavier. Soap was also growing desperate, driving his hips forwards and backwards, stimulating himself over and over as his thumb continued to flick over your clit.

“That’s it pup. Doin’ s’fuckin’ well.” Reaching down, Ghost added his own thumb to the mix, flicking over your clit to make sure Soap didn’t lose his rhythm, his eyes catching yours. “Fuckin’ hell look at you, love. So bloody pretty. Can barely look at me, can ya? Cock feels that good, yeah?” He chucked, whispering something inaudible into Soap’s ear as you arched your back, feeling that brink edge closer.

“Ghost… Soap.” You weren’t sure which name to call as you felt your body twitch, pussy clenching around Soap’s cock as he continued to buck his hips into your wetness. You could feel yourself beginning to spiral, eyes locking onto Soap’s face as he panted heavily, a soft whine leaving his lips after every one of Ghost’s heavy thrusts.

“Bonnie… tell me yer close… I’m so fuckin’ close. Need tae feel ye cum first. Please… fuck, oh fuck please. Need it real bad.” Soap practically whispers, one hand clutching at your breasts, your hips, your legs as his other still pressed between you both, covered by Ghost’s larger one.

“Good fuckin’ pup, Johnny. Beggin’ for her to cum ‘n all.” Ghost’s voice was rougher, sweat beaded on his brow as he quickened his pace, fucking into Soap with angled thrusts that made him shiver and whine. “Come on love, you can do it. You can cum for him. Make the pup feel real good, yeah?”

All you could do was nod and moan, fingers digging into weathered skin as your cunt began to pulse rhythmically. One final hard thrust from Ghost pushed Soap up deeper into you as their combined thumbs over your clit sent you hurtling off the edge. As your toes curled with the sensation, your back lifted off the hard floor, hands clutching at the two men desperately as your head spun.

Soap followed soon behind, thrusting quick and sharp up into your clenching cunt before releasing inside, cock twitching and releasing his load deep inside you as he shook with pleasure.

As he shivered through his orgasm, Soap leaned forward, collapsing on your chest as your arms wrapped instinctually around him, both panting in tandem. Not wanting to be left high and dry, Ghost pulled his hips back and set a merciless pace, pounding into Soap’s hole until he began stuttering.

“So fuckin’ tight, pup. Both of you… so fuckin’ pretty. Good fucking sluts. So good f’me. Gonna fuck both of ya next time. Wanna see how good you sit for me, love.” He rambled, eyes half closed as his pace turned erratic until he slammed his hips forward with a low grunt, stomach clenching from the effort as he emptied his load deep into Soap.

Moaning softly at the feeling, Soap stirred, looking over his shoulder accusingly.

“Ye ken I hate shittin’ out cum, ye eejit.” He grumbled, nestling his face into your chest, his soft cock slipping out and resting wetly against your thigh. Grimacing slightly, you glanced up at Ghost, who had a dazed smile on his face. He looked at you, as though assessing the situation before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Get over it, Johnny. You beg me to cum in ya more often than not.” He shook his head before returning his attention to you, cupping your cheek softly. “Did so well for me, for us. You up for doing this again?”

Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes wide and hopeful as Ghost grinned, pushing back from the bed and standing up.

“I’ll get cloths from the bathroom. You take care of our girl, right Johnny?” Soap simply hummed, burying his face further between your tits as Ghost scowled, but smiled and walked away.

“I’ll eat ye out in the mornin’ hen. Good wake-up call fer ye.” He rumbled against your chest.

Grinning to yourself, you threaded your hand through Soap’s hair, holding him close as you felt yourself settle, being lulled to sleep by the warm body that was sprawled on yours. Price’s reports could wait.

2K notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 5 months

Note

thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”

oh my god??????

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.

the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.

“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.

“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.

“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.

you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.

“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.

“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.

you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”

you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.

“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.

“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

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donutz · 2 months

Text

Sebastian Solace accidently meeting reader

Sebastian was looking for items resulted in seeing you

— Sebastian actually doesn't do that, he just comes across them and uses it for sales

Warnings: Non human reader; Reader is 11'4, taller than Sebastian!!; Reader has a small tail, that's hidden under there clothes; Reader isn't naked, you have clothes on yay!!; You have 4 extra eyes from being mixed with a spider; Bad words, again

Here's a body reference I drew, with a mouse!! ^_^ It's not that good but i tried my best ,^^ the tiny text says spider

“Ugh, these doors are so small”.. You thought.

You had to crouch through them, every. Single. Time. Why not bust out of a window? You looked at the wide glass to your left, thinking. Yeah why not.

Jumping through it, you realized that those were really weak windows. They might as well have been just the wall if they were really that weak! You would think that they were tempered at least.

You swim and swim, occasionally stopping to peer into the rooms. Sometimes you’d even knock on the windows to look at the squiddles. The other monsters never appeared, but those ones did.

After passing through many walls and windows, you look into another room. Seeing a tall humanoid like creature just sliding through.

Wait what.

You do a double take, not expecting another one to look like you.

Slightly swaying your legs, you move towards the glass. Putting your hands on it. You can only see the backside of him, looking him up and down. Just out of interest and curiosity.

He stops searching through the drawers and turns to his side, not seeing you. He moves to the next room, and you move right with him. It seems like he’s looking for items.

He looks at the window anddd.. Flinches back, with his palm facing you right in front of his chest. You hear his mumbled yell through the glass.

You wave.

As if you didn’t just startle him.

Smiling really wide, just no teeth showing, your small tail wagging.

You hear him curse. Uhm.. You move to the side and break the window with your fist,

“Oops” You say after putting your head through the hole.

Turning your head, you were going to say hello, but he was gone! You break through the window using your whole body, and fix it up with your… Powers!

“Come back”! You shout, crawling through the doors, each time you did, you saw him.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME”!!

That wasn’t a very good first meeting, but it happened again. You saw him again. And again. And again. You know the drill by now yeah?

By the fourth time, he wasn’t phased.

Sigh, “Are you trying to get on my nerves or something”?

“How? I just want to see you”!

His face scrunches in confusion, “What”.

“I said I just wanted to see you! You’re only making yourself more mad with that temper of yours”.

His face fell monotone, ignoring you as he slithered through the doors.

You followed right behind him, or next to him. He didn’t want you behind him just in case you decided to do something dirty.

You observe him everytime he searches through the drawers, checks under them, and looks through the lockers.

While he was searching through a drawer, you asked a question.

“Why do you search for the items ‘n stuff”?

He closes the drawer, standing up. He turns around to face you.

“Why are you still here with me”?

“You didn’t answer my question”.

“You didn’t answer mine”.

You giggle, “You’re funny, Sebastian”.

He looks surprised that you even know his name, clenching his fists he yells out—

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME”?!

Now it’s your turn to look surprised.

“From a certain shark”.

He scowls, ‘Dang it Eyefestation’.

“Anywho now that I answered yours, you answer mine”.

“You still didn’t answer my other question”.

“Then let’s take turns”.

You two stared at each other. Each stares having different meaning.

One with danger, confusion, and a small chance of fear.

The other with interest and sincerity.

One not being able to tell if it’s a mask.

The other being able to tell that One is scared.

“... Fine. It’s for my shop that I hold for the other players. Now what about you? Why are you still here with me”?

“Well it’s because I find you quite interesting really. I haven’t seen any other creature—”

‘Creature’?

“— Like you. You seem kinda on edge and I want to get to know you. Personally, I think you have a very kind heart”.

‘Kind heart? What the hell are you even saying’..

Your smile stays on your face, not once lingering. Your left hand gently grips your right wrist while both arms are behind your back. You sway side to side.

“Is your question answered Sebastian”?

“Don’t call me that”.

“Then what should I call you”?

“... Solace. Call me Solace”.

“Oh that’s a nice name. It kind of matches with your icy nature”.

Ughh. He verbally groaned. He slithered over to the next door, going through it, with you of course, following behind him.

Going through a few more doors, you ask—

“Can I see your shop”?

“Yeah fine, whatever. There’s no point since you probably don’t have any data anyways”.

“You use data as a currency? For what”?

“You ask—... Nevermind, yeah, I do. It’s so I could blackmail Urbanshade”.

He halfway turns his head to look at you, stopping.

“You’re not going to use that against me, a- are you”?

‘Shit’.

Your smile falters, realizing that he’s serious. And afraid.

“Of course not! I don’t even know what that is anyways”. You smile.

His mouth slightly opens, surprised.

“You- You’re not one of their experiments”?

“No! I was born like this! My parents were the experiments, but then I escaped”.

Sebastian didn’t say anything. How could you say that so— so happily?! A- And right in front of him too! You two just met h- how could—... How could you trust him so EASILY?!

After a bit of silence, you moved on.

“Anywayss!! I wanna see your shop! Show me”!

You walk ahead, leaving Sebastian standing there by himself baffled. Before he shakes his head and continues to move.

Eventually you two find his shop and you chill.

You see his documents on the table and question him, asking who’s documents are those. He tells you that they’re his.

“Can I buy em”?

“You got 1000 data”?

“I got my backstory”!

“... Sorry, data’s the only currency”.

“Oh man :(”

I read all of this and this seems like a quick read :(

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fairy-angel222 · 4 months

Text

For @s0dium ‘s 10k+ event!! Congrats lovely 💗💗

Kenma can be so mean when you’re needy. Crawling onto his lap while he’s playing his game and whining desperately into his chest. “Ken.. need you.” You mewl, rutting your hips onto his thigh with a whimper.

He only stares down at you for a split second. Shaking his head to fight the smirk threatening to fall onto his face. “I just fucked you.”

“Want more.” You huff, arms reaching up to wrap around his shoulders with your face in his neck. Letting out a soft moan when he teasingly shifted his thigh under your clit.

“You’re fucking greedy ya know that? Always want some cock.” Pulling off his headset before kicking his chair away from his desk. His long fingers curling into your hair to pull your head back, muffling your surprised yelp with his lips on yours.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands falling to his front to fist at his shirt as his tongue latched roughly onto yours. Your eyes having already fluttered shut as your hips involuntarily rolled in small circles on his lap. You panted heavily when he pulled away, a lewd string of spit connecting your swollen lips as his head tilted towards the bed. “Go.”

You eagerly did what you were told. Your boyfriend scoffing at the wet spot on his sweats from your lack of underwear. “All i did was kiss you and your pussy’s already dripping.” Stalking up to the edge of the bed with a short nod. “Turn around.”

And you did, back arching as you put your ass on display for him. Short skirt flipping onto your back when you let your chest lay flat against his sheets.

“So fucking eager,” He groaned, palming your ass with his large hands as his cock hardened. Using his fingers to knead into the supple flesh before spreading your cheeks with a breathy chuckle. Your folds sticking to each other with how wet you were. “Fuck.”

Kenma swallowed hard, the sight of your sopping cunt making his cock throb. Especially when you were whimpering so adorably for him on top of it.

You whined loudly, attempting to push back onto him with the small wiggle of your ass. Squealing into the air when his hand landed down roughly instead. “Have some fucking patience yeah?”

You shivered when his fingers ran down your slit, the loss of his touch being short lived when you felt them being replaced by his cock. You moaned, feeling him bury himself deep inside you with a groan of his own. The stretch of your pussy to take his girth only adding to your pleasure when he began fucking into you slowly.

“Ahh.. f-faster.” You gasped, feeling his tip kissing your g spot perfectly as his pace grew harsher.

“You come sit on me all whiny, rub yourself all over my thigh, take me out from my game.” He grunted, “You’ll take whatever I choose to give you.”

You could only cry out in response when he quickened his pace regardless. Hips snapping roughly into your rear as he slammed himself in and out. Your eyes welling with tears as you babbled dumbly, body rocking back and forth with each mean thrust.

“F-fuck, you’re so— ahhh.” You couldn’t think, and it took no time for you to crumble under his merciless pace. He was fucking you so good, so deep. You were so fucking full and he was giving you no time to adjust to each thrust.

You loved it.

Kenma grinned, “Aren’t you the one who wanted me to speed up baby?” His hand reaching to snake around the back of your neck. Pushing you even further into the mattress with a grunt. “So fucking take it.”

“O-oh god, ‘s so g-good. So fucking good.” You cried, your fists gripping tightly onto the sheets near your head as you drooled. Lips parted in high pitched mewls when your stomach tightened, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

“Pussy’s sucking me in like she doesn’t wanna let go. She’s as greedy for cock as you are,” he breathed, head falling back with a shuddered moan when you clenched down at his words. “Shit- gonna milk me dry if i keep giving in.”

His words were incomprehensible. Your mind foggy as it focused on the rhythmic torture to your sweet spot.

“K-kennn, ‘m gonna cum. Please can i cum?” You were so close, body trembling with the curl of your toes as the building orgasm.

“Hold it.”

You almost sobbed, shaking your head as you pulled your body forward. “C-can’t. Needa cumm.”

His hands flew to the small of your waist, pulling you back roughly on his cock to continue his torture. “I said hold it.”

You wailed, tears flowing freely as you tried to keep it in. Chanting out an apology as your eyes rolled back, legs shaking uncontrollably as you made a mess on his cock. “‘M sorryyy.”

He watched as your slick dripped onto his bed. Your noises only increasing in volume at the overstimulation when he began using your hips to fuel his thrusts.

“Only know how to follow instructions till you get what you want.” His palm landing down on your ass with a small scoff. “I change my mind baby, you can cum. And you’re gonna cum until i say you can stop.”

He tried to act unaffected by his first release. The way his body trembled as his abs tensed. Letting out a string of inaudible moans as his jaw slackened. Eyes closing shut as he shakily pumped you full of cum.

Pulling out to watch the substance drip out of you in thick spurts. A groan sounding in his throat when he spread your folds for a better view. Watching you cry out when he pinched your clit meanly. “Pussy looks so much better filled with my cum.”

You felt your body going limp. Letting out a contented sigh as you lay there leaking cum.

“Uh uh, turn around. We’re not finished.”

Fuck.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#hq kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma #haikyuu kenma #kenma smut #kenma x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #kenma x you #jjk smut

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shotmrmiller · 7 months

Text

Valentine's day with Pathetic!Simon

You should've known Johnny had been serious when he talked to you that morning.

"LT's never had anyone to gift fer Valentine's. Just...let him give ye the flowers 'n accept the chocolates, aye?"

Simon stood in front of you, pinning you in place with his beady gaze, a bouquet of red roses in his clenched fist.

The ends of them look torn. You really hope he didn't just rip these off of someone's front yard.

He interrupts your inner musings by forcefully presenting them to you— velvet petals brushing your lips, causing you to jerk your head back slightly.

Allllrighty then.

Tenderly, you raise your hands and grab them— encircling the base of the rose just above his hold.

"Thank you for these, Simon. They're very beautiful," you croon. His delivery might be awkward, but you truly are grateful for them. Every individual rose is pristine, colours vibrant, stems strong and firm— not a brown petal nor wilted leaf in sight.

They're perfect.

Until your fingers are pricked by something pointed.

What?

You let go quickly and turn your hands up to inspect them. Sure enough, there's blood beading up on some of your fingertips, and the soft flesh of your palms.

And you grab Simon's wrist to lift the bouquet to eye level.

Thorns.

They're everywhere, and Simon's knuckles are white from how tight he's holding the roses.

"Jesus! Simon! You've got to be kidding me! Put them down!" As you let him go, you quickly spin around to fetch your first aid kit, but a forceful grip on your shoulder stops you in your tracks and spins you right back around.

"Just get a vase for them," he rumbles.

In disbelief, you protest, "What? No! You need—" but he swiftly interrupts you, his grip on your shoulder tightening marginally.

"What I need is f'you to get a vase." His firm response is resolute.

"O-okay, I...I er, got a few under the sink." With a silent stride, Simon stays close behind you, his hand that had touched your shoulder now curling around the back of your neck— only letting go when you reach for the sink base.

Placing it on the countertop, you ask him if he would now put them down.

"No. Fill it with water."

Simon nods when you do as he says, then drops them inside the vase— and you can't look away as red furls inside the once-clear water, turning it pink.

He clears his throat, catching your attention, and when you turn to face him, Simon's handing you something else.

It's a flattened snickers bar. You can see caramel peeking out from one corner, and the wrapper is streaked with some of his blood.

Delicately, you grab it with your thumb and index by the sticky edges and place it on a paper towel.

"How did you know that snickers are my favorite?" Simon doesn't answer, only looks at you unnervingly expectantly.

Right. Let him give me the flowers and chocolate.

"Thank you so much for all of this, Simon. Happy Valentine's Day."

He lets out a deep sigh (of relief?) and opens long arms. You walk up to him, wrap your arms around his waist— the side of your head flat on his broad chest— and let out an undignified squawk when you feel your spine pop as he returns the hug.

You blatantly ignore the bulge firmly pressing itself into the soft flesh of your lower stomach, and definitely don't think about how large it feels.

"Happy Valentine's Day, pet."

Later, Johnny laughs so hard that he cries when he sees the rust-colored streaks of blood on the Snickers wrapper.

"Simon's an intense man, what can ah say?"

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #pathetic!simon

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paarksunghoon · 12 days

Note

Loved your sunghoon hard thought that I badly need a part 2 😭

thank you so much 🥹 I hope you like this one, anon!! I’m into the idea of writing a few short scenes for this specific hoon so if anyone is interested in reading snippets of their sex life, lemme know

part 2 of this hard thought

***

Sunghoon is typically the shy guy who keeps to himself when he’s not with his friends. He has a straight path to success upon graduating and doesn’t want to compromise that. He’s the kind of guy to yearn from afar but fuck his fist when his roommates aren’t home while he wonders when the love of his life will make their presence known.

Typically, Sunghoon is not the kind of guy to engage in a friends with benefits situation. Yet he finds himself in your apartment a mere three hours after leaving you the first time. Why he hooked up with you at that party is unbeknownst to him, but he doesn’t care.

“Pussy’s so good I needed more,” he says against your mound with your back perched on the couch. Sunghoon has your legs spread wide with his palms and your toes curl with every pass of his wet tongue dragging across your folds.

“God,” you moan straight from the back of your throat. You grab the back of his head with your hands and feel his soft hair. Sunghoon groans right into you and his voice makes your pussy quiver even more.

He takes his time, unlike the night you first met him at the house party a few weeks ago. Sunghoon looks so beautiful with his eyes closed, lashes kissing his skin as he works your folds like he’s licking an ice cream cone. He switches between licking your insides to kissing your inner thighs to prolong your orgasm. You don’t know if you’ve ever had a guy who cared about your pleasure that much to give it to you just to take it away, only to make you see stars.

Sunghoon pries your pussy open with his fingers and holds his body over your lap. He gathers spit until it drops straight onto your clit. He basks in the way you clench around nothing, watching the way more of your arousal oozes out of your body. Sunghoon is so turned on that his cock is hot and stiff in his basketball shorts to the point of being uncomfortable.

With one hand, he lets go of your pussy to reach down and put his hand over his cock to palm himself while his tongue works its magic against you. Sunghoon squeezes himself and shudders. You’ve maneuvered so your feet are planted on his back and he feels the urge to continue pushing you to your climax when he feels your toes curling up against him and as you start to move his face against your mound.

He’s been at it for ages. Your undergarments are long gone and he reckons he’s been on his knees for the past twenty minutes or so but he pays no attention to his legs burning or his back aching. He would stay like this forever if that meant making you come.

Sunghoon drags the surface of his tongue over you expertly while pulling you close to his face by your ass. You yelp at the sudden movement and grip onto the bedsheets for support. Meanwhile, he’s thrusting his cock against the couch until he’s humping it like he’s the one who’s supposed to get off.

“Perfect ass and perfect pussy,” Sunghoon moans against you. “Cum on my face, pretty girl. I know you want to.”

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you whine, cupping your breast and giving them a squeeze. “So hot when you talk like that.”

“Yeah? Want me to talk you through it?”

“Please, fuck.”

“Okay, baby. Focus on my tongue. Don’t you want to cum on it?”

“I want it so fucking bad.”

“Mhm, atta girl.” Sunghoon lifts himself just enough for you to hear him. “Let me taste you. Cum right now.”

You do as he says. The feeling of euphoria washes over you and your release coats Sunghoon’s tongue. He slurps it up like your taste is engrained in his mind while humping the couch until he releases an orgasm in his boxers and shorts. But he doesn’t care that he’s soiled himself like this. Sunghoon pushes his softening cock against his own cum and moans as he tastes yours.

“Love your pussy,” Sunghoon mumbles as he cleans up your body with his tongue. “Could eat you out all day.”

“Yeah? You would?”

He looks up at you from your mound and licks another fat stripe up your slit.

“Don’t underestimate me.”

***

comments and reblogs would be appreciated! x

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #hard thought*#my writing*#sunghoon

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annwrites · 27 days

Text

a call to arms. part three.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: jace takes you on your first flying lesson.

— word count: 5,645

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea @daisyhxsh

He'd already woken up in a sour mood at the prospect of having to waste his day at your side, yet again, while he teaches you how to ride something you've no business having in the first place.

He'd swallowed it down, however, with specific plans in mind for this afternoon.

He would show you first how it's done, soaring through the skies with ease atop Vermax. His dragon would breathe great plumes of fire, which he'd then swoop directly through without an ounce of fear.

Once he landed, you would look at him with awe and reverence, begging him to take you up next.

He'd intended for today to be less of a headache. The two of you would not spend it arguing.

It would, instead, be similar in nature to how you'd ended the night last: calmly, Jacaerys kindly teaching you Valyrian terms he assumes you may have interest in knowing, and with a gentle touch. Or mayhaps a few...

Instead, when he'd sent for you, you'd not been in your chambers.

You'd, apparently, gone out to walk along the beach with your guard, as if this is all some sort of holiday away from home.

His ire had been promptly stoked, and had turned to seething rage as he watched from the castle's walkway as the two of you conversed and touched one another.

You, placing a hand upon the man's chest, and he upon your arm, your lower back, your waist. You merely smiled like an empty-headed idiot all the while.

As if you are unfamiliar with the ways of wanton men.

He should have the knight's hands cut off for such an offense. For touching that which he is not meant to have.

Not that you are spoken for—Jace has had few words with his own betrothed the last few days, always claiming to be otherwise occupied—but your priorities lie elsewhere now. Not in taking long walks on beaches with...rough-handed men.

He shall begin the day by teaching both of you a lesson then.

Jacaerys clenches his jaw, tightening his grip around the pommel of his sword as he comes ever-closer, gritting his teeth at the sound of you laughing contentedly at what he's sure is an ignorant joke the knight has just told you to earn your approval.

And then he does it again: touches your back, sliding his palm along it, keeping you somewhat close to his side.

Too close.

Jacaerys plants his booted feet firmly in damp sand, settles his arms behind his back, and clears his throat.

You jump in surprise.

"Ser Myles," he says, glancing to the knight's arm, before meeting his eyes once more. "Is that any way to treat the young woman you've been tasked with the protection of?"

His hand suddenly falls away, and your brows furrow.

"Forgive me, My Prince, I meant no harm by the gesture."

Jacaerys takes a step forward. "No, I think you meant something entirely different."

Your eyes flit between the two men, while your heart begins to pound in your chest at the boy's insinuation.

Myles remains silent, so Jacaerys shrugs dramatically. "What? Nothing to say for yourself, then? You are given the duty of keeping her safe, and she's here not even a week, and already you are being untoward. How should I see such an action? Hm?"

You step in front of Myles, putting yourself between the two of them. "He was merely keeping me company while I collected shells. He's done nothing wrong."

Jacaerys stares you down. "You will address me properly, and you will hold your tongue. You speak only when spoken to, is that understood?"

You ball your hands into fists before crossing your arms.

Jacaerys settles his gaze upon Myles then, loathing him all the more for his handsome smattering of dark facial hair, his tanned face, his broad form.

As if he'd not already felt insecure enough, day-by-day he wishes more and more to crawl out of his own skin. This one is no different, and he'd so prayed it would be.

Myles speaks. "I assure you, My Prince, no disrespect was intended toward Y/N. We were only—"

Jace raises his brows incredulously.

"You seem on quite comfortable terms with my—" He pauses, but only for the briefest of moments. "One of my mother's dragonseeds."

"How else is he meant to address me?" You ask, interrupting once again.

Jacaerys steps closer to you, forcing you to lean your head back to meet his eyes. "You will be silent."

He looks to Ser Myles, jerking his head toward Dragonstone. "You are dismissed."

The man bows his head, glancing to you for but a moment while you give him a sympathetic look in return, before he steps away.

Your eyes are full of fire when they meet Jacaerys' once more. "That was entirely uncalled for."

He grabs you roughly by the arm, glaring at you.

"My Prince," he hisses.

You yank your arm from his grip, sneering at him—and, as you've finally had it with his insufferable ways; his condescending, haughty attitude, you tell him what you really think.

"Royal arsehole!" You shout, stomping away.

His jaw drops, his mind going blank at your display of sheer disrespect.

"W—What did you just call me?!" He yells shrilly.

He races to catch up to you, repeating himself.

"What did you just call me?!" He shouts, his voice echoing across the water.

You pay him no mind as you throw a lock of hair over your shoulder, holding your head high as you continue swiftly walking away in the other direction.

His patience now at its end, he grabs you by the wrist, and begins pulling you back toward the castle. "You insolent little harlot! You'll pay for that! I could have your tongue for such—"

You try to yank yourself away again, but he holds firm, turning back to you with flared nostrils and a set jaw.

"You want to know what I think?!"

"No! I don't think I particularly do! But what I know—" he says, stalking toward you while you shuffle your feet to get away, desperate for him to release you. "Is that this behavior ceases—today!"

He shoves you into a narrow alcove, putting the two of you out-of-sight.

He pushes you into the side of the cavern, and you dare to push him back—shoving against his chest, once, twice—before finally raising a hand to him, which he quickly catches in his strong grip.

He pins you against a damp stone wall, his face mere inches from your own as his warm breath fans over you—combating the cold of the sea while he holds your hands above your head.

"If you ever raise a hand to me again," he says lowly—quietly—his body now flush against your own. "I will take it. What you just did is treason."

He positions his lips next to your ear. "Go on, then. Try me. See how far I let you get after such a stunt. You think me weak? Easy to strong-arm?"

He squeezes your wrists painfully.

"I doubt it. You've no idea who you're testing. I am your future king," he spits. "And you will obey me, you little bitch."

He pulls back, his brown eyes boring into your own. "You think your comely looks make you special? Think they're all you need, so as to easily fool and take advantage of men? To get your way?"

He leans in closer. "I am not so easily corrupted."

Your lip twitches and he curls his own in response.

"What do you think are laughing at?" He barks.

You glance down, to where his erection is firmly pressed against your stomach, then back into his eyes. "I was going to tell you that I think you jealous."

You glower at him. "And merely a green boy who has no idea what in Seven Hells he's doing."

He looks down then as well, and his face goes starch-white.

He stutters, desperately grasping for words, for explanation, for any feeling that isn't utter mortification, before he looks at you again.

You raise a brow, a bored expression now having overtaken your features as you wait for him to decide what he wants to do with you.

You're sure you already know.

Finally, he growls. slamming your arms against stone one last time before releasing you, adjusting himself, then stalking away, leaving you alone...and trembling.

It's some time before you return to the castle.

You'd wished to cool down first, so you'd waded through the sea for awhile—only up to your ankles in the cool saltwater—as you gathered further shells for your sister. But no pearls, quite expectantly.

You're unsure that you regret what occurred with the prince this morn.

Regret for his sake? Never. For your own? Were you not a dragonrider...you would already be dead by now.

You need be far more careful in the future. Your pride is not worth more than your life. Not when you have others depending upon you to make it home to them. To look after them once you have.

Wish that you could remain out here all evening, but, before long, you catch a chill and begin heading inside so as to get warm again in front of the fire.

What had the royal pain in your arse even wanted in the first place, anyway? Had he really come all the way outside and across the beach just to chastise another man for touching you?

You throw yourself back on your bed, not much caring.

He is a child playing at being a man. Nothing more.

Even if those same...manly parts had stirred something inside of you.

As if he is your usual type.

No. He is insufferable.

Jacaerys rubs feverishly at his throbbing erection, his eyes closed—free hand firmly gripping the wall as he works desperately toward his release.

He imagines you bent over his lap as he wails against your backside until it is lovely shades of blood-red and purple, while you beg either for more, or for his mercy.

My Prince, Gods, My Prince...

His lip twitches, turning into a pleased grin as you beg for him.

I will obey, I swear it by the Seven, you whine.

None else shall touch me, you whisper.

Only you, you moan, making him a solemn vow.

He struggles to picture what the rest of you might look like. Your breasts are not much of a quandary for him—he has seen wet-nurses tending to his younger brothers—but rather between your legs.

He is still yet...unaware.

And you had read him like a book on that, hadn't you? More than once. It is humiliating: for you, a girl, to know more than he. About anything.

He imagines you pinned to that wall again, your dress—one of soft grey and pearlescent white he'd chosen for you—in tatters at your feet as you stroke and please him...with your mouth.

That is certainly one way to earn your silence, he muses.

And he much enjoys it.

"Gods, Y/N," he whispers heatedly, wanting you in here with him instead.

He—fuck—he needs you. Needs you on your back, on your knees, on your belly, in every which way. Wants...wants you to teach him. To pleasure him. To allow him to pleasure you. To—to...

"Oh, Gods, yeeees," he drawls, his hot, thick cum spurting out of the tip of his weeping, purple cock as he fills with relief.

His strokes eventually slow, before ceasing altogether, a long tendril of cum hanging from his erection, which he rubs his thumb over.

His body feels hot all over, his cheeks are flushed, and his heart is hammering away in his chest, but Gods, could he use yet another round.

Apparently three had not been nearly enough...

But he knows the day is still young, and you still need him to teach you how to ride Silverwing.

That is what he needs, he thinks, as he cleans himself up. To ride the skies. It will get him out of his head. Will cool him down. Will distract him.

He knows what he truly wants, however...

Something which he will never admit.

Even if the evidence lies plainly before him on an old rag...

There is a knock at your door, interrupting you from your current task of washing off your sister's shells.

You pad toward the door, then blank when you open it, to find Prince Jacaerys standing on the other side.

He tosses you a bundle of clothes, which you barely manage to catch within your arms.

"Put these on," he commands, shoving past you, shutting the door firmly behind himself.

You turn, watching as he pours himself a glass of water, which he drinks down greedily before pouring another, seating himself at your dining table.

"W—what?"

He looks at you with a bored expression. "Are you deaf?"

You look at the clothes—which are all leather and thick velvet, with light fur—then back to him. "What're these for?"

He shrugs a shoulder lightly. "You'll see."

He nods toward your changing screen. "Now, put them on. I won't ask again. We don't have all day."

You briefly consider telling him that, without his little outburst, perhaps whatever new lessons you're about to be given could've been started sooner, but refrain.

You'll need bite your tongue more often from now own, lest you lose it altogether. And then how will you command Silverwing in battle?

In truth, you'd rather not think on the issue too long.

Every day that passes where you are not forced back into the dragonpit to finally learn how to ride her is a great relief. Even if it leaves you on the edge of your seat, waiting with dread for when you're finally summoned to do so.

You shift on your feet, clutching the clothing to your chest. "I need privacy."

He rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his water. "There is a screen, and I hardly intend to look. Now, do as your prince commands."

Royal prick, you think, walking behind the sheer screen, setting your new garments down.

You know looking is precisely what he means to do. Elsewise, he would not still be in here.

Boys.

Jacaerys, to his credit, tries to look out the window instead, but staring at a pane of glass is not why he'd come. It's like he can't fucking help himself. And he feels shameful for it. Nevertheless, he does it anyway.

He watches.

Watches as a candle casts your form in a soft shadow against the screen.

Watches as you remove your gown, and then your smallclothes, leaving you bare—Jace only having his imagination to picture what is on the other side.

There is the soft swell of your breasts, a tuft of hair above your pelvis, your round backside that he'd pictured in his mind's eye but a few minutes earlier as he spanked it raw. Your supple thighs, the feminine curve of your waist.

He glances nervously to the doorway.

If he were to be caught with you like this... He does not want to imagine the fallout that would ensue between not just he and Baela, but between his mother and her father.

And he knows he's enough of a coward that he would place the blame entirely at your feet.

He wants to convince himself he would do otherwise, but doubt clouds such convictions.

He looks back, watching as you pull on your new riding pants, and he adjusts himself over his own, his cock filling with blood...again.

He shakes his head, standing, stepping across the room to stare outside.

He needs to throw himself into the sea for awhile. A long while.

Finally, you clear your throat, interrupting the silence.

Jacaerys turns back to you, pleased that it all seems to fit. It'd been a measure his mother had ordered from their servants: to have you fit for new garments once you'd claimed Silverwing.

He comes toward you. "How does it feel? Are the boots too snug?"

You walk in a few small circles and his lip twitches at the sight, before you come to a stop, looking at him.

You shake your head. "I think they're fine."

He gently tugs against the hem of your tunic before circling you, looking you over—every inch.

When he's standing before you once more, he gives you a small nod. "Follow me."

Your eyes widen in terror as Jacaerys leads you toward the dragonpit.

"W—where're we—what're we—going—doing?"

Jacaerys keeps on, growing nearer and nearer to that familiar set of large double-doors. "Today, you will learn how to fly your new mount. You needn't worry, I will be on Vermax and—"

You stop in your tracks, fighting back tears. "I—I don't want to."

He barely looks at you as he grabs you by the forearm, dragging you forward, closer to those doors.

Doors you thought you'd never walk out of. Doors that had trapped you and dozens of others inside a dark room while two blood-thirsty beasts feasted upon them.

You can still hear the screams.

Can smell the fire—the thick, black plumes of smoke which had threatened to choke the life from you.

You see their flesh falling from their bones.

Can hear one man crying for his mother.

Another girl crying for her baby.

When those same doors close behind you, you panic.

You wrench your arm away from him and run in the opposite direction. You're not thinking. Or you are, but only of survival.

He yells after you, but you hardly hear it. All you do is the screams. The roars of the dragons. Death rattles.

You hide yourself away in a dark corner, clamping your hands over your ears, rocking back and forth, willing it to be over.

It will all be over soon...

You squeeze your eyes shut, making yourself as small as possible.

You want your father.

Your mother.

Your little girl. You want to hold her one last time. Please, Gods, please.

"Look at me!"

It is only once he has pulled your hands away from your ears that you realize you're screaming.

Jacaerys takes your tear-stricken face between his palms, his eyes searching your own. "You're safe! She won't hurt you, you have my word!"

"Please!" You beg him as you choke on your tears. "P—Please, My Prince, I beg of you! Gods, I'm so sorry! Y—You're right: I'll be obedient! A good little girl—your whore—whatever you wish! I'll obey you, I swear it! Please, please, I have to leave!"

His heart breaks at the sight of your crumpled face—your violently shaking body—the words you offer him. You'd do anything he says in this moment, you're that frightened of what his mother had subjected you to.

And to think that he'd sniggered at the idea of feeding you to Vermax...

How could he have?

"My little girl! I want my little girl!" You cry, trying to push past him, your eyes set on those large doors, until he pulls you against his chest—the two of you collapsing in a tangle of limbs as he holds onto you with all his might.

He shooshes you, smooths your hair with his hand, rocks you gently.

"You're safe, you're safe," he repeats so many times that he quickly loses count of just how many.

"She is your dragon now," he tells you with wide eyes, "She will obey you. She means you no harm. She chose you. Wants you to be her rider, the sole body who commands her. You can trust her, I swear this to you."

You shake your head, not wishing to listen.

"I am here!" He shouts. "I won't allow any harm to befall you, you have my word, Y/N! As long as you are with me, you are safe!"

You break into a fit of sobs, clutching at his chest.

"So sorry, so sorry, so—"

He cradles the back of your head, tears stinging his own eyes.

His mother had stood there and watched. Had watched like it was some marvelous spectacle, instead of dozens of people fighting for their lives after coming to offer her their aid.

And he had been grateful for their deaths. All those people. They'd...they'd had families, too. They'd been unaware of what they were walking into.

He is a monster, he realizes, feeling ill.

After some time, you begin to quiet, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups, your body drained.

"I don't..." You trail off, unsure what you even want to say.

He tightens his arms around you.

"You...you did not say... That you have children."

He is not pleased by it, but also not entirely surprised. So, you've a bastard child with a man who chose to leave you both behind. He is not sure if that says more about you, or he.

Your brows furrow.

"What?" You ask quietly.

"You kept begging...for your little girl."

You slump against him.

"My little sister," you explain.

"My father died when I was young. And after...my mother became a ghost of herself. It became my responsibly to look after us all. No matter that I was still a child myself. There was this night..."

You grow quiet for a moment before continuing.

"I was reading to my sister in bed. She...she called me 'mama'. I didn't...know what to do with that. So, I let it go. Until she did it again. My mother didn't even care. I tried, gently, to explain to her not to refer to me by that term, but she didn't seem to grasp the things I was telling her. Why she shouldn't."

Jace rests his cheek against the crown of your head.

"Somewhere along the way, I began to think of her as my daughter. Maybe she is now. I don't know. I just... I miss her more than I can bear. I feel like a piece of my chest is missing now. I want to be back with her."

Jace swallows down the lump in his throat. "My younger brother, Luke... Aemond killed him. I did not...act as a father to him, necessarily, but I looked after him. Tried to teach him. I miss him every day."

You gingerly take one of his hands in your own.

"I heard about that... Storm's End?"

He nods.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

He presses a kiss to your hair. "Me as well."

A beat of silence.

"I know you do not wish to, but you have to learn."

You stir in his arms, so he holds you close yet still.

"I will ride with you. On Silverwing. I promise you—I swear to you—that she will bring you no harm. Dragons bond with their riders. You'll feel it before long. It's...difficult to explain. But if the day came when she needed give her life for yours," he says, pulling away, cupping your cheek. "She will. That is what you mean to her now."

Your chin wobbles. "I don't want her."

"She wants you. Has chosen you."

"How...how do we let someone else claim her instead?"

He shakes his head. "That isn't how it works. A dragon may only take a new rider once its previous one has passed. That is the only way the bond is broken."

Your heart sinks. "Oh."

A tear slips from your eye, sliding down your cheek. "I don't want to die."

He frowns.

"I know. None do. But..." What is he supposed to tell you? A dragon was never what you'd come here for. He has no words of comfort for you, and it makes him feel all the worse for it.

"I wonder if Maisily would like her."

You smile slightly.

"I'd like to think she'd be braver than I."

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "After what you endured...you're not a coward. I'm...sorry. That you must live with it now. Truly."

Your eyes meet his again. "Do we truly have to?"

He nods slowly. "I'm afraid so. But, as I said, I will be with you the entire time."

You clutch at the material of his soft tunic. "Were you scared...the first time?"

He tips your chin up with his index finger, grinning. "Terrified."

That makes you feel somewhat better.

Finally, he stands, taking your hand within his own, lacing your fingers together. "Come, I think it is time for a proper introduction."

You practically cling to Jace's side as the two of you stand at the edge of the platform which overlooks the dragonpit.

Your body shakes violently, while tears well in your eyes. You fear you may vomit all over him.

"Call her," he tells you gently.

You stare up at him, your nose red and eyes bloodshot, and shake your head.

He slides his hand down your arm, lacing his fingers between your own for comfort. He squeezes your hand securely.

"Call to her. I'm right here. No harm will come to you, I promise."

Reluctantly, you tear your gaze away from him, looking out at that black, bottomless pit, afraid of what is to be found in the looming darkness.

You hide yourself half-behind his arm.

"Silverwing," you call quietly.

He frowns. "Tell her 'Māzīs, Silverwing'."

You grip his sleeve tightly.

"It means come," he explains.

"M—" You shut your mouth, humming with fear.

"Try again," he encourages.

In truth, he doesn't entirely mind you taking so long to accomplish this one simple task. The more time it takes you, the longer you'll cling to him for safety.

He much likes that you do in the first place.

That you see him as a protector in this way.

"Māzīs, Silverwing," you call, a few octaves louder, to no response.

"With conviction," he explains.

You squeeze his hand so tightly it hurts, but he says nothing of it.

"Māzīs, Silverwing!" You shout.

And then there is a deep rumbling, and something shifting in the dark.

You squeak, stepping behind Jace entirely, fisting the material of his tunic in your hands as you hold yourself against him.

You shut your eyes, burying your face in the middle of his back.

His lip twitches, eventually turning into a full-blown contented smirk at the feel of you so very close to him.

"Tell her to sit."

"You do it," you mumble.

He rolls his eyes. "She is your mount, not mine. She needs answer to you alone. Elsewise, she will grow confused. It would not do well to have her responding to other riders while in battle."

"Then we won't go to battle. We'll stay here. Where it's safe."

He nearly snorts.

"Demās," he whispers. "Sit."

You peak out from behind him, then blanch when you see your dragon already staring at you.

Her blue and silver scales shimmer against the light of the lit braziers which surround you. At least she's pretty to look at... If not also terrifying.

"She's waiting for you," he presses.

"Demās, Silverwing."

There is a resounding thump, and then a soft clicking coming from her.

"Good, now you may mount her."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

He turns, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "I will show you how it's done."

You watch nervously as Jacaerys climbs onto your dragon with ease, seating himself comfortably before looking down to you, beckoning you up with his hand.

You shift on your feet, glancing to the doorway, then back to him.

"I will be with you the entire time. Just come. Please."

You take a small step forward, and then another and another, shoving down the urge to run screaming in the other direction all the while as you plant your feet against her side, your hands gripping her slippery scales while you stare up at him.

Jacaerys gives you an encouraging smile. "Good, just like that. Now climb."

You frown, but obey nonetheless, knowing you've no other choice.

You struggle—losing your footing every few steps, but you hold firm, eventually taking Jacaery's outstretched hand, and he pulls you up, and you fall into his chest.

You flush. "Sorry."

He shakes his head, smoothing hair away from your face.

"No harm done. Now," he nods toward the saddle. "Sit, so I can adjust your restraints."

"What...what about you?"

He grins. "I've been at this for some time. I'll be perfectly well."

"You're not...you're not afraid of falling off?"

"Not at all."

You wait patiently—silently—as Jacaerys pulls tight a large leather strap across your waist.

"How does that feel?"

You tug against it, and are pleased to find it doesn't budge. "Good. It feels secure. I think..."

He nods, sliding closer until his chest is flush against your back. He wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand comes to rest atop your thigh.

"Tell her to stand."

You stare ahead dumbly, your mind blank. You don't want her to stand. Don't want her to fly. You want to go back to your room.

"Maybe...maybe tomorrow we could—"

"No, today."

You swallow thickly.

He pulls a lock of hair away from your shoulder, bringing his lips close to your ear. "I won't allow any harm to come to you. Neither will she. She is your protector now."

He pauses. "As am I. For...for today, that is."

Tears fills your eyes.

You want to get down.

You want your little girl.

"Can you hold my hand again?" You whisper.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, twining his fingers between yours once more.

"Now, stand."

You chew your lip. "That's the one you were mean to me over, right? You said..."

You trail off. You can't remember the word now. Only that he called you a simpleton when he told you to say it, and you'd not known what word to supply him with in return.

"Iōrātās."

You nod. "Silverwing, iōrātās!"

She begins to rise and your eyes go wide, your heart jumping into your throat.

"Oh—oh Gods. I don't—"

The two of you rock from side to side before leveling again.

"Tell her to go forward."

A beat of silence.

"Naejot, Silverwing!"

She begins heading toward a doorway, which begins to slowly open.

Jacaerys had arranged for the dragonkeepers to at least do that much.

He was irritable enough when he went to them to make arrangements for this afternoon. If they'd refused his orders...

It is once Jacaerys can see clearly outside that he speaks again. "Tell her to fly."

"I—I can't do that. We need to get down now, I think."

He cups your cheek, leaning in close to your ear. "All is well, I promise. Trust me. Just this once."

You keep your mouth shut, refusing to give her the order.

"Sōvēs," he tells you.

You remain silent.

He sighs. "Do you think she enjoys being trapped in here all hours of the day? Do you know how long it's been since someone has ridden her? Let her show you the skies. Allow her that privilege."

You fill with guilt then.

You drag your fingertips lightly along her scales.

You've a dragon... What a ridiculous thing for someone like you to possess.

It will not last.

It does not matter if Jacaerys believes otherwise. She chose wrong. And you will prove it to him.

"Silverwing, sōvēs!" You shout with confidence.

And immediately fill with regret, your dragon instead proving you wrong.

She takes off, practically running toward the open doors, flapping her wings, and you shriek in terror, doubling over and hiding your face in your hands.

Jace holds you tightly, encouraging you to look, but you refuse, instead waiting for it to all be over.

You know you are airborne when everything becomes weightless and she steadies beneath you.

"Look, Y/N. Open your eyes!"

You shake your head. "No! We—You should tell her to land. I got her to fly like you said!"

He reaches forward, prying your hands away from your eyes—finding you to be stronger than you look, but you are, nevertheless, no match for him.

You keep your eyelids closed tight, refusing to give him what he wants.

"Open! That is an order from your prince!"

He says it with a grin, and with a playful tone, so as not to frighten you further, but you still whimper in fear.

He gives you another soft kiss upon your silver hair—loose strands of which lash against his face, tickling him.

"I want us to experience this together," he tells you lowly, his hand sliding along your stomach, fingers curling inward.

"You are a dragonrider now, you should see...what sorts of pleasure it may bring you."

Just then, you feel something long and hard pressing into your lower back and your eyes pop open in surprise. You turn back to him, only to find him smirking in contentment. "I see you've finally chosen to properly join me."

You give him a look of disbelief before turning back round.

And then you gasp in amazement—at the large, endless expanse of clear blue sky that surrounds you. It, and a handful of fluffy white clouds are all which remain in all the world from up here.

"I'm—"

He wraps his arms around your upper body, pulling you back against him.

"I'm flying!"

His eyes flutter closed, a smile settling upon his lips to hear you so pleased.

"I'm flying, Jace!"

He beams at you addressing him by a shortened, more familiar version of his name; that you did not so much as hesitate to do so.

"We're flying," he replies as you soar through the skies together.

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