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the-californicationist · 3 months

Note

i did send the same thing to another writer i enjoy bc i love different takes on things, but my little dumpster brain has had one thought in the last 24 hours - imagine confiding in your captain that you'd like to have a baby bc biological clock or whatever, and being in the field really puts a damper on your sex life, so that makes it difficult. but the 141 will do anything for one of their own, so if that means they're running trains and taking turns on you DAILY until it takes (and probably even after 👀), then so be it.

lol... you lit a fuckin' fire with this ask, my friend. hot!!

"The Window" (141/Reader)

You awoke to the soft tinkling noise of his belt and zipper, rattling at the edge of your bed. Your captain, John Price, was answering his call of duty, and within moments, you knew he would slip his fat, flaccid cock between your legs and allow your warmth to make him harden within you. He preferred it this way. First, he would rub you with it, heavy and smooth, smearing your wetness all over his skin. Then, with a singular talent, he would somehow stuff his soft, lolling head into your hole, feeding himself into you gently, letting your body take him in on its own as your pussy pulsed for him, and he would rub your clit absent-mindedly, comforting himself with your swollen lips, sighing raggedly as you covered him up. Once he was hard - and fuck, he was impossibly hard - he would fuck you through your blinding pleasure, his girth giving you burst after burst of hot, searing bliss.

He wasn’t your boyfriend - none of them were - but the members of your task force, the 141, had all agreed to be the father of your child. It had started when Captain Price first saw your appointment on the team calendar. You’d meant to post it privately, but you had failed to do so. He came to you right away, his face full of worry,

“Wha’s goin’ on, Spar? Goin’ to the main base hospital… Wha’s all this about?”

So, you’d told him, a little bashfully, that you were trying to get pregnant. You’d be turning 28 this fall, and you wanted to be a mom, sooner rather than later. Every few weeks, you were shipped off to some too-cold or too-hot locale, getting shot at and flash-banged. There wasn’t really time to find a date, much less convince them that you would make a good mother. The last time you tried to use Tinder, one guy had called you ‘Rambo’ and blocked you, so it wasn’t going well.

“I’ll go with you, little bird. Sounds important.”

“You don’t need to do that, Captain. I’m sure I can take out a loan for it…” You thought out loud, remembering the pamphlet and all of its cost breakdowns for IVF treatments.

“A loan? Last time I checked, love, it was free,” he chuckled.

“Free when you have someone who’d be willing to give it to you, sir,” you challenged him with your confidence, trying not to be ashamed, even of your ‘Rambo’ nickname.

“Sparrow,” he raised his voice and nearly shouted your callsign incredulously in the small mess hall where he’d found you, “There’s no bloody way you don’t have someone willing.”

“Wha’s goin’ on, Cap?” Gaz poked his head in behind the door.

“Nothing,” you tried to stop the literal landslide of embarrassment that was happening to you.

“She wants to have a baby,” Price told him, smiling a bit as your cheeks turned pink.

“A baby?” Gaz commented with no small amount of surprise.

“Who wants a baby?” Simon yelled out from the hallway before opening the door wider and scooting around Gaz to join into the conversation.

“A bairn!?” Soap barged in, slamming the door all the way open and forcing Gaz to tumble into the kitchen.

So, the whole team knew in a matter of moments, but Price kept his word. He drove you to the hospital for your appointment and asked more questions to the doctor than you did. Unfortunately, he heard all of the strictest rules and took them to heart. No cigarettes, no caffeine, plenty of rest and… plenty of exposure to male ejaculate.

There had been a meeting, of which you were not a part, between Price and the other men in your task force, and they had come to a conclusion: they would put a baby in you. It was their singular mission. A bit of back and forth had occurred when you found out their plan.

“Is there… we dinnae want to pressure you, lass, but,” Soap looked around at Ghost, Gaz, and Price before settling back on you, “Are there any of us you wouldnae like to be the father? We willnae take offense.”

“No! I’d be happy to have any of you… I mean… But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this if you don’t want to,” you could feel the heat of your shame rising in your cheeks, and you knew you were as red as a lobster. You heard a bit of laughter at your comment and feared the worst. But then, Gaz explained,

“I’m afraid all of us very much want to, Sparrow.”

He had even palmed his growing cock for emphasis.

But, it had to be fair, you decided. There should be a schedule; no favorites. And for the first month, there was. Soap was your Monday, Ghost was Tuesday, Gaz was Thursday, and Price was Friday. But then Price had a meeting and so Soap was Friday, and Price was Saturday. That meant Ghost was Monday. You were in training on Tuesday, so Gaz was Wednesday, but Soap couldn’t do Thursday or Friday because he had to go in for his annual review. So, he joined Gaz on Wednesday, stepping in right after him as if you were a pretty little mailbox and the boys had come to drop off their packages.

When the weekly schedule fell apart, you hung a big calendar in your quarters, and they’d pencil themselves in. That was fine until you had been shipped out to Aqtabi. You’d tried to keep it up while you were in the field, remembering what day was which, but the truth was that sometimes you had no idea if it was morning or night. Was that the sun or a flare?

And sometimes it didn’t matter. Something would happen on a mission, and Price would crawl beneath your scratchy woolen sheet, searching for the comfort of your arms, not saying a word, not even asking you if it was alright, but just taking you there in the cold night of the desert, filling you up and keeping his cock sheathed in you, safe and sound.

And sometimes you needed them, too. Waiting on exfil, huddled together in the pouring rain beneath a sad tarp, you’d crawled into Gaz’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you in a cradle, using his big chest as your pillow. You’d dozed, exhausted, and he’d rubbed himself against you through your clothes, coaxing you to pull down your pants so he could empty himself into your womb, quick and filthy. You remembered how it felt when his come had soaked through your panties as you sat next to him in the helicopter, letting him hold your hand.

You felt a little guilty that you weren’t exactly hoping for a child during those first few months. You were enjoying their affections, no matter how platonic they may have felt.

It didn’t stay that way, though. Soap was the worst offender. When he fucked you, he wanted to spend most of his time eating you out, sucking on your clit with his mouth like a hungry dog, soaking himself in your scent and your flavor before finally mounting you, crawling over your body like the hound that he was, dipping his cock into you and beating your core like a drum. He’d stare into your eyes when he could manage it, and he’d slipped up one day and told you he loved you. That you were his girl, his wee bonnie lass, and that he’d raise the bairn with you, even if it was Black like Gaz, tall like Ghost, or had Price’s big nose. It’d be his and yours. He’d be the daddy you wanted him to be, he promised.

Then, you’d had to deal with Gaz. He’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant near base while he had your legs held up to your chest, helping you wait the twenty suggested minutes for his “lads” to “soak in”. Told you he was just hungry, but he had also happened to buy you a nice dress, and he’d driven you in his sporty little Beamer, bright red and clean as a whistle. He’d fucked you after dinner, sneaking in a double feature, which was expressly against the rules. Told you he couldn’t help himself, and he said he’d been thinking about you all weekend, cock in hand.

Ghost was like his namesake, haunting you all over the place. He found you in the locker room, and decided to fuck you standing up, sweaty from your sparring match. He’d washed you off in the shower, and he’d taken you in there, too, after coaxing you to make him hard again by sucking him off. Ghost would slink by you in the reference room, stalking you through the bookshelves, and dragging you to the storage closet to fuck you on all fours on the floor, maps and looseleaf pamphlets about Russian spy camps under your rosy red knees. He got vocal that night, cramped with his huge body in that tiny closet, telling you what a good girl you were for him, how you fit his fuckin’ cock so perfect, how he’d never want anyone else, how it felt so good to fill your body up with his load.

Then, there was your captain. At first, you weren’t sure he was truly a willing participant. He seemed to avoid you unless he was on the schedule. He didn’t cut in line, and if you were on the couch or in the kitchen with one of the boys, he’d leave you be, smiling at you a bit before grabbing his tea and escaping back to his office. But, then you realized the truth: John Price wanted to put a baby inside of you more than anyone else, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure it happened.

“Hey, little bird,” John’s finger pet the side of your cheek as you woke, feeling him pull down your pink silk panties so he could start to warm you up, “I’m your Sunday.”

“Mm,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eye and opened up your legs for him, giving him full access to your body on instinct at this point, “John, we gave up on the schedule. You can come whenever you want. Or, you can stop.”

“Can’t stop,” he kissed your mouth as he leaned over you, and you tasted peppermint and tobacco mixing together with something heady and lustful, “We’re in the window.”

Ah. The Window. All of the boys talked about The Window and when it was coming up next. They’d all downloaded trackers on their phones, watching you like birds of prey for when you ordered a box of tampons, checking with you to see when you were off the rag. And then, you’d be “in the window” of ovulation. Their best chance at succeeding at this mission.

They would fuck you at any time of the month, and Soap and Price would even fuck you through your period, having read in some magazine that there was a small chance of success. But, being in The Window was like covering yourself in honey in the middle of a cave in spring and waking up all the bears inside it. Fertile ground, ripe for the taking.

“Mm, fuck,” you keened. John had two fingers in you now, pressing on your soft spots and stretching your hole. You wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, which he moaned into.

“Feel good, Spar? You want to make me hard, pretty bird?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, “Yeah, I do. Please, John…”

He slipped himself in, half-hard already, and you felt the body of it slide into your core. It was soft, and you liked to squeeze it with your muscles, feeling him writhe inside of you when you did, reveling in his pleasure. He sat back on his heels to let you play with him fully, watching you grind your hips on him as he massaged your clit to its full, swollen height. He was in no rush, and he spoke to you casually.

“Has Kyle been in this weekend?”

“No, it was Soap,” you tried to remember, “And then Ghost, and then Soap again.”

Price chuckled warmly,

“That boy wants a baby so badly.”

You smiled with him, agreeing,

“He does. He interrupted Gaz on Thursday and asked him when he’d be done!”

Price laughed with you then, his eyes gleaming and crinkling at the edges,

“Oh, Christ. He’d be a good one. They’d all be good.”

You watched his mood shift. There was something solemn about it, and you wanted to chase it away. You rubbed your hand along his furry belly, locking your ankles around his hips and shamelessly rocking your hips to fit more of him into you. You confessed,

“You’d be good.”

His eyes found yours again and he stilled, wondering out loud,

“D’you think so, Sparrow?”

“I know so.”

“Can I tell you a secret, little bird?” He whispered, lowering himself into position and stuffing his hard length even deeper inside of you, making you worry just a bit if he could hurt you with that thing.

You nodded, kissing his huge Adam’s apple in his throat and nuzzling through his beard. He told you the whole truth as he pounded himself into you without mercy,

“Sometimes, I wish he would be mine. I wish…” He almost stopped, but he kept going, like a raft in the stream, too caught in the current to go back to the shore, “I wish you could be mine, and then I could rub lotion on your belly when you got big. And I could cook for you when you got tired, and I could read to you, even when he was still inside of you, and I know he could hear my voice. I wish, sometimes, that when it happens, that I’d be the first to know. That you’d tell me first, because you knew it was mine, because you’d want him to be mine.”

You were stunned, and you were coming, and the two were very separate events. As your pussy pulsed and tried to milk him of his come, making you dizzy and almost sick with pleasure, you were shocked by his admission. You grabbed his face and made him look you in your eyes,

“John…” You panted, coming down from your first high of many with Price, “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“I didn’t either,” he smiled, but the corners didn’t reach his eyes.

When he fucked you this morning, you had no idea how good it could feel, but he showed you. He rutted into you, desperately, like some sort of beast, unable to stop himself. It was as if he would fuck himself bloody in you if he had to, and you wanted to take him as best you could. You felt him finally start to come, and he plugged you up with his thickness, shoving himself as deep as he would go, sealing you off and keeping you warm and elevated.

He kept his cock in you, gasping for breath and petting the hair out of your face. He kissed you, cheeks and chin and neck, all the way down to your breasts where he suckled from your nipples, almost dreamlike in the way he was touching you, fully covered in you the entire time.

“Sleep, birdie,” he nuzzled your neck and continued to lave his tongue over your breasts, “I’ll wake you when I’m hard again.”

Part 2

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kamiversee · 2 months

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.

You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.

You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.

And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.

Is any of this going to work? Probably not.

The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.

You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.

When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.

You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.

The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.

"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.

"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"

"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."

"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."

"I won't sir." You hum.

The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.

"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."

"For?"

"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"

The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.

You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."

Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.

"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.

He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"

You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."

"An interview?"

You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."

He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"

"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?

Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."

"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.

He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"

Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.

You smile, "Yup."

"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."

His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.

With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.

Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."

The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.

"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.

An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.

You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.

You definitely made a decent first impression on him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.

Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.

You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-

You run right into someone in the hallway.

A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.

The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.

You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.

Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.

And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.

Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.

You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.

His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.

You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"

Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.

You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.

"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.

In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."

He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."

You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.

If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.

You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.

His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."

"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.

"Yup."

"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.

He shrugs, "Nah, not really."

You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"

"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"

You shrug casually, "Psycology."

The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."

"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."

He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."

"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.

Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."

"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.

He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.

Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."

"You think I'm hot?"

"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.

He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"

"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.

"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.

Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.

He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.

His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.

"Holy shit," You breathe out.

He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."

As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.

His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."

Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?

"R-Really?" You stammer.

His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.

The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.

You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.

"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.

You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.

"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.

A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.

He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."

You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."

"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.

"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.

His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.

You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.

Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.

You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.

"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.

He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.

From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.

What a day.

Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.

As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.

You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.

Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.

No feelings.

It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.

Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.

But...

Choso was so-

No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.

This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.

Your goal is to seduce not swoon.

That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.

No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.

The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.

The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.

No relationships.

No feelings.

No romance.

Just sex.

You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.

You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.

As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.

Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.

Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.

With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.

Yeah, you'll get through this.

...Right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

Text

Hate That I Love You

adam x insecure!tsundere(ithink) GNreader

Summary: You’ve been Lutes friend for a long while, and occasionally you ran into Adam; after finding out about the extermination thanks to him, you become a three party group. Except you can’t accept liking Adam, him being obnoxious and egotistical, you pretend you hate him. That blows up in your face.

Warnings: Suggestive, swearing, angst ish, hurt/comfort i think, insecurities around strength (mental and/or physical), implied but never confirmed virgin reader, readers looks get insulted nothing intense nor specific, descriptive panic attack/fainting, reader throws an object at adam’s head, NO YN, GN, No alluding to or mention of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour. oh possibly OOC adam idk, not proofread so sorry luvs, I think that’s it if not let me know! enjoy :3

Word count: 2K

Your index finger sat atop the straw sitting in your drink, moving it around the glass as you mindlessly listened as Adam ranted to you and Lute, mostly Lute, about Charlie Morningstar. You weren’t an exorcist- no, you actually didn’t know about the exterminations at all…up until recently. Thanks to one of Adam’s childish outbursts, you had a long night with Lute explaining the whole situation to you. Now you were sworn to secrecy, and conversations of the madness that the extermination were and everything they came with, AKA Charlie.

Adam wasn’t ever your buddy, he was just someone who shamelessly attached himself to Lute's hip; but you put up with it because of your good friendship with Lute. Now, he’s somehow weaselled his way into believing you were part of this weird “team” purely based off of association.

“I mean who does this long horned, pointy teeth, pussy mucher think she is?!” Adam screamed slamming his hands against the table, you rolled your eyes at him and his stupid antics. “You’re one to talk,” You replied, his eyes snapping toward you. “You’ve got both horns and teeth. Why don’t you take that funky band mask off anyways?”

Scoffing he rolled his neck side to side. “Because this is my job, my persona, how’re people gonna recognize me without it!? Duh, dumb bitch.” Muttering the insult quickly, he leaned his cheek on his palm and went back to sucking his drink.

“With all due respect sir, this is really bad news, we can’t let Charlie persuade Sera.” Lute piped up, her mask discarded showing the genuine emotion on her face. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if he was a friend, someone she was in love with, an annoying brother-like figure, or just her lazy ass boss. Maybe all of the above.

Which is probably one of the reasons you kept your tiny little crush on Adam to yourself. He was cruel to you anyways, always comparing you to someone faster, funnier, stronger, hotter at least that’s what you told yourself. Instead you chose to be more of a bitch back, acting as disgusted and disinterested as you could, especially when Lute was around as she could sniff out a lie like some psychic canine.

“Yeah, duh Lute i fucking know that. You think I've been jerking off this whole time! No, eyes, ears focused, I haven't cum in days.” He whined, throwing his head back. Lute only scoffed glancing over at you slumped back in your seat barely sipping your drink, eyes casted downward. “You don’t have to be here for this kind of talk,” Lute started saying, her hand inching across the table to yours, but she was stopped by Adam once more leaning forward, gloved palms slapping against the table.

“The fuck are you saying Lute!? We get another fucker in this circle and you wanna cast her out. Un-fucking-believeable. It’s like you want Charlie to win.” Throwing a napkin at Adam, Lute slid her hand away from you. “They’re not even an exorcist Adam, you’re the fuck head who got them in on exterminations!”

“No i didn’t, they walked in on a private conversation.” Eyebrows knitted together you lurched forward, anger fueling you. “Oh piss off Adam, how many times are we gonna go over this stupid situation! I’m not your fucking friend, i’m not ‘in’ on it, i’m here for Lute and you won’t fucking leave!”

Adam had a bored expression on his face while you ranted, unfazed by anything you’d said. Lute however bit her lip clasping her hands together. In a fight between her boss slash friend, and her friend, she didn’t know what to do. “You always have your nose up in Lute's business, it’s so annoying. Lute’s my man, okay she works for me! Guess who comes first in this business chica? Not you.” Adam mocked sticking his tongue out at you.

Standing you picked up your cup whipping it at Adam’s head, he dodge it easily, but your emotionally fueled violence made you quickly regretful as both Adam’s and Lutes eyes looked at you questioningly. You’d never really lost your shit before, and this wasn’t the worst Adam has said, so they were a little confused at your outburst, yourself included.

“Listen, Adam, I’m-“ Before you could finish Adam keeled over, laughing maniacally as you watched. After a few short laughter filled moments, Adam straightened, elbows on the table, hands hammocking his chin as he smiled up at you.

“Got some bite in you for sure huh babe, ha! I’m not surprised, honestly when i saw you i was like ‘this bitch has a face made for hell’, you probably got up here cause you were unfuckable so, like, virgin. Oh! Oh! That makes so much fucking sense dude! Ha! Bummer, I could smell the weak loser on ya, didn’t I tell ya danger tits?” Adam questioned head turned toward Lute after his animated, and very condescending speech.

Lute only looked down, not responding. Meanwhile you were horrified, you’d always felt a little less than Lute, after all she carried out holy duties, ones that you hadn’t fully known up until recently, so hearing Adam say the same things you thought of yourself, shattered you. Your face felt hot as tears gathered on the waterline of your eyes. You didn’t belong here, you said it for the longest time everyone here was mindless optimist zombies, Lute was your only lifeline, and for a few months you suppose-Adam.

You never hated him, but it’s clear he’s only fond of Lute. You’re the intruder, you’re the odd one. Clenching your fists you didn’t even bother with a come back, you slid out from your table booking it to the door. Tears unwillingly slid down your cheeks, your chest heaving as your throat closed silencing whatever weep dared to exit your throat.

You could hear Lute calling after you but you genuinely didn’t want to be followed by her, you were embarrassed; the last thing you wanted was the strong exorcist coming to witness you crumble. Throwing the door to the building open your wings sprung out on reflex, and after a few quick steps you took off. You couldn’t quite see, or breathe for that matter. Your mind lagged behind you, replaying the moments in your head that matched up to Adam’s insults.

You blinked rapidly as you attempted to focus on the clouds beneath you and breeze around you, but you couldn’t. You choked once more, your stomach convulsing inward causing you to gasp, a sob violently escaping you as you rocketed toward whatever surface you could find. Suddenly you hit something solid, stunning your flight and causing you to spin down, plummeting. As you fell, the breeze stabbed you as you cut into it, your wings sagging and loosely flailing above you, it felt so calm and freeing you didn’t feel the will to stop.

By the grace of god, however, you were caught and roughly smacked against the chest of someone, their arms clutching you tightly. You barely heard a ‘gotcha’ before your vision tunnelled, stomach flipped and you lost consciousness.

——

Waking slowly, your eyes stung the moment they opened, nearly watering at the blinding white that invaded them. Willing yourself to rise, you lazily scanned the room you laid in. A living room, coloured with yellows, creams and whites, it was, in all honesty, way too much. A large portrait of a man with a woman, meticulously scrapped out, hung above the fireplace. You’d never seen this man ever before, and the woman was too scratched out to get any idea on who it was. Suppose these people never existed as it was a painting, but there was something about the man that captivated you so deeply.

“Look who finally rose, sleeping bitchy.” You immediately felt sick, turning your head unsurprised to see Adam standing there smugly. You frowned deeply, it felt nearly impossible to twist your mouth in such a way, but there was no hiding your distaste in seeing the angel. “Why am I here, Adam.” You say scaldingly, eyes closed attempting to shield yourself from whatever foul look took over his face. “Well after your little shit show, a little over dramatic by the way, Lute left to find you, and I went for a fly. Then suddenly minding my own business I see you tryna play asteroid! Then when I caught you, your dumbass went out.”

Sighing loudly you pulled your hand down your face. “Please, admit Lute put you up to it.” Slamming a glass of water down on the table along with a platter of fruit, including oranges, pomegranates and mangos, Adam grunted moving his hand to sit on his hips. “The fuck she did, she’s not getting the praise for this one.” You looked up at him and then down at the fruit and drink on the side table just to your right, you nodded at it. “What’s this?”

You barely whispered out. Blowing air out threw his lips effectively raspberryingring the air, he shrugged. “Stuff for you, duh, you’re like sick or something right?” You nearly smiled at that, you’d never had Adam have that reaction. Quite the array of fruit as well, carefully you picked up a few pieces of orange, as well as mango that had a toothpick sticking up from them you munched down. You hummed, watching like a hawk as Adam walked across from you and sat on the other couch.

“How long was i out?” You questioned after swallowing, gulping down some water feeling the soothing sensation on your raw throat. “Maybe thirty minutes, not long. I texted Lute, I told her you were with me, safe.” That made you pause, you gazed up at him from the bowl of pomegranates you started digging into. “What? Why didn’t she come?” Adam huffed, throwing his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Because I told her not to.” Your mouth fell open eyes wide.

“Why thee holy fuck, would you tell her not to come?” Sitting up straighter you swung your legs over the side, sitting properly instead of lounging. Adam wouldn’t meet your gaze drifting off to the left and right. “Fucking… fuck!” He exclaimed almost in what sounded like exhaustion. Watching him closely, you waited as he seemed to have an inner debate with himself. Then swiftly he gripped his face and ripped off his mask.

The face you were met with was like a punch in the gut, yeah he could be compared to men you’ve seen in your lifetime probably at a gas station or cheap bar, but it was Adam. The man you’ve been trying so hard to hate, getting into cussing battles, throwing insults at each other that rolled off the back, occasionally praising each other's insults, forcing yourself to loathe him when you both kinda knew it wasn’t and now it was real. You got to look in his gold eyes, the dark thick lashes accentuating the uniqueness of his eye colour, the chin hair that crawled just under his chin -which you never expected him to have-, his tousled brown hair, thick eyebrows one eyebrow pierced - also a shock to you-.

He looked like the asshole he was, and it made you fucking sick. Trying so hard to hate him had come to this? Him unmasking himself after saving you? Cruel, you wanted to hate him, get over him not know that all he said about him being the hottest, the dickmaster, pussypounder-whatever, was probably true, that he’s hot. You were embarrassed to feel the nasty hum of jealousy claw at you when you could see the woman in the painting in your peripheral, that was obviously him, with some woman. He was wanted, and taken before.

Flicking his tongue over his lips you caught a glimpse of a tongue piercing because of course the pretty boy would get whatever he wanted without worrying about rules. He shuffled nervously biting his lip as you eyed him shamelessly, which to him was judgemental, his nerves suddenly making him feel sweaty. “Why?” You ask breathily, you were too enchanted to care how he perceived that however. His eyes properly met yours, your legs crossed subconsciously at the zap you felt just by a look.

“Youre fucking dumb you know that? You think I hang with Lute when you’re around because Lute’s there?!” Adam stood after the exclamation, his eyes shooting around the room, hands flying to his hair. “I can’t fucking do this a third time! Fuck!” Tossing a vase across the room you watched unfazed by the sudden explosion, after all this was your thing too.

“I only go round Lute like that because you’re there dumbass, i tried easing up on you; just like Lute said! But you, oh noooo little bitch, just had to be so fucking bratty.” Standing over you sneering, you made no attempts to move, not genuinely scared of his anger but instead, perhaps, a little aroused. You in a way understood where his frustrations came from anyway, you in a sense felt the same way. Might be why you lost it earlier, the yearning had gotten too real, and he seemed so focused on Charlie.

“I am so disgustingly attracted to you, not even in a sex way! And I know how to deal with that a lot better.” Swinging his hand out sassily, he smirked to himself. Plopping next to you he rested his cheek on his hand, elbows rested on his legs. Plucking an orange from the table you watched him eat it, juice moistening his lips. “You think i’d peel fruit, save, house and give water to some broad I genuinely hated? No, stupid.”

Laughing dryly, you looked up away from Adam’s intense gaze. You smiled, eyes falling from the ceiling to your lap. “God i fucking hate you,” Adam’s face looked horrified, opening his mouth to speak, you stopped him grabbing his cheeks and pulling into a searing hot kiss. Your lips crashed against each others’ lazily but passionately, opened mouthed and slightly sloppy. It was slow however, a kiss that wasn’t just a kiss, neither of you wanted to haste past such a moment, such emotion. Adam’s arms wrapped around your hips nudging you forward, understanding the message you moved in closer, your body’s pressing against each other as much as you could from the seated position on the couch.

You dug your fingers into his hair, brainlessly playing with different strands as your tongues slid along one another’s without care, tasting the orange he just ate presently on his lips and to tongue. It felt heavenly being up against him, Adam smelt so good, he was so warm and you could feel how badly he wanted this. His body jittered, his hands gripping you like you’d disappear if he loosened. Pulling away and looking at Adam, he made no effort to move eyes still closed like trying to etched this memory in his mind. You hummed lovingly, brushing hair away from his forehead. “You’re a dumb bitch.” He whispered raspily, opening his eyes, although not by much as they lidded with lust.

You smirked at him brushing your thumb against his bottom lip. “I know. You too.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fluff

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 days

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.

Word Count: 9.8 k

Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision

Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more.

“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”

Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force.

“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind.

“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.

Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.

Fuck, this is bad.

Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”

“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.

“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.

“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off.

“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected.

Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him.

With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.

Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.

The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.

Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.

Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.

It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.

Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.

Who said you needed to rush off anyway?

As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.

Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.

Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.

And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.

Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace.

“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.

“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”

It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways.

Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis.

He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet.

The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted.

“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips.

Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.

If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…

Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself.

He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.

…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon.

A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest.

You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.

“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.

Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”

Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.

“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.

Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.

“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs.

More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.

Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.

“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face.

There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him.

Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.

“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”

“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.

His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.

“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.”

Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork.

“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.

He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away.

“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips.

“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.

There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.

Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.

“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.

You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”

Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.

He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.

The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.

It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon.

“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”

You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.

There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.”

“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss.

“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.

Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed.

Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.

One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling.

He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.

There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”

This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold.

“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race.

Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.

“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.

Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.

An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base.

With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office.

“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.

“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?”

“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.

He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.

Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze.

“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.

Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”

Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?”

The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.

Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.

“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”

The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart.

He has dragged you into hell with him.

“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”

“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.

Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. ��But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”

The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said.

Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”

With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.

The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known.

Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.

Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you.

He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight.

“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably.

More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible.

“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”

That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured.

“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.

Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.

“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.

Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”

“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”

“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”

More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before.

“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?

Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”

He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think.

You can give him time, right?

“Please, Simon, just look at me.”

Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.

“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another.

Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”

Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time.

Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.

“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.

Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”

You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same.

Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen.

Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.

But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.

Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way.

Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours.

Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”

“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”

Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”

The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.

He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”

In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.

“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern.

You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head.

Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”

Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?

Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?”

You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”

Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness.

“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”

Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.

Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had.

Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.

You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.

“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today.

“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go.

You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”

“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside.

“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.

There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.

You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.

“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.”

Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?

It doesn’t make sense.

“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…”

Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”

More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant.

“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Are you saying you want to go against Price?”

His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else.

“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”

“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth.

You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.

At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.

Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…”

You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid.

Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.

“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”

He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?”

You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.”

Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.

A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg.

Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.

“Make it count,” you breathe.

You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.

His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.

“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets.

He is gone.

The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.

The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…

What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it.

He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.

The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?

It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?

Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.

“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”

The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”

Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.

“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”

“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.

“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this.

“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”

Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”

Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass

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bluecollarmcandtf · 4 months

Text

My Son Came Home just the Other Day...

...and I just had to tell him how proud I was! My boy had become a strong young man! I'd been bragging to everyone I knew that my son, Private Joel Bishop, had made it through basic training and was on the way home to see his good old dad! I never knew being a father would bring me such joy, but here I am.

I slapped Joel on the back approvingly and discreetly wiped my eye. Things were getting too 'touchy-feely' for my taste, and we still had a whole night of celebration ahead of us.

"That means a lot, dad," he grinned as I pulled away, "but you deserve the credit. Should I grab some cold ones so we can catch up?"

I smiled, enjoying the humility and respect I had instilled in my son's character. He more than deserved the reward I had planned: dinner an expensive steakhouse and a box of premium cigars. I threw a hand on his shoulder and opened my mouth to reveal the surprise!

Instead, the words, "Son I need to introduce you to our new neighbor," came out of my mouth: definitely not what I intended.

That seemed strange. I surely hadn't meant to say that; however, when I thought about it, I did seem to remember something the neighbor had mentioned yesterday. Maybe I had promised to introduce my son to him. It must have been a good idea, if I was suggesting it. I would have to hurry though because our reservation was soon, and I couldn't wait to see the look on Joel's face when he found out what I had planned!

"Uh, sure," Joel answered, waiting for an explanation, "Who is it?"

"He's a great man!" I instantly shouted, feeling overwhelmingly defensive about the newcomer. I wasn't sure why I felt that way because I could barely even remember the guy.

Joel flinched at my sudden outburst, but I brushed it off and led him out the back door. My son followed me through the gate and into the backyard of our next door neighbor. Somehow, I knew I was only supposed to enter from the back door. My hand dug into a nearby planting pot and found a spare key. I'm not exactly sure how I knew that was there, but I shrugged it off and unlocked the door.

Joel didn't question me, but he seemed mildly annoyed. I'm glad he didn't ask what I was doing because I had no clue! My body marched on autopilot down a short hallway and parked in the middle of a living room. Our neighbor seemed to be busy napping on his couch. My cheeks flushed when I realized I had just walked in on the man sleeping.

"Excuse me sir," my voice suddenly rang out loudly, "My son Joel is back from the army."

Joel glared at me in confusion, "Dad what-"

"Shut it, kid," the man on the couch snapped awake and stretched, "Come stand quietly in front of me so I can get a good look at you."

Joel's mouth shut tight at the man's request. He marched up to our neighbor and stood at attention. There was something strangely automatic about his movements, like they were choreographed ahead of time. I suppose this is just how they learn to act in the army.

"Hmm, yes," the neighbor purred from the couch, "You're sexier than your dad described."

My jaw clenched and my fists tightened! Why the hell was this guy making those kinds of comments about my son! I had never spoken with this weirdo, and I had certainly never described my son in that way!

If this guy wasn't careful, he was going to get a fight! I would of course stand and wait like a dumb bitch until I was dismissed, but once I was, I'd let him know! For now, I'll just try and contain myself.

"Why so red-faced," he turned a haughty look to me, "You remember our conversation yesterday, right Mr. Bitch?"

Suddenly, my memory flooded back. Of course I remembered! I'd popped by our new neighbor's house to introduce myself. He had invited me in and we'd gotten talking. I had bragged about how my parenting had yielded the perfect son. Our neighbor had then launched into a long and boring lecture.

My neighbor pointed out that I'd been pronouncing my surname wrong all these years! I'm a total idiot! It's 'Bitch' not 'Bishop!' He'd also changed my plans on how to celebrate my son's homecoming.

"Of, course I remember," I gasped dumbly as it all flooded back, "Sorry, sir. As you know, I can be a bit of a dumb bitch."

"Everyone knows that, old man. Do you even remember what you have to do whenever you enter my house?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," I replied as the instructions came back to me, "I am to go to the bathroom, stick my head in the toilet, and flush it seven times."

"That's it! And don't forget to keep your mouth open when it flushes, you old fart" he cracked up and laughed at me.

I nodded and left my son with our new neighbor, reporting to the bathroom like I was supposed to. Sticking my face in his skid marked toilet was the worst part about coming over. How could I have forgotten something like that? Without hesitating, I dropped to the floor and dipped below the toilet water, keeping my jaw locked open like he had suggested. I blindly found the handle and flushed the first wave over my head.

"All done, sir!" I called loudly, feeling compelled to announce my achievement.

Everything above my neck has been thoroughly soaked by the swirly, and it was quickly dripping down my clothes. My favorite shirt was now drenched! I wanted badly to dry off with the towel nearby, but I somehow knew that I was supposed to leave the toilet water on me instead.

Trudging back into the living room, I tried to prevent puddles by soaking the dripping water into my clothes, but it didn't work very well.

"Joel? What are you doing, son?" I blurted when I found him on his hands and knees.

Joel gazed up at me with a bizarre look on his face. It was as if he didn't even understand what he was doing down on the floor. His eyes seemed unfocused, like they weren't really seeing what was going on around him.

Nevertheless, he glanced over his shoulder at our new neighbor. It was like he was looking for guidance. My eyes followed his and we both found ourselves looking to the stranger for what to do next.

"Go on, boy," our neighbor chided, "Tell Mr. Bitch how you feel."

"Please," I straightened up, "Just call me Bitch. We're all friends here." I didn't care if a puddle was pooling at my feet. My son clearly had something important to say to me.

"Ok, Daddy," Joel blankly answered the guy on the couch. Then he turned an empty gaze to me, "Bitch, I'm moving out of your house. I want to live with our new neighbor. I want to be his slave boy and serve him any way I can."

I felt compelled to agree. I almost told him I was happy for him, but something felt off. Something had been gnawing at the back of my head ever since my son had gotten home. This wasn't how our night was supposed to go. My son and I were supposed to be enjoying steaks and cigars right now!

I shook my head a little. Beads of water flew from my hair, and I couldn't shake how wrong I had been acting. Why had I just given myself a swirly? And why was my son making such delusional statements?

"Woah, there big guy," our creepy next door neighbor hushed, "You're thinking too hard. You remember what you like to do when you think too hard right, Bitch?"

I breathed a sigh of relief out of my chest my chest when I remembered, "Yes, sir. I like to shove your leftovers down my pants when I'm thinking to hard."

Without another thought, I strolled into the kitchen and yanked the fridge open with a numb arm. A euphoric sense of relaxation washed over me when I saw a container of leftover spaghetti. Before I knew what I was doing, my hands had popped the lid off and fished the noodles and red sauce down the inside of my dress slacks. Once the container was empty, I zipped up my pants like nothing had happened and returned to the living room.

"Feeling better, Bitch?" my neighbor asked.

My glassy eyes noticed my son crouched by the feet of our neighbor. Joel was busy cleaning the guy's shoes, and I couldn't be more happy. So what if this is what he wanted to do with his life? He could become our neighbor's sex slave for all I cared. It's not like I cared about the kid. If he really had a chance to serve a man as great as our neighbor, then who cares about serving our country!

"Yeaah..." I moaned lightly.

"You like my homemade spaghetti?" the neighbor chuckled meanly.

"Yeeaaah..." my voice came out drawn, "It feels really cold..."

"Man, you are a gross bitch, but I programmed you to fall deeper every time you humiliate yourself for me. Do you what I'm going to have you do next?"

"Nooo..."

"You're going to make your reservation at that restaurant," he looked me up and down, "And you'll go in those clothes you've soiled. Get drunk off your ass, alright Bitch? I want you to make a complete fool out of yourself."

I'd already turned to follow his orders when he turned back to my son, "I'm gonna play with little soldier boy here. Maybe I'll pass him around to my buddies so they can give him a try..."

I didn't hear what else was in store for Joel. I wasn't too bothered by my son. I'm sure he'd be able to make our neighbor happy. I was just excited to go to the steak house and start humiliating myself...

#gay mind control #humiliation kink #embarassing #gross

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

Text

Listen to me

Miles Quaritch x female recombinant reader

Words: 3.9k

Summary: The cute newbie of his squad enjoys late night activities way too much, keeping Miles up every single night since she moved into the quarters next to his room.

Warnings: explicit smut, masturbation, mutual masturbation, p in v, doggy, accidental voyeurism, secret crush, teasing, creampie, age difference, alien biology, Z-dog being a subtle wingman lol, degradation & praise kink, just quaritch being quaritch (reader calls him Sir)

Of course they had warned him about this. The heightened senses and all that. Miles knew about the Na‘vi’s keen sense of smell, their incredible eye sight and the distinctive hearing, even before he became one of them. Well, sort of.

What he didn’t expect though, was how incredibly good his senses actually were now.

It was a blessing and a curse.

A blessing mostly because it gave him an advantage, made him better than the human soldiers, a better version of his own past self. And finally he was eye level with his sworn enemy. But as soon as he was back in bridgehead city, back at the base and in his private quarters, it was curse. Miles could handle his new body and all the changes that came with it, there was no doubt in that. But out of all things, it was his distinctive hearing that quite literally made his life hell. Well, not his whole life but specifically his nights.

To his right, there was Lyle‘s room. The Corporal had always been a heavy sleeper, snoring louder than the roar of a Thanator. It was annoying, but bearable, even with his heightened senses. To his right, however, there was your room.

Miles didn’t know you when you were a human, he had only frequently met you when you had joined his team. You were a cute thing, young and eager and maybe a little too pretty to be a recom soldier. You looked more like you belonged to the nerds working in the bio labs, always walking around with that bright smile and sunshine attitude. And you definitely got on his nerves more than he would like to admit. More so, when Ardmore made you move in to the room right next to his. Now his nights were spent mostly sleepless, forced to listen to the little night owl he had as his new neighbor. All thanks to the Na‘vi and their damn distinctive hearing.

On some nights, it felt like there weren’t any walls at all. He could hear you loud and clear, like you were standing right here in his room as you did your little bedtime routine, several hours after you were supposed to go to bed.

Quaritch could hear how you turned on the shower, the water running against the tiled wall and down the drain for a good ten minutes until he heard you step under the spray. You probably loved a good, hot shower, he noticed right away in the first night. From then on, with nothing better to do than to lay there and listen to the newbie showering, Miles often found himself imagining you under the spray of water.

He just couldn’t help it. His mind almost instantly presented him with a clear picture of your naked body, imagining you all wet and soapy, with your hands running over your curves. Fuck, he could smell your damn shampoo all the way from here. Fucking vanilla, he scoffed, as his hands found the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down enough to free his now hard cock. He would make you run an extra mile around the campus tomorrow, just for that.

It’s not often that he had some alone time on this damn planet. Better use his precious time wisely if he couldn’t sleep anyway…

At least he had his private quarters, unlike most of his subordinates who either had to keep it in their pants or be stealthy about it. Or didn’t care what others might think of their nightly jerkoff session.

Miles was so hard, his cock was throbbing painfully in his palm as he begins to move his hand up and down, stroking lazily to the thought of you. Faintly, he remembers overhearing a conversation between you and Z-dog from a couple of days ago. It was after a mission, when she had asked how you always smelled so nice and what you used to keep your skin so soft. Their new bodies required more care than what they were used to when they were all still human, so you happily recommended her some oil that you frequently used. Of course you went into full detail, talking about how she had to use a generous amount and make sure to rub it into her skin and fucking great, now he was imagining you oiling yourself up like a damn snack.

Miles was gritting his teeth as he stroked over his shaft, squeezing the blue tip of his cock just right, forcing the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. While he enjoyed fast-pace excitement every so often, it was nice to take his time and let all the pleasure course through him.

Out of all his years of living, he had never wanted to bend a woman over so bad. It was an unfamiliar feeling, something that hadn’t plagued his usually cool and composed mind in such a long time. You just looked so inviting, so good, so kissable, suckable, so fuckable. Miles wanted to bend you, eat you and fuck you in so many different ways, he wanted to make you cry. He wanted to see tears trickle down that beautiful face of yours, wanted to see those plumb lips slick with spit and his cum. And fuck, did he wanted to see that ass bounce on him. You were almost as sweet as your delicious ass looked. Quaritch wasn’t the type to stare, he barely paid you any attention at all, truth be told. But god damn, was it hard not to crane his neck to get a glimpse of that ass whenever you walked by.

On some nights, his perverted thoughts would come to an end once you mercifully decided to end your twenty minute long hot shower and went to bed. On other nights however, you didn’t went straight to bed. Well, to bed yes but… not to sleep. Those nights were the very reason Miles was cursing your name so venomently while wrapping his fist tightly around his cock.

Those nights, where you would settle down with the faint creak of your bed and where he could pinpoint the exact moment your breathing increased. He could see it clear as day in his minds eye, how you laid down and spread those pretty legs, ran your soft hands down over your stomach until they disappeared between your thighs. Oh, how he would love to bite into the soft of your inner thighs, leave his marks there, before he would taste you. Miles frequently imagined the flavor of your pussy and he could almost taste it on his tongue every time. He bets you’re so sweet– all dripping wet, smelling like that damn vanilla stuff and so fucking delicious.

The recom‘s ears twitched as they picked up the sounds of your tender fingers entering your slick cunt. God, what he would give to replace them with his cock. Miles tried to stroke his length in the same rhythm of those obscene squelching sounds coming from the room next door. But those sweet moans and heavy pants that left your lips made it very difficult for him to not fuck his fist like a madman.

There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he hears you shift around on your bed, clearly turning to your side to reach for something.

By now, he already knew the familiar sound of your nightstand drawer getting pulled open. It was a sound that would probably wake him up from the deepest slumber and instantly give him a boner. Like some sort of muscle memory or whatever. And that even though he absolutely hated when you used your toys. And you seemingly had a various amount of them. Going by the way you were moaning and whimpering on some nights, they had different sizes too. Oh you would definitely be able to take all of him, if he were ever going to stuff that needy little hole of yours.

But the worst of all was whatever toy you owned that was buzzing so fucking loud. He cursed it. Were you really that desperate that you needed a vibrator too? It was almost impossible to hear your sweet moans, thanks to that damn thing.

If you needed something to fill you up so bad, why didn’t you just ask? There were like… ten guys in his squad that would gladly bend you over the next best surface, going by the way they all looked at you and tried their absolute most to sweet talk their way into your pants. Why the fuck were you rejecting them, if you needed to get laid so bad?

Nevertheless, Miles thanked god you didn’t settle for that vibrator today. Whatever you had chosen instead though, must’ve been big enough for you to whine so loud, even a regular without distinctive hearing could’ve heard that.

Quaritch‘s imagination provides him with images of you, laying on your bed and with your legs spread wide while you thrust the toy into you. Or would you kneel? Would you hover over it and slowly sink down, forcing the silicon cock to stretch you out to the absolute most? Maybe you were the type of girl that would enjoy a little pain, maybe you would rush it because you’re so desperate. You would just sit down and take it all at once, because you love the sting that the sudden stretch brings. He imagines how you bounce on that fake cock, humping like a little bunny in heat and he groans through clenched teeth, wishing it was him instead.

Speeding up his movements, Miles hips were already bucking up to fuck into his fist, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. Shit, he was close. It had been so long since he'd let himself have a satisfying release, but this would have to do. He would end up shooting his cum into his fist, instead of a wet little pussy that would actually satisfy his needs. Then he would clean himself and he would try to rest for at least a few more hours, until he had to get up for his squad’s morning workout. And he would look at you– if he would even look at you, no, he would most definitely ignore you just like any other day, acting like none of this has ever happened. Like he wasn’t daydreaming about fucking you stupid every second of the day.

This was how it was supposed to go. How it always went.

Just not today, though.

At first, Miles thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. That it was just his brain adding further stimulation to the imaginary scenario in his head, in favor of helping him cum. But then he heard it again.

A soft, high-pitched and keening whine of his name. His damn name.

"Miles– oh god Miles, fuck yes", you were moaning, chanting his name like a prayer. Like you were begging for him to come over and help you out.

Miles head perked at the sound, so audible even through the wall that separated your rooms. And then it was like his body moved without his brain telling him to. Pulling his boxers back up and rearranging himself, he made his way over to the room next door.

It took a whole five minutes after knocking that you finally opened. The door creaked open just a few inches, revealing your delicate frame to him. The room behind you was almost dark, the only source of light was coming from the dim hallway. Quaritch couldn’t hide the smug grin that formed on his face by the sight of you, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt that had the RDAs logo printed on it, your tail nervously swaying behind your back. And you weren’t wearing a bra, by the looks of it. What a delightful sight for his hungry eyes.

When you realize that it’s him, your eyebrows rise in surprise and you open the door just a little wider. "C-Colonel, Sir, what— it’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?"

Miles takes a step closer to you and your eyes widen. "Next time you need a hand, kid", he takes another step, "just ask me."

He steps closer and closer, until you’re left with no choice but to let him in. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks have turned into dark blush of purple, as you look at him. He then closes the door behind your back and with the way he’s standing, he’s basically towering over you.

"Heard you moaning my name like a little bitch in heat", he then tells you grinning and you swallow thickly, "was wondering when you’d finally ask for help."

With that, he spins you around, your hands flat against the cool metal door, before he positions himself behind you. You don’t resist when he kicks your legs apart and rides your shirt up, enough to expose your lower half to him.

"Hm, would you look at that", he hums, "No panties, huh?"

"I- I had to hurry to open the door, sir", you try to explain but the Colonel only chuckles. You feel his hands, caressing the back of your thighs and the curve of your bottom. He kneads the plump cheeks of you ass in his big hands, his head tilted enough to get a glimpse of your pussy when he spreads your cheeks. Your lips and inner thighs are covered in your arousal, glistening in the dim room and he can’t help but lick his lips at the sight.

"Ah right. And what were you doing before that?"

Miles pulls his boxer briefs down enough to free his hard length before he lines himself up, the head of his hard cock rubbing along your slit, coating himself in your slickness. He hears you gasp and your head hangs low between your arms, support yourself on the door. He gives you a minute to relish in the feeling of his cock sliding between your wet folds before he clicks his tongue, "Answer me when I’m talking to you."

You can’t help yourself. His words have your pussy clenching around nothing and you are so desperate to finally get what you’ve been wishing and praying for, you’re left with no choice but to respond to his teasing, "I‘m– I was… I was fingering myself." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but you know he’s heard you loud and clear.

"Just your fingers?", he scoffs, "Didn’t sound like it was just your fingers. Don’t lie to me, sweetheart."

His hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer so the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you hold your breath. He’s thick and warm and he pushes himself in so painfully slow, you can’t help but whimper. But then he retreats, pulling the very few inches he had granted you right back out. It was torture, all that just to make you talk.

"F-Fuck okay, okay! I was using… toys", you shamefully admit.

With those words he slams his hips forward, cock forcing itself deep inside you, the blunt head hitting your cervix in a way that has your legs quaking. And if you weren’t being pushed against the door, with his big hands supporting your weight by your hips, you would already be on the floor.

"What kind of toys?", Miles asks you so nonchalantly, it’s beyond you how he can keep his voice so composed while he’s buried balls deep inside you. "Anything big, hm? Bigger than me?"

You can’t really see him from your current position, but you know he’s grinning– that shit eating grin, with the tip of his fangs showing.

You quickly shake your head, "N-No sir!"

"You know what? I believe you, cupcake. You’re still so fucking tight, there’s no way you were using anything bigger than me. I barely fit, jesus christ." Quaritch exhales a shaky breathe, his eyes fixed to where you were joined, how you hugged his length tightly and he knew just from the feeling of your wet walls sucking him in, that this couldn’t be a one time thing. You had him addicted already and while this wasn’t even done yet, he was already imagining all the positions he would bend you in next.

“Gonna fuck you now. Think you can take it?” He all but growls in your ear, the timbre of it making you clench around him and you nod, desperately wiggling your hips to get him to move. “Good fucking girl", he gruffs out the praise, hips starting to retract and snap back at a furious pace.

Quaritch fell into a steady pace, the swing of his hips becoming quick and rhythmic. The slap of skin on skin filled his ears, joined by the breathless panting and moans that escaped your lips, sounding more and more desperate with each passing second and every stroke of his cock.

The firm snap of his hips against yours made your eyes roll to the back of your head, while you were trembling on unsteady feet to keep yourself upright. The way he was fucking into you was everything but lovingly. Quaritch was using you, using you for his own pleasure and fucking hell– you loved every second of it.

Especially so, when one of his hands encircles your middle and drops low between your thighs to search for your clit. Once found, he lightly slaps the little bundle of nerves and you suck in a breathe between clenched teeth. He then proceeded to roll it between his rough thumb and index finger, drawing tight circles that have you moan and squirm underneath his touch.

"F-Fuck yes, right t-there oh my god", you cry out when he speeds up the movement of thrusts, combined with the flicks of skillful digits between your thighs. You both knew that neither of you would last long, not with the way you both unknowingly worked each other up.

Some sane part of your brain registers that there’s no way the rest of your squad, the recoms in the other rooms that were littered along the hallway, couldn’t hear what was going on. Strangely enough, that thought starts tightening the coil inside of you, making you clench around him harder.

"That’s it, cupcake, don’t hold back", Quaritch groans, "Let everyone here how good I’m making you feel, be as loud as you need to. Never had a problem with that anyways, am I right?"

He pounded into you then, the head of his cock rapidly hitting your g-spot in the process while he rubbed your clit in a matching pace. Your jaw dropped and your hand clenched into fists against the door, but oh, that wasn't all that was clenching. Your breathing turned needy and higher pitched, struggling to keep steady as he was driving you over the edge faster.

You feel a familiar tension crawl under your skin, a warmth spreading through your core and you can’t help but push yourself back against him. You wanted– no, you needed to cum.

"God, look at you fucking taking it", Miles groans, biting his bottom lip hard enough to keep himself from spilling just a few moments longer. He was already so close from his little jerk off session, it was on the verge of edging himself now. But he wanted to feel you fall apart, wanted to feel you come first. He wanted to use your orgasm, the pulsing rhythm of your thigh pussy clenching down on him to help him over the edge.

It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. "Oh fuck, I’m gonna come", is the only thing you manage to get out before your orgasm pulses throughout your body and you moan, loud and lewd. You should probably feel embarrassed for being so vocal in the middle of the night, but you couldn’t care less right now. It was too late to feel embarrassed now. Especially when the Colonel was fucking you through it so good.

"Shit, would you look at that. You look delicious enough to eat, so damn pretty when you cum around my cock."

You feel his pace change before you can even come down from your high. It’s not necessarily slower, but his thrusts become shorter, deeper and they knock you forward until you can barely hold yourself upright against that damn door.

Quaritch grunts, ears flat against his head, as he reaches his own limit with a hiss. He buries his cock deep inside your cunt, cursing as he pumps his release straight into you. It’s hot and sticky and feel every rope of his cum enter you, while the hands on your hips hold you firm, hard enough to bruise. You moan and quiver as you’re filled, his heat pouring into you, filling you to the absolute brim, before spilling over and bubbling onto the floor.

"Can’t deny you’re a good fuck, cupcake", Quaritch tells you panting, pulling his cock out of you a little too fast for your liking. You cringe when you feel more of his cum seep out of you and the feeling of it smearing between your thighs leaves you feeling filthy. You push yourself off the door, your face flustered as you turn around and you avoid his gaze at all cost. Nervously, you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, pulling it down enough to hide your private parts from. As if he didn’t just get a front row seat to look at your pussy in all its glory…

Shit– what were you even thinking, letting this happen? Quaritch was basically your boss! And now your secret little crush on him wasn’t so secret anymore…. All that just because you couldn’t keep it down. But how were you supposed to know that he was able to hear you all this time? Fucking thank you for that Z-dog, you curse your next door neighbor. She could’ve at least said something, assuming that she must have heard you too then.

You just can’t bring yourself to look up at the man standing in front of you, too awkward now that you realized how much of a fool you’ve made out of yourself, moaning like a slut for the whole world to hear. It’s not until you hear Quaritch scoff that you take a quick glance at him. He looks entirely too good standing there in his boxer briefs and muscle shirt, board arms crossed over his chest, right where his dog tags dangle against his sweaty skin. Oh god…

He grins with his canine showing and tilts his head in amusement, when he sees you swallow thickly and adverting your gaze from his body to his eyes in a not so subtle way.

"If you’re so needy, at least come over and let me help you out", he then tells you with a chuckle and your eyes widen at his unexpected words, "Instead of keeping me up all night and forcing me to listen to you, fucking yourself with whatever toys you’ve got in that drawer. Got it?"

"Yes sir…"

#･｡ﾟ☆: *my works* :☆ﾟ.#miles quaritch x reader smut #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #quaritch smut #recom quaritch #quaritch x reader #atwow quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #avatar quaritch #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #jake sully x female reader #avatar smut

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

Text

Where It All Starts (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary: reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Words count: 1.1k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! I have a lot of ideas to write about Joel Miller fanfiction and I haven’t finished writing them all. I only have a few days before I start working but I want to write as much as I can. I’m pretty nervous since it’s my first full-time job. Wish me luck!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

“Please just let me go! I can’t do this anymore!” You heard a woman’s yell from outside your house while washing the dishes.

“Baby, please.. Just do this for Sarah. Please.” A man begged.

*baby cried*

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

Curiosity ate you. You peeked through your window and saw your neighbor were having a fight. Assuming they were husband and wife with a newborn baby. The man was carrying the baby while the woman was trying to get inside the car.

“Get in that car and there’s no coming back!” The man raised his voice.

You felt guilty for eavesdropping because that should be a private conversation but they fought in front of their house and you’re pretty sure everyone in the neighborhood heard them.

The next morning when you were preparing breakfast, you heard a knock.

“Can I help you?” It was the man from last night.

“Ugh yes, I’m sorry to bother you early in the mornin’. I was wonderin’ if you could help me with somethin’.” He put his hand behind his neck.

“Yeah, sure? What can I help you with?” You opened your door wider and invited him in.

“I live next door…I just had a baby and somethin’ happened with her mom..and I have to go to work so no one is watchin’ my daughter. Uh..You look young, I’m assuming you’re still in college, maybe you could help me babysit my daughter? I’ll pay you of course.”

“Oh! Uhm..Well..I’m not in college actually. I’ve graduated.” You chuckled.

“But I’ll take that as a compliment, sir.”

“Sorry.” Joel chuckled.

“Uhm..how old is your daughter?”

“She’s just 3 months old.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened. You had never had a baby but you had always wanted one. But how could you possibly be able to babysit a newborn without experience?

“Sure, I’d like to help.” You were blinded by the man’s puppy eyes.

“Really can you do that? How about your work? Because I don’t want to burden you.”

“That’s not a problem, sir. I’m taking over my parents’ cafe nearby so I can take your daughter with me. If that’s okay.”

“You’re the best. Thank you. I’m Joel by the way. Joel Miller” He extended his hand to shake yours.

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n).” You shook his hand.

Joel invited you to his house and introduced his daughter to you.

“This is Sarah.”

“Hi Sarah. You’re so cute.” You booped her on the nose.

“Do you know how to hold a baby?” Joel asked you.

“I’ve held my nephew before but-”

“Here. Support her head like this.” Joel instructed you.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that. Don’t worry, you’re doing good.” He placed his hand on your shoulder.

His touch made your heart beat faster. You know you shouldn’t be thinking about this since he just got into a fight with his wife last night. But you couldn’t help it. He could be a single dad any time in the future or probably now. And you admitted your neighbor was a hot young dad.

“So this is the bag. It has everything in it. Diapers, baby formula, and other things. She eats every 2-3 hours. Here’s the house key.”

“Got it.” You nodded.

“Okay, I’m runnin’ late. Here’s my number. Just call me if you need anythin’.” He shoved you a paper written with his phone number.

“You goin’ to work now?”

“Ugh-yes.”

“Want me to drive you?” Joel offered to drive you since your hands were full.

“It’s okay. I’ll drive myself.” You refused his offer.

“Okay, well. At least let me help you get settled in your car then?” He carried the big baby bag to your car and helped you settle the baby car seat in your car.

You put Sarah in the car seat and brought her to work.

“When did you have a baby again?” You co-workers couldn’t stop staring at the baby you brought to work.

“It’s not mine. It’s my neighbor’s. He’s-” You sighed.

“He? Single dad?” Flo’s eyes widened. She was still in college and working part-time at your cafe. She had a thing for single dads that was why she was interested in your situation.

“I’m not sure. But I heard him fighting with his wife last night. It sounded bad.” You shrugged.

“This could be it. This could be it.” She shook your body excitedly.

“Could be what?” You stopped her.

“You know. I know you’re lonely. And you definitely need a man. Why don’t you try it with him? Is he hot?” She raised her eyebrows up and down.

“I don’t know, Flo. I mean I’m still not ready and I’m sure he isn’t too.”

“Is.he.hot?” Flo repeated.

“Well, kinda?” You shrugged.

“Want my advice boss? I’d say you should flirt with him.” She crossed her arms to her chest.

You rolled your eyes.

“Want my advice? Get back to work or I will cut your pay.” You squinted your eyes.

“Yes, boss.”

Flo was right. Maybe this was your chance to start dating again. Since the last time you had your heart broken, you were too focused on helping your family’s business. But once you wanted to try dating again, you got a soon-to-be single hot dad? You always had a thing for dads. Just like Flo. Did you win the lottery? Probably. Let’s see.

Sarah wasn’t hard to babysit. You worked while babysitting her and your co-workers helped you so it wasn’t really hard work. You went home by dinner time and left your cafe to your employees to close the store. You put sleeping Sarah to her crib then went back to your car to get the bag. While you were closing the car door, Joel’s car parked on the driveway. You stopped and waited for him.

“Hi.” You put the bag strap to your shoulder.

“Hi. How was she? I hope she’s not taking your energy too much.” He walked closer to you and took the bag from you.

“She’s well-behaved actually.” You smiled and passed him the baby bag.

“Thank God.” Joel sighed.

“I put her to sleep.” You told Joel proudly.

“Thank you. I owe you a lot. I really appreciate it.” He placed his hand on your shoulder again.

“Did you eat dinner Mr. Miller?” You tried to flirt just as Flo told you.

“Not yet. Just call me Joel, please.”

“Joel.” You hummed.

“Pizza?” Joel suggested.

“Sure.”

Joel called for a pizza delivery and the two of you spent dinner together. You talked about college and work but not relationships. You were avoiding that topic and so did Joel.

“Thanks for dinner.” You thanked Joel as he walked you home which was just next to his house.

“Anytime.” He put his hands in his pocket.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow when I get Sarah?”

“Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow. Have a good night.” He kissed your cheek awkwardly.

“Good night, Joel.”

To be continued...

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aehvs · 5 months

Text

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥

𝐏𝐭 1

𝐦𝐢𝐳𝐮 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Mizu didn't expect to meet someone so similar to her in a brothel.

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞: fluff

Mizu was known far and wide for being a ruthless demon. A soulless halfbreed with one goal in life; revenge. And maybe part of it was true, she always considered stuff like friendship or love to be useless, nothing but a distraction towards her greater goal.

That was, until she met you.

While she and her 'apprentice' were in madam Kaji's brothel, you'd caught her attention immediately. Your slightly lighter, curly hair stood out like a sore thumb amongst your coworkers. You were the only worker there who hadn't tried to seduce her or Ringo.

"Master, do you see that lady? Do you think she's like you?" was the question Ringo loudly asked. Mizu just shook her head in dismissal. What did it matter if you were like her. You were nothing but a prostitute anyway.

After her conversation with madam Kaji, she retreated to a private room for the night. Just as she started to relax, a silent knock was heard on the door, before it slid open slightly. "I already stated I didn't want company." her cold voice pierced the small space.

"I am not here to seduce you, sir. I'm merely here to serve you fresh tea. It is included in the price of your stay" your voice was a stark contrast to hers, soft and gentle. She turned to face the door as you slid it open, bowing politely while holding the tray with tea and some rice cakes.

She eyed you closely as you set the tray down, taking the teapot to pour her a cup. Her bright blue eyes were cold, yet held a spark of intrigue in them. You did indeed look a bit like her. You were quite beautiful, your features unlike anything she'd ever seen before, aside from herself. Your pretty curly hair was loose, falling down your back in a way Mizu couldn't help but admire.

You noticed the intense stare directed at you, most importantly at your hair. It didn't bother you too much, it was nothing new. You handed her the small cup of tea while bowing your head politely "Here you go, sir. I hope it is to your liking. I brewed it just a few minutes ago."

"Thank you." the answer you received was curt, but polite.

Before silence could cover the room, you started speaking again "May I ask your name, sir? I don't think you ever mentioned it" you spoke kindly with a smile on your face.

Mizu felt slightly conflicted. On the one hand, she didn't know you, you were just a prostitute in a brothel, and now you were asking her name? But, a part of her was interested. "Mizu. My name is Mizu." She spoke curtly and carefully, clearly still somewhat suspicious of you.

You smile turned brighter upon hearing her name "Thats a very beautiful name, Mizu. My name is [name]. Its a pleasure to finally meet you. I noticed you and your friend when you entered, but I didn't wish to bother you." You couldn't help but stare at her as you introduced yourself. Everything about her screamed confidence and strength.

Your gaze lingered at her eyes for a moment. They were absolutely beautiful, a striking blue that you could gaze at for hours.

Upon noticing your interest, Mizu frowned "Whatever insult comes next is better left unsaid. I've heard it before" the sudden harshness made you break out of your little trance, your eyes falling down onto the tray infront of you.

"Oh, no, I wasn't going to insult you, I promise! It's just that.." you trailed off "Uh, your eyes are absolutely beautiful"

That... wasn't what Mizu expected. At all. 'Beautiful'? That was a new one. To say you threw her off-guard would be an understatement. Usually she wouldn't believe that whoever complimented her eyes was being genuine. She'd argue it's just a tactic to insult her in some way by lying.

"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, I've just never seen eyes so clear. I see water in them, water is impossible to catch and can erode through even the toughest metals. It adapts to any weather and condition. And, I can understand what it's like to be regarded as something weird. As a monster" you touch your hair while speaking, eyes slightly solemn.

Mizu took in your words with shock in her eyes. Your little ramble sounded so sincere, and the way you were looking at her with the kindest, sweetest expression she'd ever seen anyone give her. It shook her to her core and made her even more inclined to believe your compliment.

"...Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me" she spoke quietly, almost as if waiting for a punchline to a cruel joke. But it never came. Your smile only brightened at her quiet, almost shy voice. You were happy to finally meet someone who could understand you on a level that many others couldn't. Being judged harshly for something neither one of you had a choice in.

"Ofcourse" you started speaking again while pouring her another cup of tea "I understand the fear. Believe me, Ive met my fair share of assholes here" you chuckle, making Mizu smile faintly "People here are just closed-minded. There is nothing wrong with us, sir." you gave her another one of your pretty smiles.

Mizu had to be honest, you were starting to grow on her a bit. Your soft voice and kind eyes were something she could definitely get used to. She looked at you, her eyes were softer than before "Yeah, I suppose you're right. People can really be cruel. It's difficult to not start to believe it yourself.."

You hummed understandingly "I suppose so. It's important to not give into the cruel words, though. And to find people that actually accept you" you looked right in her eyes again, this time your eyes held a look of adoration "You're always welcome here, sir"

Yeah, Mizu could get used to this.

#mizu x reader #fluff #blue eye samurai #mizu #ringo #x reader #xreader #blue eye samurai oneshot #bes #bes oneshot #mizu oneshot #mizu imagine #mizu blue eye samurai #bes x reader

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torialefay · 2 months

Note

17 with seungmin

Y/n and seungmin are a married and they act as strangers at a club to spice things up

🍷 I Want Your Lips🌪️

husband!seungmin x wife!reader (f) 🔞

✨ word count: 2.9k

✨ warnings: contains smut and crude language. minors dni

• It had been 3 years since you and Seungmin had gotten married.

• It was a beautiful ceremony- private, with only the people closest to you in attendance.

• Since then, things have been amazing. Doing life with Seungmin was a whirlwind of fun. But, like every long-term relationship, you eventually have to create the fun yourself.

• Which is why once the two of you were stuck in a rut, you took it upon yourself to bring up a new idea to Seungmin to help spice things up.

• It isn’t that you didn’t love him and the sex wasn’t great. You just wanted something… new.

• Which is why you were now situated on a bar stool by yourself at one of your favorite spots.

• This is where you had originally met Seungmin over 5 years ago and hit it off. What better way to feel connected again than to re-create the original fun night the two of you had?

• You looked around as you picked up your large glass of red wine, swirling it around. You weren’t sure when he’d show up, so you took your time, sitting patiently.

• The bartender had come to check on you and see if you needed a refill, to which you declined.

• “Just here for the wine, huh?” the bartender had asked with a wink.

• You could tell he was new. You’d never seen him before. And by the sheer brazenness in his voice, you could tell he was young too.

• “Haha, I guess. Just seeing where the night will take me,” you responded nonchalantly.

• “Oh really now? And where do you hope it takes you?”

• “Ahh, now that, I don’t know. Just enjoying some good wine for now is enough for me,” you smiled. You looked down the row of the bar. There were only a few other patrons on the very end. You silently hoped he wasn’t avoiding them on account of you.

• The bartender leaned down, coming closer to your face. “Well, I get off in 30 minutes. If you think the night could take you there,” he teased.

• You were a bit taken aback, but honestly, it felt nice to feel sexy like this. You didn’t get put together too often- you hadn’t been able to get out of the house like this for a couple of months. You had done your hair and makeup just the way Seungmin liked it- dark and smoldering. You made sure to put on one of your tightest dresses, which made sure you were completely covered, but your silhouette was perfectly outlined. You couldn’t exactly blame this guy for thinking you were up to something, heading to the bar alone.

• In that same moment, Seungmin came by to sit on the barstool next to you.

• “Mm-mm,” he cleared his throat, obviously trying to break up whatever conversation was going on between you and the bartender.

• The bartender just turned his head to the side, not bothering to leave from in front of your face.

• “Just one minute sir,” he replied back, sounding half-annoyed.

• “Like I was saying, I’ll be off soon. And between you and me, I know a better place to get wine than this place,” he smiled, sounding confident in himself.

• “Yeah, haha, I don’t really know about that… I guess I’ll-“ you didn’t really know how to respond, but luckily Seungmin cut you off.

• He brought his face down to where both of yours were resting, inserting himself into the conversation. “I’ll take an Old Fashioned,” he said, threateningly.

• The bartender lifted himself up, rolling his eyes. “Do you want to start a tab?”

• Seungmin shook his head ‘no.’

• The bar tender didn’t say anything more, just walked off a few feet to grab a glass.

• You let out a little giggle, not knowing if you should start talking to Seungmin right away.

• You swirled your wine around your glass agin, before taking a big swig. You decided to ignore him for a bit just to build the tension between you two.

• You looked around the bar, around the rest of the building, anywhere but at him. You knew it was driving him nuts, you looking all pretty just for him.

• “So… come here often?” You heard Seungmin blurt out.

• ‘So cheesy,’ you thought, a small smile forming on your face. You quickly hid it though, wanting to remain serious.

• “Ahh not too much. Just trying something different. Needed to get out,” you teased. “You?”

• “Not really… but then again, I don’t usually meet pretty girls like you when I come here,” he winked.

• You smiled again, this time not afraid, before taking the last sip of your wine.

• “Does that line usually work?” You laughed.

• “I’m not sure. You tell me. It’s the first time I’ve used it,” he scooted his bar stool closer to yours.

• “It might be working…. Tell me more about yourself,” you said giggling, leaning your body into him.

• Before he could respond, the bartender catapulted back, drink in hand. “Old Fashioned,” he slammed the drink down in front of Seungmin.

• “And now…” the bartender focused his attention back to you. “Where were we?” He smiled down at you. “How about a drink on the house? My treat.”

• “She’ll take another glass of wine,” Seungmin stared him down. The anger in his voice was evident. “And it’s on me,” he threatened the man.

• The bartender let out a huff and stepped back. “Whatever man,” he said, like he was giving up.

• “I hope that’s okay with you?” Seungmin asked, flirting.

• “Mmm, you know just what a girl likes.”

• “Yeah? I want to know more about what you like.”

• “Well…” you turned into him, letting the wine take over. You placed your hand on his thigh. “For one, I like guys who look like you.”

• “Mm… What else?”

• “I like guys who sound like you,” you giggled.

• “Oh really?”

• You began to lean in closer, teasing his limits. “I like guys who smell like you.”

• You brought your mouth next to his ear. “I like guys who look like they want me as badly as you do.”

• Seungmin cracked a small smile. He loved when you got like this. “Well if that’s the case, how about when we finish these drinks, you let me take you home and test that theory.”

• In that moment, the bartender came back, setting the glass of wine in front of you without looking or saying a word.

• “I’ll think about it,” you winked, taking a new sip of the sweet red.

• You and Seungmin conversed for about 30 minutes, throwing flirty remarks at each other and trying your best to keep up the act. One more glass of wine in and you were feeling great. Your husband— sorry, your “new friend”, just kept growing more and more attractive. You let yourself stare at his beautiful pump lips as he talked, not caring if he noticed. In fact, you wanted him to notice.

• “My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he said teasingly.

• “Yeah well…” you leaned in as close to him as you could, “right now, I want your lips.”

• He leaned himself into you as well, bringing his mouth next to yours. All you wanted in that moment was for him to kiss you.

• Instead, he let out a low whisper. “Follow me.”

• He held his hand out for you to grab onto as you both slid off of the bar stools. You held his hand as he walked in front of you through the main room of the building. It was loud around you, and quite a few people had made their way in, so you clung tight to Seungmin to make sure you weren’t left behind.

• He led you all the way to the other side of the room and down a hallway. Finally, you saw a sign for the restroom.

• But not just any restroom. It says it was for staff.

• “I don’t think we can-“ you tried to warn before Seungmin cut you off.

• “Shh shh, it’s fine,” he winked and held onto the door handle, opening it and stepping inside, pulling you along.

• Before you knew it, your whole body was yanked inside of the room, door slammed and locked behind you, with you now pinned against the wall.

• “You’ve got to stop flirting with me like that,” Seungmin looked down at you while breathing heavily.

• “Like what?” You smiled and cocked your head to the side, moving your hands to lock behind his head and invite him into you.

• “Ughh,” he groaned, half-annoyed but half-smiling. He leaned in and finally let his lips connect to yours. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss, his mouth completely devouring yours within the first 20 seconds. He let his tongue freely roam your mouth as he felt yours try to swirl around as well. Before you knew it, both of you were having a competition to see who would be able to take control of the kiss, but eventually after pinning you down hard to the wall, Seungmin asserted himself into the role.

• He was biting your bottom lip relentlessly when you felt his hard on press against you, slowly at first. As he started to run his hands along your body, his bulge grew even bigger as he began to rut his hips into you. You let out a soft moan from the way he felt, so good and hard for you, holding you down to the wall with all of his strength.

• “We’ve got to hurry,” he growled. “Come here,” he said, not actually giving you time to walk. Instead, he more so just threw your body where he wanted it to be. Before you knew it, he had you bent over in front of the sink, dress pulled up, underwear down, with both hands behind your back so he could hold onto them.

• Seungmin quickly rubbed his tip along your lining, letting him get even more worked up from the wetness, before slowly but steadily pushing himself inside of you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him bottom out inside of you, letting out a deep breath.

• Seungmin was big, and obviously you knew that. But when he fucked you from behind, he always felt 10x bigger. You savored the stretch you felt.

• He held tight to your hands, which he had strategically placed behind your back so that you were slightly arched for him as he fucked into you. He began picking up speed steadily. Grunting lowly with every push, he knew exactly what he was doing to you. By your face’s reactions in the mirror, he knew he was hitting the right spot.

• As his strokes got faster and faster, you started to curse under your breath. “Fuck, that feels so fucking good.”

• “Yeah? Is that what you like?” He said before pulling your body further back and starting to ram himself in as fast as he could. “You like it hard like this?” It sounded more like a growl coming out of him now. Something animalistic.

• You thought you were going to explode from the pressure and how good it felt. You felt your legs start to give out.

• “Mmm, yes,” you struggled to get out. “Just… just like that,” you panted, before letting out a small scream when he bucked his hips in particularly hard.

• It felt too good. You thought your head was going to start spinning.

• Suddenly, you heard a loud knock on the door.

• ‘Fuck,’ you thought, waiting for Seungmin to stop. But to your surprise, he didn’t. He didn’t let it phase him for one second. The look on his face of pure lust hadn’t been altered in the slightest.

• “Just a second!” he replied.

• In the same second, he hooked his arm around your throat and pulled you towards him to rest your back into his chest as he fucked you. He used his other hand to cover your mouth in case any other noises came out that weren’t supposed to.

• You watched Seungmin from the mirror and how his brows furrowed in as he kept bucking himself into you, seeing that he was feeling better and better with every stroke. You let out another moan as he hit the right spot even deeper, making him smush his hand into your face even more. But you didn’t care. You loved any pressure you could get.

• You were close. The excitement of the situation only added to it. You focused on the feeling of Seungmin stretching you out over and over. Not backing down. You savored the feeling of his arm around your neck, and how you were almost gasping for air. How his hand tasted while it was spayed across your mouth. And god did it feel so fucking good.

• “I’m going to cum,” he whispered lowly into your ear, letting out a moan himself. It sounded almost like a threat. “I feel you twitching around me,” he laughed. “Cum for me. Cum for me right now,” he smiled, now drilling back to back tough shots into you. You lost your breath entirely from it. You felt yourself start to tingle. Taking slow, steady breaths, you braced yourself.

• Suddenly, Seungmin secured his arm around your throat even tighter, choking you until you were red, then almost blue.

• His strokes now couldn’t get any faster. You felt your legs start to shake. “We have a crowd out there. I said cum for me. Right.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Now.” Thrust.

• With that, you felt Seungmin throb inside of you and let out a loud moan, not being able to quiet himself. You let the warmth inside wash over you as you began to convulse uncontrollably around him, making your legs want to instinctively close. Seungmin held you up, fucking into you until you could ride out your high.

• When he could tell that both of you had had enough, Seungmin slowed down and gradually pulled out of you, straightening himself up, and helping you tug your dress down as well.

• “Okay quick, act like you’re sick,” he whispered to you as he flushed the toilet and went to open the door.

• On the other side was the bartender you’d had previously, propping himself up against the wall.

• “Sorry, she’s not feeling well,” Seungmin said, making full eye contact with the man, while trying to lead you back out to the main area.

• “What a shame,” he replied before stopping you in front of him. “Why don’t you let me take care of you sweetheart?” He smiled as he eyed you up and down. “I’ll be good to you. I promise.”

• “She’s good,” Seungmin said, getting in his face to separate him from you.

• “I think she can speak for herself,” he said, brushing Seungmin off and going to reach for your hand.

• As he reached his arm out, Seungmin smacked it away with brutal force. “I said,” Seungmin stared into him, “she’s. good.”

• Seungmin grabbed your hand and swiftly guided you behind him so you could pass by the bartender, while still being behind him the whole time.

• “Woah dude,” the bartender started, not willing to back down now. “Do we have a problem?”

• “Yeah. Don’t touch my fucking wife.” Seungmin was red now. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears.

• “Your wife?” The bartender laughed. “We were hitting it off pretty well until you showed up, buddy…” He moved his eyes from Seungmin to now be on your face. “And between you and me, I think you’d have a much better time if you came with me, sweetheart,” he winked, taking a step to get closer to you.

• Seungmin instinctively reached his hand backward before swinging it up right into the side of the bartender’s jaw, knowing his face the opposite direction. The man turned just a little bit as he was taking in the punch.

• Without missing a beat, Seungmin swiftly grabbed your hand and darted off into the main room of the bar and out the front entrance. He held onto you for dear life, basically pulling you with him to flee the scene. It was raining out, and the two of you were getting drenched. But you didn’t care, you just wanted to make it back… without anyone getting arrested.

• As soon as you arrived to the car, you both looked back, but didn’t see anyone behind you. You started cackling and Seungmin quickly followed.

• “I can’t believe you did that,” you continued to laugh, hugging into Seungmin as the rain hit your face.

• “I can’t believe I did that either,” he grinned, taking you into a big hug, trying to block you from some of the rain.

• “My knight in shining armor,” you leaned your head up to give him a quick kiss.

• He rolled his eyes. “What kind of knight in shining armor fucks you in a bar’s staff restroom?”

• You looked at him teasingly, giving a little wink. “I don’t know, but mine does.”

—————————————————————————————

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emjayewrites · 3 months

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Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic) (3/?)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @nikki01234 @yeea-nah @sirlew44 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @marzzrambles @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @mitruscity @burberryfilms @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @galatially @jasmindaughteroftheworld @laptiteantillaise

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 3: Nowhere to Hide, Baby

Flashback to October 2018, Manhattan

The dim lights of the bar at SoHo House illuminated the room, casting an amber glow onto every surface, and Lewis couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement coursing through his veins. This year marked a turning point in his racing career, he was on the precipice of winning his fifth World Driver's Championship, and he was determined to savor every moment of it.

Seated at the sleek wooden bar, Lewis tapped his fingers aimlessly against the smooth surface, replaying the day's events in his head. From seeing his face plastered across Times Square to back-to-back interviews, it had been a long day full of press obligations. But despite his exhaustion, he couldn't shake off the adrenaline coursing through him for this week's race in Austin, Texas.

And then, amidst the chatter and clinking of glasses, Lewis's gaze landed on her. She stood among her coworkers, her vibrant red midi dress catching his eye like a beacon in the dark. Her mischievous laughter and sparkling eyes drew him in, captivating him completely. The noise of the bar faded into the background as he focused solely on this enchanting woman before him.

His eyes scanned her body hungrily, appreciating every curve and how the color of her dress complemented her deep skin tone. Lewis was known for his love of women, some would say too much as rumors swirled about his revolving door of relationships. But after an eight-year-long relationship, what else was a man to do? His most recent "flavor of the month" was rapper Nicki Minaj - he enjoyed her bold personality and unapologetic confidence, but he knew she wasn't wifey material. They were just casual, so nothing really mattered anyway.

Driven by an irresistible force, Lewis found himself standing up from his seat and striding confidently towards her. As he closed the distance between them, a symphony of emotions stirred within him - excitement, nerves, and vulnerability. He had conquered countless racetracks, but this was uncharted territory.

With each step, Lewis exuded swagger and cockiness. When he reached her side, interrupting her conversation with friends, he mustered all the confidence he had left and extended his hand towards her.

"I'm Lewis," he introduced himself with a charming grin. He watched as her big, brown eyes skimmed over his hand before meeting his gaze. She had an inscrutable expression on her stunning face, but he knew that his usual dazzling smile and flirty batting of eyelashes could make any woman melt at his feet. So surely, she wouldn't be any different, right?

"I couldn't give any fucks," she declared boldly before taking a long sip of her martini. "Isn't it rude to barge into someone's conversation?"

Well damn, excuse me, he thought, taken aback by her brazenness.

He nodded slowly, dropping his hand at his side and biting the inside of his cheek. For the first time in a while, he had met someone who wasn't swayed by his charm. And yet, there was something about her that made him crave her attention and approval. She maintained an air of nonchalance as their eyes locked in a silent standoff.

"My apologies," he responded with a playful smirk, breaking the tension. "Can we start over?"

She chuckled, surprised and intrigued by his audacity. On the other hand, her friends were wide-eyed and nudging her, probably trying to figure out who he was. But despite it all, Lewis couldn't help but admire her confidence and effortless grace. Placing a finger on her chin, she hummed for a moment as if considering his request.

Her voice was low and seductive as she replied, "Sure..." causing him to inwardly cheer. "But only if you buy me another drink."

"Deal," he said quickly, leaning against the bar beside her and signaling the bartender for another round of drinks. "What brings you here tonight?" He couldn't hide his curiosity, his genuine interest shining in his eyes.

She shrugged casually. "Just winding down after a long day at the office," she answered, finishing her martini with a satisfied sigh before setting the empty glass on the counter. "I don't usually frequent bars like this, but my coworkers insisted on celebrating a recent success."

Lewis nodded, mesmerized by the way her eyes danced with mischief when she spoke. He couldn't resist the urge to challenge her. "Well, I'm glad they did," he said smoothly,his thumb lightly caressing her exposed skin. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have had the chance to meet someone as beautiful as you."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his smooth talk. "You must be a real ladies' man," she remarked dryly.

Lewis chuckled. "I have my moments," he admitted with a smirk.

"I'll bet," she replied sarcastically. "So what do you do for a living?"

"I work with cars," Lewis responded casually, keeping his true job as a highly respected Formula One driver a secret, at least for now.

"Oh, a car guy," she said with a smirk of her own. "I guess that explains the cocky attitude."

Lewis couldn't help but laugh at her quick wit. He was intrigued by her and wanted to get to know her better. "What's your name?"

She glanced at him with a sly smile before answering, "Why don't you guess?"

"Hmm…" Lewis pretended to think for a moment before responding with a teasing tone. "Is it Angelina Jolie? Because you're definitely an angel."

She rolled her eyes playfully at his cheesy pick-up line but couldn't hide the small smile forming on her lips.

"Nope, not quite," she replied with a grin. "But nice try. My name is Aurora, but I go by Rorie."

"Rorie," he repeated in a deep voice. Although he was a cocky bastard, she couldn't deny that his British accent was incredibly sexy.

"Yeah," she said, glancing away to search for her friends. With his sexy voice and intense gaze, she felt herself melting, which was unusual because she never cracked under pressure. She quickly spotted her friends in a nearby booth and was about to gesture for them to come back over when he spoke again.

"A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman," he flirted, his hands leaving her forearm to lightly graze the side of her face – something that made her extremely uncomfortable.

"What the hell do you think you're doing—"

"Do you know what would make your name even more beautiful, Aurora?" he interrupted with a smug smile.

Amused, she rolled her eyes and asked, "What?"

"My last name attached to it."

Rorie's fame and influence were rapidly growing, captivating audiences all over the world. The media was obsessed with her, from interviewing her childhood friends to writing detailed pieces about her upbringing in Williamsport. It seemed like everyone couldn't get enough of her.

But with this level of attention came its own set of challenges for Rorie. She was constantly under a microscope, with every aspect of her life scrutinized and analyzed.

Despite their hectic schedules, Rorie and Lewis were determined to make their marriage and family work. However, with both of them immersed in their respective careers, worry crept into Rorie's mind.

Still, she couldn't contain her excitement as she awaited news from Yael about a potential partnership with Lancôme. After a successful meeting with the company, she eagerly waited for more details on the lucrative collaboration. Meanwhile, Lewis was preparing for his upcoming trip to England for the Silverstone race. He made sure to spend quality time with Rorie and Lyric before departing, knowing he would be away for some time.

As was their custom whenever he was home, Lewis and Rorie woke up early to go for a jog through the streets of Monaco. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden glow over the picturesque city. They ran side by side, taking in the beautiful views of the ocean and the luxurious yachts docked in the harbor. As they jogged, they talked about their plans for the day and caught up on each other's lives. Rorie couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness knowing that Lewis would soon be leaving for his race in England. She cherished these moments together and wished that they could spend more time as a family, but she also knew that Lewis's career was important to him and she didn't want to hold him back.

She supported him wholeheartedly, just as he did for her.

"You got it, move that ass!" Lewis cheered her on as they ran up a steep hill near their home. He playfully smacked her butt a few times, making her swat his hand away. "You always struggle with this hill, even though we've done it over a thousand times," he teased.

"Shut up," she replied, gasping for breath as she paused to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Staying in shape was important to her, but running up hills was her weakness. She placed her hands on her knees and bent over to catch her breath. Her braids, pulled back into a high ponytail, swung into her face.

"You okay, babe?" asked Lewis as he knelt beside her. Despite the sweat dripping down his face and darkening his gray muscle shirt, he still looked incredibly attractive. She couldn't help but give him a thorough once-over.

"I'm fine," she replied with a smirk. "But don't act like you're not enjoying the view as much as I am."

Lewis clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Here I am trying to check on you and you're already trying to flirt with me. Shameful." He leaned in for a quick kiss before helping her stand back up.

Rorie chuckled, the sound laced with a hint of seduction. "Well, baby," she began, her voice dropping to a sultry tone, "you're just too damn sexy for me not to try and flirt with you." She reached out and ran her fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at the nape of his neck, causing a shiver to ripple down his spine.

Lewis couldn't help but smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh really? And here I thought I was just being a concerned husband."

Rorie stepped closer, the heat between them palpable. "Concerned or not, I know what you're thinking," she whispered, her breath dancing across his lips. "You want me as much as I want you."

Unable to resist any longer, Lewis pulled her into a passionate kiss. Their lips melded together, their tongues dancing in harmony as their bodies pressed against each other. His hands trailed sensually along her curves.

Rorie moaned into his mouth, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through her body, and deepened the kiss, pressing herself even closer to him.

They had been married for four years, but their chemistry was still as intense and intoxicating as it was when they first met. Rorie couldn't help but feel grateful that she had found someone who not only loved and supported her but also lit a fire within her like no one else could.

As they reluctantly broke apart for air, Lewis rested his forehead against hers. "God, I love you," he breathed out.

"I love you too," Rorie replied with a smile.

"What the fuck?" Lewis's eyes flickered behind Rorie, causing her to turn around. "Look over there. Who is that?" Lewis's voice was tense as he pointed to a man near a parked car, taking photos of them.

Rorie tried to appear composed, and she squinted in an attempt to identify him, but all she could make out was a mass of unruly curls that seemed vaguely familiar. "I have no idea," she responded. "Maybe some strange paparazzo?"

"In our neighborhood, babe? When have you ever seen paparazzi? They shouldn't even be out here; it's illegal."

Lewis glanced back at the man, who was now walking away with his camera. "I don't like this," he muttered, pulling Rorie closer to him protectively.

"Me neither," Rorie agreed, her heart racing with unease. "Let's just go home and forget about it."

But as they made their way back to their house, Rorie couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. She kept looking over her shoulder nervously, but there was no sign of the paparazzi or anyone else.

Once they were safely inside their house, Lewis locked all the doors and windows before turning to Rorie with a concerned expression.

"Do you think someone is following us?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I don't know," Rorie replied with a shrug. "But let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe it was just a random guy trying to get some scandalous photos for money."

Lewis didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead, he pulled Rorie into a comforting hug.

"I'll always protect you, no matter what," he whispered into her ear.

Rorie smiled and snuggled closer to him. "I know you will."

But even as she tried to relax in his arms, her mind kept going back to the mysterious man with the camera. Who was he and why was he taking pictures of them? And more importantly, how did he even know where they lived?

Lewis seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and offered a solution. "I'll arrange for extra security at the house while I'm away."

"That would be great," she responded sincerely.

"Actually, why don't you and Lyric join me at Silverstone? It's a safe place, and my parents will also be there."

He gently held her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes with intensity. "And Kaiden and Willow will be there too. It's been too long since Lyric has seen his cousins."

Rorie rolled her eyes playfully. "It's only been two months."

"Exactly, that's too long."

Rorie hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. She trusted Lewis to keep her safe, and she didn't want to deprive Lyric of spending time with his cousins.

"Okay," she said finally. "We'll go."

Lewis grinned. "Thank you."

Rorie navigated through the busy crowds in the Silverstone paddock, where fans were eagerly anticipating the start of the British Grand Prix. The electric atmosphere was a testament to the prestige of this legendary track and its significance in the world of Formula One racing. For Lewis, Silverstone held special memories as the place where he had achieved some of his greatest victories, and she had no doubt he would continue to excel this weekend. This race was crucial for him - not just because it was his home Grand Prix, but also because he aimed to overtake Red Bull and claim P1.

She scanned the sea of helmets on the pit lane and felt a surge of pride as she spotted her husband's iconic helmet design, emblazoned with the number 44. She could see Lewis amidst the chaos, his muscled frame a stark contrast against the sea of mechanics, engineers, and crew members swarming around him. Despite the recent attention on their marriage, she knew that he would always be the same person she fell in love with - determined, passionate, and unwaveringly loyal.

"Mrs. Hamilton!" a lively voice with an Australian lilt chimed in singsong, causing her to shift her attention towards one of her other beloved drivers on the grid - Daniel Ricciardo; his toothy grin and bright brown eyes lighting up the room.

Rorie smiled and hugged him warmly. Her friendship with Daniel went beyond the racing world - they had bonded over their love for music and art, often exchanging playlists and art recommendations.

"How are you, Dan?" she asked as they pulled away from the embrace.

"Can't complain," he replied with a shrug. "How are you? How's my nephew?"

Rorie smiled at the mention of Lyric. "He's doing great, but he's getting to be a pain in my ass. He discovered the word 'no' last weekend so he's been using it quite often."

"Like father, like son," Daniel joked.

Rorie laughed and playfully swatted his arm. "Hey, Lewis is not that bad."

"Oh, I know," Daniel said with a smirk. "But it's always so much fun teasing you about it."

Rorie rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling at their banter. They chatted for a few more minutes before Lewis joined them, dressed in his racing suit and helmet in hand.

"Hey mate," Daniel greeted him with a pat on the back. "Feeling confident for your home race?"

Lewis grinned. "Always."

A swell of admiration coursed through Rorie as she observed her husband seamlessly interact with his fellow racers. Despite their fierce competition on the track, they all shared a deep bond off it - a quality she found endearing about the world of Formula One.

Lewis gave Rorie one last kiss before heading out onto the track for the race. The paparazzi went into a frenzy, their cameras flashing wildly to capture the moment between the famous race car driver and his stunning wife. Rorie then made her way to their private box overlooking the starting grid, where she would watch the race alongside Lewis's family. She greeted Lewis's father, Anthony, with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek before turning to his stepmother, Linda.

"Rorie dear, you look radiant," Linda gushed, grasping her hands in hers. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling great, thank you," Rorie replied with a smile. "Excited for the race."

Linda beamed. "I can't believe this is Lewis's home race. It feels like just yesterday he was just starting in karting."

Rorie nodded in agreement. "Time flies."

Their conversation was interrupted by the excited squeals of Kaiden and Willow as they ran up to them.

"Auntie Rorie!" Willow exclaimed, throwing herself into Rorie's arms for a hug.

Rorie chuckled and hugged her back tightly before ruffling Kaiden's hair.

"Hey there champ," she said with a wink.

Kaiden beamed up at her before running off to Lyric who was playing with his toy cars on the floor.

"You know they adore you," Linda commented with a smile as she watched the children play with Roscoe.

"I adore them too," Rorie replied sincerely.

Nicolas greeted his sister-in-law with a handshake, flashing a grin at her. "Hey sis," he said.

Rorie mirrored his gesture and replied, "Hey bro."

He chuckled. "You still remember our secret handshake, huh?"

"Of course," Rorie laughed. "It's one of those things you never forget."

Rorie settled into her seat next to Linda and Anthony, eagerly anticipating Lewis's race. The air was charged with excitement as the drivers revved their engines on the starting grid. As soon as the lights went out, they shot off down the track in a blur of speed and color.

"He's doing well so far," Anthony remarked, checking the live updates on his phone.

"Of course he is," Rorie replied proudly, her gaze fixed on Lewis's car as it weaved its way through the other racers.

The race was intense and nerve-wracking, but ultimately ended with Lewis securing a third-place finish. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as he crossed the finish line.

It wasn't the place everyone wanted for Lewis, especially at his home race, but at least he made podium. Rorie excused herself and made her way toward the pit lane, where the drivers were being interviewed by the media.

Amid the chaotic scene, Carmen, George's girlfriend, and Lily, Alex Albon's girlfriend, were engaged in conversation near the pit wall. When Rorie approached, Carmen's eyes lit up and she immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. Lily joined in as well, welcoming Rorie with a warm smile.

"Oh my gosh, it's been so long since we've seen you!" Carmen exclaimed with genuine excitement. "We have so much to catch up on!"

She hadn't seen Carmen and Lily in person since the Monaco Grand Prix.

"I know, it's been too long," Rorie replied, hugging them back. "How have you both been?"

"Busy as always," Lily replied with a laugh. "Alex has been training non-stop for this race."

Carmen nodded in agreement. "And George has been working hard too. It's been tough with all the changes in the regulations this season."

Rorie listened intently as they talked about their partners' racing careers and the challenges they faced in the sport.

"How about you?" Lily asked, turning to Rorie. "How's everything with Lewis going?"

Rorie smiled softly at the mention of Lewis. "Everything is great. He's doing well and I'm really proud of him."

"I can imagine," Carmen said with a smile. "I saw the pictures of you attending shows at Paris Fashion Week. You looked stunning."

"Thank you," Rorie responded modestly. "It was all my team. I was just wearing the clothes."

"Well, you were definitely wearing them, Ro," complimented Lily. "That dress for Jean Paul Gaultier is my personal fave."

The conversation then turned to their plans of meeting up for dinner and the possibility of planning a girls' trip. After saying goodbye to Carmen and Lily, Rorie went inside the Mercedes garage where Lewis was still busy debriefing with his engineers.

"Hey babe," Lewis greeted Rorie with a kiss on her cheek as soon as he saw her.

"Hey Pookie," Rorie replied with a grin. "You did amazing out there."

Lewis shrugged nonchalantly. "Could've done better."

Rorie rolled her eyes playfully at his competitive attitude before reminding him about their plans for the evening.

"Oh right, I almost forgot about dinner," Lewis said with a smile. "I'll be done in an hour or two then we can leave to get ready."

Tonight's occasion was not just any ordinary dinner; it was a pre-celebration of Lyric and Rorie's birthday next week with Lewis' family.

"Alright, sounds good."

As promised, an hour and a half later, Lewis emerged from the garage, ready to head back to their hotel.

The dinner was held at a fancy restaurant near Piccadilly Circus in London. As they made their way into the private dining room, Rorie was met with warm hugs and beaming smiles from Lewis' sisters Samantha and Nicola, as well as his mother, Carmen.

"Happy early birthday, babe!" Nicola exclaimed as she handed Rorie a beautifully wrapped package.

Rorie's face lit up with surprise and gratitude as she opened the gift to a personalized photo album filled with memories from their past vacations and family gatherings. Rorie flipped through the pages of the photo album, and she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. Every photo captured a special memory, from their trip to Greece where Lewis proposed to her to their recent family trip to Bali. She couldn't believe how much her life had changed since meeting Lewis.

"Thank you so much," Rorie said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"We had so much fun putting this together," Carmen replied with a smile. "It's not every day that my son meets someone as amazing as you."

Rorie's cheeks warmed at the compliment and hugged Carmen tightly. She was grateful to have such a supportive second family in Lewis' family.

The rest of the night was spent catching up and enjoying each other's company over delicious food and drinks.

Anthony and Linda surprised Lyric with an electric toddler car, causing Lewis to burst into laughter.

"Dad, what is this?" he exclaimed between chuckles as he watched his father place Lyric into the miniature car. "No way! Are you serious?"

Anthony's expression remained serious. "Why are you laughing? I'm just trying to get him ready," he replied, turning to his grandson. "A few more years and we'll have you racing on a track, Lyric."

Lyric babbled out a reply, his small hands fiddling with the steering wheel.

"He can barely talk and you've got my son driving for Merc?" Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval at his father. "What if he wants to be a footballer or something?"

"Pfft." Anthony gave him a dismissive wave, his fingers already moving deftly over the car's controller. "No way, he's going into the family business."

Rorie and Lewis exchanged a meaningful look, both knowing what the other was thinking. He wanted Lyric to have nothing to do with Formula One, and he knew how passionate his father could get. They had talked about it before, but Lewis was hesitant to bring it up with his father, especially in front of everyone, yet he realized that he had to have that conversation soon.

The low hum of the car's engine filled the air, distracting them both, and Lyric's little fingers held the wheel with determination as the vehicle started to move.

Lewis couldn't help but feel pride as he watched his son confidently sit in the car. "He's a natural," Lewis remarked with a smile.

"Of course, he is," Anthony interjected, "after all, he's a Hamilton."

Rorie and Lewis set off on a short getaway to Ibiza, basking in the warmth of the tropical sun with a group of friends. The island welcomed them with open arms, its crystal clear waters sparkling in the light. They spent their days lounging on a luxurious yacht and their nights engulfed in music, dancing, and laughter.

Amidst the joyful celebration, Rorie received the incredible news from Yael that Lancome had selected her as their newest brand ambassador. As if that wasn't enough, Bustle magazine also reached out for an exclusive interview with her.

But just when she thought things couldn't get any better, it was time for her 30th birthday bash. To celebrate this special milestone, Lewis organized a lavish party at a trendy rooftop bar in London. Rorie's close friends and family, including her mother and sisters, were all in attendance.

As the elevator doors opened to the rooftop bar, Rorie was greeted with an incredible view of the London skyline.

"Happy birthday, my love," Lewis whispered into her ear, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek as they entered the venue.

Rorie's smile stretched from ear to ear as she looked around the room. The party was adorned with an array of flowers and colorful balloons. As she mingled through the well-dressed crowd, Rorie was greeted with numerous hugs and congratulatory messages from her friends and family. She couldn't contain her happiness as she took in the beautiful setting - this was a night that would be etched in her memory forever.

Hailey Bieber approached Rorie with her shining eyes, a deep sense of happiness gleaming from her face. She hugged Rorie tightly, whispering, "Happy birthday, Rorie! You deserve all this success and happiness, and I'm so proud of you!"

Rorie stepped back from the hug, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. "Thank you, Hailey," she said with a grateful smile. "You've always been there for me, through thick and thin."

Hailey returned the smile, placing a hand on Rorie's shoulder. "That's what friends are for. And we will continue to support you every step of the way."

After enjoying a delicious meal and drinks, it was time for Lewis to give a speech. He stood up in front of their loved ones and spoke about their journey together – from maintaining a long-distance relationship to building a life together. Rorie couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion as Lewis openly expressed his love for her.

"And now," he concluded, "we stand here today celebrating Rorie's 30th birthday – a milestone that she will undoubtedly conquer with grace and style."

With a twinkle in his eye, Lewis came closer to Rorie, holding a small box wrapped in shiny silver paper. She eagerly took the box from him, her fingers tracing the delicate ribbon tied around it.

"What is it?" She asked, filled with excitement.

"Open it and find out," Lewis said with a grin.

Trembling with anticipation, Rorie untied the satin ribbon and slowly lifted the lid. Inside lay the keys to a brand-new G Wagon – something she had been dreaming of for months.

"Oh my god, Lewis!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "How did you manage this?"

He laughed, hugging her tightly. "Let's just say I have some connections."

Rorie pulled back to look at him in awe. "I can't believe this is real."

"It's all yours," Lewis said, kissing her forehead.

Rorie couldn't contain her happiness as she hugged him again. This truly was the best birthday ever. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers as Lewis directed Rorie to look over the railing, where her G-Wagon was parked with a big red bow on top.

"No fuckin' way! I love you so much, baby!"

Her husband chuckled. "I love you too."

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, dancing, and celebrating with loved ones. Rorie couldn't stop smiling as she took endless pictures with her new car, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

The party had ended, and Rorie and Lewis said their goodbyes to the guests before heading back to their hotel room. They slipped into bed together, the soft glow of the moon shining through the curtains. As they cuddled under the warm blankets, reflecting on their wonderful memories, their son Lyric slept peacefully in between them.

"I can't believe I'm thirty years old," Rorie whispered, gazing up at the ceiling.

"And you don't look a day over twenty-two," he commented with a mischievous grin.

Rorie turned to face him, caressing his cheek with her hand. "You know, you've given me the best gift today – not just the car, but your love and support throughout all these years. I feel so lucky to have you as my husband."

Lewis smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around her. "I will always support you and be by your side, no matter what."

He leaned in for a kiss, but Lyric stirred in his sleep. They both laughed softly before settling back down.

"I can't wait to see what the next 30 years hold for me," Rorie said dreamily.

Lewis intertwined their fingers together and placed them over Lyric's chest. "Whatever comes our way, I know we'll conquer it together."

Lewis stirred in his sleep, feeling a pleasurable sensation in his lower extremities. He was in a daze, barely conscious of what was happening until he slowly opened his eyes and lifted the comforter. To his surprise, he discovered Rorie with his penis in her mouth.

Rorie looked up at him with a mischievous grin, her lips swollen from her ministrations. "Good morning, baby," she purred before taking him back into her mouth.

Lewis moaned softly, his hands tangling in her hair as she worked her magic. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. This was definitely not how he expected to start his day, but he wasn't complaining one bit. He let himself fully wake up and enjoy the sensation of her warm mouth on him.

Rorie loved the way his hands gripped her hair as his hips bucked against her. She had always enjoyed sucking him off, but this morning felt different – more intense, more passionate.

A low groan escaped Lewis' lips as he came hard into Rorie's mouth. She eagerly swallowed every drop, her tongue teasing him until he was gasping for air.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed out, his body still tingling from the intense orgasm.

Rorie crawled up to kiss him, her lips tasting of him. Lewis couldn't help but pull her closer, their bodies pressing together as they kissed deeply.

"I don't think I've ever had such a good wake-up call," he chuckled against her lips.

Rorie grinned and nipped at his bottom lip. "I aim to please."

"I should have bought you that G-Wagon sooner," he teased. "Who knew that a car would turn you into a lil' freak? I'll get you anything you want if this is the consequence."

"Anything?" she asked curiously.

"Yes," he replied, determinedly.

"Then give me another baby," she surprised him with her request.

They had just celebrated Lyric's first birthday in Monaco with a small gathering of loved ones and friends a few days ago, and now she wanted to start trying for a second. Lewis didn't object; he would be overjoyed to see her pregnant again. With their son being taken care of by Nina back home while they were at the Hungarian Grand Prix this week, it was the perfect time for them to try for another child.

"Are you serious?" he asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

Rorie nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "I've been thinking about it for a while now, since Paris."

"I can't believe this," Lewis exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You've made me the happiest man in the world."

"Well, don't get too ahead of yourself," Rorie laughed. "It might take some time for us to get pregnant again."

"I don't care," Lewis said firmly. "I'll wait as long as I have to, especially since I can fuck you exactly how I want."

"And that entails?" she asked breathlessly, her body already trembling with desire.

"Bending you over every surface," he whispered, causing her to shiver at his words. "Filling you up so much that my cum leaks down your leg. Making you nice and sore, fucking that tight pussy to shreds."

His lips found the sweet spot on her throat and sucked gently, making Rorie moan. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second, the anticipation of what was to come almost unbearable.

"How long before you have to go to quali?" she managed to ask, her voice slightly shaky.

"I have an hour," he replied with a wide smile, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "Why? You want to go on a lil' ride of your own?"

Rorie couldn't help but giggle at his playful tone, despite the intense desire coursing through her veins. She nodded eagerly and let him lead her to straddle his hips, her knees digging into the soft mattress. His hands immediately went to grip her waist as she slowly lowered herself onto him, a moan escaping both their lips as they were fully connected.

Lewis leaned back against the headboard, his eyes locked on Rorie's as he lifted her up and down on his manhood. He wanted to savor every moment with his wife before they had to leave for qualifying and he ran his hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of skin that was exposed to him.

Gripping her hips tighter, he guided her movements as she rode him harder and faster. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through both of their bodies, their moans growing louder with each passing second.

"Fuck," Lewis cursed under his breath, his fingers digging into Rorie's hips as her walls tightened around him. "I love this pussy so much, baby."

"It's all yours, Sir," she moaned heavenwards as she met him thrust for thrust.

"Say that shit again, baby. Who's pussy is this?"

"Yours, Sir!" She leaned in closer, pressing her hands against Lewis' chest as she picked up speed.

He gave her a playful slap on her ass. "That's what I like to hear."

Rorie was lost in a sea of ecstasy, her mind consumed by the feeling of being utterly owned by her husband, as their bodies moved in perfect harmony, their breaths coming out in ragged gasps as they chased their release. Lewis could feel the familiar tightening in his balls and he knew he was about to come undone. He reached between them and rubbed circles on Rorie's clit, wanting to bring her over the edge with him.

"Oh god," she cried out as he hit just the right spot.

Lewis felt himself explode inside her, his body shaking uncontrollably as he came hard. Rorie followed suit seconds later, collapsing against his chest, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm they had just shared. She felt his heart beating rapidly against hers and couldn't help but smile at the thought that she was the cause of it.

Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before sliding out of her, causing a small whimper to escape Rorie's lips. They lay there in silence for a few moments, savoring the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"That was amazing," Rorie finally broke the silence, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"It always is with you," Lewis replied, running his fingers through her hair. "But we should probably get ready for qualifying."

Rorie sighed, not wanting to break the intimate bubble they were in but knowing that Lewis was right. He had an important race coming up and needed to focus.

They got up from bed and quickly got dressed, both of them still stealing glances at each other as they moved around the room. Rorie couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with her husband amidst his hectic racing schedule.

Rorie and Lewis strode onto the paddock together, causing a frenzy among fans and media alike. A stranger watched them closely from only a few feet away. For the past few weeks, he had been keeping a close eye on them, ever since a representative from The Sun called him with mysterious instructions to do so.

He answered his phone again, interrupting his watchful surveillance. "Hello?"

"Any updates?" the voice on the other end asked.

"No, I'm still digging," he replied, glancing back at Rorie and Lewis as they walked arm in arm towards the Mercedes garage.

"Well, keep me updated. We can't afford any mistakes this time, and try not to get caught. We're still cleaning up the mess from Monaco."

The stranger hung up and turned back towards the couple. He reached for his camera and discreetly took a snapshot of them before blending back into the bustling crowd.

TO BE CONTINUED.......

#sir lewis hamilton #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #social media au #private landing #lewis hamilton x rorie hamilton #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction

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nmyphomania · 6 months

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╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 19: Title Kink]

Summary: God, you couldn’t help yourself to not love how the way Sir sounds dripping off of your tongue.

Warning(s): F! Reader, use of ‘sir’, title kink, wall pinning, semi-public sex?, choking, thigh humping, not proofread

WC: 0.7k+

•𑁍•

Of course your husband who just so happened to be the firelord, who also just so happened to be commander in chief of all military units looked flawless in his freshly tailored uniform. It was sleek, withholding a tremendously detailed threading, orthodox colors in mascot for the familiar royal hues, and so on. His hair was completely strung down rather informally, most likely due to personal preference, Zuko always looked amazing but this. God, your eyes never wanted to tear away from the sight of him conversing with an admiral.

Unconsciously, your mind fixated on the title ‘Sir’, usually spoken with dignity, holding importance behind the word. It wasn’t inherently sexual, no way it’d be if he was simply giving out orders to various sea troops and it’s them showing respect with the formalities in return. Sure, receiving the title on the occasions when called for bestowed Zuko of his significance, would it make him hot against the front of his breeches…?

No?

Yet, when it fell loosely from her mouth, with said woman up against a wall, panties down in a bunch around her ankles and her bra barely covering concealing the spill of her breasts; it became vastly different to how he reacted to the name. At first, it’d hardly crossed his mind as her voice came out hoarse and breathy.

He busied his hands to pin her own palms above her head at his height, and she practically rode her tender pussy back and forth on his pant leg. She tugged her bottom lip to bite down on, restraining any obscene noises to fall from her lips into the interior of his private office. After all, she did have to keep well and quiet due to two advisors who were ordered to stay outside his office to answer any underlying questions during his closing hours.

“Stay quiet f’me okay? You don’t want anyone to catch us do you?”

He jerked his clothed thigh up to intensify the delicious friction up on your core. You couldn’t hold back another desperate plea, throat running dry as your body tensed up in an unexpected reaction.

“Yes, sir.”

He’s so close and the room grew hotter each passing second with the impromptu quickie, those very words that passed from your pair of soft lips didn’t even come into much thought as you were so drunk on humping yourself to completion on his knee. Zuko’s breath seemingly stopped altogether at the gravity of your whisper, his mind pondered at how could he ever find attraction to the petty title overused in his duties involving high importance.

Sending very blatant signals that caused his dick to visibly twitch, pulsing undeniably behind his fly. Eyelids retracting backward to reveal your low eyes filled to the brim with faux innocence, she grinded down needily with the movement of her rolling hips to allow the warmth pooling in the base of her stomach slowly add on from all of the sensations. They circled, kneading around her weeping clit to rub perfectly over the firm material of his pants, it drove the both of you to the peak of insanity.

Zuko hesitated ever so slightly, a smooth smile stretching over his lips, “Say…say that again.”

You were prompted in compliance from the sudden loss of his leg from between your burning thighs.

“Sir? D’you like it when I call you tha...”

Breaking down over to nuzzle deeply into your neck, the sound of him groaning from unfiltered want eased his body to push yours to rest completely over the surface of his office walls. One of his larger hands went to snake the frame of your porcelain neck, left knee moving to massage in more intricately leaving your words to ghost over your lips at the reconnection.

Trails of your own warm juices surged down alongside your inner thighs, whining ‘Sir’ after ‘Sir’ just to fuck with him. In all honesty, he was just about ready to bend you over his desk and give you a reason to call him that in a hell of a louder voice. But, he had to keep those ideas for next time you two can actually be alone.

“Why are you fucking like this?”

And to answer that question, he absolutely loved it when you called him ‘Sir’.

•𑁍•

Tags:

#kinktober 2023 #zuko x reader #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #fire lord zuko #zuko smut #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #atla #[𝐧𝐦𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚®]

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usernameforaboredcat · 7 months

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Black & Red (Shanks X F!Reader X Mihawk) SMUT

Anonymous request (I got chu)

Just a simple day at the beach drinking turns into something way more hot and steamy than expected.

A long fic, have fun babes

Warning ⚠️: age-gap, threesome, groping, double penetration, deep throating, maybe some others that I forgot idk its sex ya know the type of shit youre signing up for.

“Shaaaanks, come on! It’s too early to drink, we’ll be up all night again”.

“Don’t worry about it so much sweetheart! It’ll be fun!”.

That’s the last coherent conversation I remember before getting shit faced and passing out on a beach with Shanks. No matter how many times I tell myself ‘you gotta stop doing this, I don’t care how hot he is I can’t be drinking this much’ but do I ever listen? No of course not! Have you see him? That man is so hot and fine, all I can do is easily submit to anything he asks. I mean it's not the first time he's easily made me submit to something, which ended in a lot of hookups or alleyway deepthroating. Hehe...

I awaken from my slumber as I feel myself being shaken. “Wakey wakey sweetheart”. I hear an all too familiar and soothing voice. I groan and snuggle more into his chest. “Nooo. You made me drink and gave me a hangover”. I mumble. “Does it make you feel better knowing that I have one too?”. He asks, running his fingers through my hair.

“A little”.

I yawn as I walk back to the cove the crew was camping at, coming back from some private business time…I had to pee. I see the crew already partying and drinking again. Seriously? “Hey! (Y/n)!”. I look towards Shanks, seeing him drinking with an unfamiliar man with a large sword sitting next to him, a long coat and a large hat. “Have you ever heard of the 7 warlords?”. Shanks asks me, the man turning to look at me. “Uh yeah…I’ve heard of them…”. I answer nervously, I think I already know where this is going before he can even finish. “This is Mihawk! An old buddy of mine! He’s one of the warlords”. He explains, using his free hand to usher me over.

I walk over to the two men, Shanks pulling me over to sit on his lap. "Come on (Y/n), don't be shy now and say hi!". He tells me, as if I'm a child. Sir, I'm 20. I turn to look at the warlord, man is he an attractive man. "Hello". I greet him. "Hello, young lady". He greets back. I turn to look up at Shanks, tugging on his shirt to draw his attention to me. "So what's this about? Why are we partying again?". I ask him, tilting my head slightly. He smile and laughs. "Ya know that Luffy kid I told you about? He finally got his first wanted poster!". He answers happily.

I remember him talking about that Luffy kid. Shanks told me how he met him years ago, the dumb little kid who cut his cheek and ate the gum gum fruit. He isn't any younger than me, the more I think about that the more it kinda makes me feel weird. Still, I'd like to meet him one day.

"Huh, look at him". I mutter under my breath, but I know Shanks heard me. As if the conversation is forgotten about, Shanks now holding out a filled cup of booz to me. "Enough yappin! Take a sip, dear". He orders me. 'Uh, I really don't wanna drink'. I take the cup from him, taking a sip from it. "Atta girl". He coos, his hand now sitting on my hip, rubbing up and down with his thumb. I feel a shiver runs down my spine, the feeling of his hand running straight to my core. He knows exactly what he's doing, he knows how to get my body going.

'God, I hate him'.

My breath quickens as I feel a jolt run through my body, whimpers slipping through my lips no matter how hard I try to hide them. "Ssshhh, not so loud baby". Shanks whispers into my ear, his finger not stopping it's abuse on my clit. I throw my head back into his board shoulder. "Sh-Shanks, pleeeease~". I whimper out. "Hm? Please what? Need me to fuck you already?". He asks in a deep tone, his hot breath down my neck. "I-hhh I!". I stumble on my words, needing him to give me just a second to cum. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Shanks". I feel my body freeze, but Shanks doesn't stop. "Oh, hey Mihawk". He pulls his hand away, my legs giving out and I collapse to the forest floor.

"What's up? You leaving already?". Shanks asks the other man. "I was thinking that, yes". Mihawk confirms. "Oh come on, you just got here. Why not have a little fun with (Y/n) and I? I don't mind sharing that pretty face". He offers the man. 'HUH!?'. I turn my head behind me, looking over to the men. I look over to Mihawk, seeing that he's already looking at me dead in the eyes with a hungry look. "You're too open with sharing your toys, Shanks". He comments, taking his sword off his back and setting it against a nearby tree. The two men walk over to me, Mihawk standing in front of me as I feel Shanks crouch behind me. "You don't mind, do you sweetheart?". Shanks asks me, pulling me back so my back is against his hard chest, using his hand to rub my chin. "N-No". I stutter out nervously, looking up into Mihawks almost glowing eyes.

Shanks chuckles as his hand goes down to my shirt, pulling it up to expose my bare chest. "Good girl~". He hums into my ear, nuzzling into my neck. I shiver and shut my eyes as Shanks's cold hand goes down to my chest, groping and grabbing at my tit. I let out a soft moan, feeling him twist and play with my nipple. Shanks's head rises once again, nibbling on my ear lobe. "Come on baby, show the war lord what that mouth of yours can do". He orders. I hum with a nod, finally opening my eyes to look up at the warlord.

I break eye contact to see a growing bulge in his pants, only half hard. I grab the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down. His half hard shaft rises up slightly, hanging straight out from his body. I reach up and grab him by the base, Mihawk letting out a very quiet groan. I lean forward and close my lips over his tip, licking his tip. I look back up to look into Mihawks eyes, slowly moving my head back and forth as she stares down at me. "Oh don't try and ease me into, unless Shanks hasn’t taught you properly”. He comments in an unimpressive tone.

Shanks chuckles from behind me, his hand sneaking up to the back of my head. “She can take it, I have her working that throat of hers every night like the slut she is”. He responds, gripping my head and moving my head for me. I moan into Mohawks cock as Shanks moves my head for me, shoving me down on his cock more. I cough as I feel myself getting shoved deep down, feeling him deep down my throat. Shanks moves his hand away, but I keep the pace he set and continue to deep throat his cock. “That’s better”. Mihawk compliments. “Yeah, she’s a good girl, aren’t ya sweetheart”. Shanks chuckles, sliding his hand down my back. My body jolts when I feel Shanks’s hand back in my panties, running his finger through my wet folds.

My body shivers as I feel Shanks use a free finger to poke it in and out of my aching pussy, causing me to just need more friction. My body was already so close to being filled, but now we're back to square one. My body is tingling painfully, needing release finally. I start to moan painfully onto Mihawks cock, breathing through my nose quickens as tears build up in my eyes. I try to move my body, needing more than just the tip of Shanks's fingers inside me. "Shanks, your pet is getting restless". Mihawk tells the red head. Shanks chuckles. "I can tell, she's trying to suck my fingers in". He confirms. Mihawk then grips the back of my head aggressively, speeding up his pace and slamming down into my throat. "Don't worry dear, you can get fucked as much as you want once I'm finished". He tells me, his penis tip punching the back of my throat.

Shanks chuckles again. "Look at you, you'll get all the cock you want. I bet a whore like you is loving this". He whispers into my ear. "I can't wait to see you drenched with cum". He adds in a deeper tone, licking up my neck. "Take it, take Mihawks cum, take all the cum like I trained you to". I shut my eyes as tears spill from my eyes, struggling terribly to breath. My body feels like it's going to explode, ready to gush all over Shanks's hand. With a few twitches of his cock, Mihawk slams all the way down my throat his warm cum fills up my throat. I cough on the cum, gulping it down. Mihawk slowly pulls out his dick, sucking on the left to leave not a single drop. "Good slut". Shanks compliments. "You did train her good, I commend you that Shanks". Mihawk tells him. "Wait till you feel her pussy, perfection". Shanks respond.

Shanks pulls his hand away from me as I let out an annoyed whimper, pushing my body slightly to let my body fall to the ground on my hands and knees. I breath heavily as I try to catch my breath, my body shaking and loosing its mind from not be able to cum again. A cold hand on my ass makes me jump, I look lazily over my shoulder to see Mihawk kneeling behind me. I turn to look in front of me, looking up to see Shanks looking down at me with a smirk. He gently grabs my chin, rubbing it with his thumb as his smirk turns into a loving smile. "You're such a good girl, if I wasn't clingy I'd let people pay for them to fuck you. You're perfect mouth, pussy, ass, everything. Other men wish they could get one night with a goddess like you". He praises, his words going straight to my core. The mental image of getting fucked and covered in cum while Shanks watches, full bukaki as he just sits happily.

"Would you like that? Or would you rather some weak desperate men pay to watch me fuck you, show them how to really please a woman". He adds. That hit my core harder, Shanks cucking a guy. Some poor bastard watching Shanks fill and fuck my pussy full of cock and cum. I feel a warm tip rub against my folds, rubbing at my tip and poking at my hole. "Go ahead Mihawk, I wanna see the faces she makes when being filled by another man". He tells the other man. Then without warning, Mihawk easily slides his cock fully inside me. A whimpered moan escapes my lips, my legs shaking at the feeling of being filled finally. "Now isn't that a pretty face". Shanks points out, palming himself through his pants. "Sh-Shanks~". I whimper out, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I need...yoooooou". I moan out, craving more. I struggle to keep my body steady as Mihawk ruthlessly pounds into my body, slamming deep inside me. It feels weird to have another cock inside me, being so used to Shanks monster in his pants. Mihawks length is kind of refreshing, feeling his tip slamming into my curvix.

Shanks chuckles as he looks down at my wanting face, eyes begging for something from him. "You really have been a whore all along, being stuffed with cock and still needing more". He hums. He sits up more, pulling his pants down and his cock smashing me in the face. "Go on then, take the cock you so desperately need". He tells me. He slides his cock into my mouth, my body quickly jolting back and forth. I moan onto Shanks's cock, breathing rapidly through my nose. I can't breath, my body is shaking so much. 'FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM AND WE'VE JUST STARTED! FUCK BUT I NEED TO CUM!'. I give in, moaning loudly as my body finally releases as my body shakes violently. Mihawk hisses, pounding faster. "What's wrong buddy? She cum and squeeze ya?". Shanks asks him. "Indeed, she's trying to strangle me". He responds, causing Shanks to laugh.

"Props to you, I would have cum at her clenching like that". He chuckles. "You're just weak". Mihawk comments. I'm surprised I can still comprehend what they're saying, my whole body is weak and my head is fuzzy. I can't go on, cumming and still being fucked is driving my body crazy. I can tell that I'm finally giving out, because now I can't hear properly what the two are saying. Everything stops, feeling arms wrap under my legs and I get hoisted up with Shanks's cock popping out my mouth. I feel my back press against Mihawks chest, him holding me out spread legged. I see Shanks standing in front of me, he strokes my cheek loving me. "Sh-Shanks...". I pant out. He pulls his hand away, letting me lean my head against Mihawks shoulder.

My body jolts, fulling waking up at the feeling of Shanks sliding into my insides. I pant at the pain, reaching to grip hard onto Shanks shoulder. "That's it, you can take it". Shanks reassures me in a soft tone. My body relaxes, feeling the two men filling and stretching me out. My body felt so stuffed, I thought I was going to rip in half. The feeling didn't get any better when the two started to thrust in sync, thankfully going slow on me. Every breath was a loud moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Their pace speeds up, my mouth drooling from them massing up my insides. The feeling is indescribable, being fucked hard and stuffed to the brink of ripping. I felt like I was gonna pass out, I don't even know if I could cum again.

Their paces speed up, going full speed in and out my pussy. I cry and scream out my moans, digging my nails so hard against Shanks's shoulders that I wouldn't be surprised if there was blood. I could feel my freedom apporting, feeling the two older men twitching and their thrusts growing sloppy to out of sync. Next minute, Shanks lets out a groan as he finally cums. He sits and stays there panting, staying inside me. Soon enough, Mihawk cums again for a second time. The two pull out of me, Mihawk moving me to be laying in his arms. I feel like I'm on the verge of passing out, my brain fuzzy and hazy. A warm hand strokes my face softly, a soft kiss on my forehead. "Good job baby, you can rest". Shanks soft voice luls me to sleep, I finally pass out in Mihawks arms.

[bonus]

The two older men walk out the forest and back onto the beach, the other pirates noticing the passed out younger girl in Mihawks arms. "Is she okay?". Benn asks. "Did something happen?". Yasopp asks. Shanks waves them off. "Don't worry she's all fine, just a little shaken up". He reassures. "Why? Did something happen?". Benn asks. Mihawk chimes in. "Just some scary monster".

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x yn #one piece x you #one piece smut #one piece shanks #one piece shanks x reader #one piece shanks x reader smut #one piece mihawk #one piece mihawk x reader #one piece x reader smut #red haired shanks #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader smut #dracula mihawk #dracula mihawk x reader #dracula mihawk x reader smut

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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month

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Rapture (Alastor x Ex-Partner!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: ANGST.

Word Count: 3,000

Previous Part: Ritornello

Next Part: COMING SOON

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Rhapsody Master List

A/N I got a request a while ago to continue this so here is the next part!! Sorry for taking so long. When you guys request things,, it lets me get to them quicker which I appreciate (esp when its about my own projects) :)

It had been about a month since Alastor had joined the hotel staff and things were going smoothly. Well, as smoothly as they could go when trying to rehabilitate sinners but, some good things had occurred. The best of them had been the addition of their newest guest: Sir Pentious.

Y/n had been suspicious of him at first, as had Vaggie and Angel Dust. They had heard of him before, fought with him in the past according to Pentious himself. Y/n knew the demon had a desire in him, a want to become what they despised most. It became quickly evident that when he had joined the hotel, Pentious had not only given up his war machines but that dream of his as well.

Settling in to the new pattern had been... difficult. It was such a strange thing for Y/n to be around Alastor. There had been a time, a long time, when they had known his every affect, the essence of his being. That time was gone. He was not the many they had known just as they were not the demon he had known. However, there was something that lingered between them still -- the memory. It filled the silent spaces, consumed the air. It was large and complicated.

The first week or so after his arrival, Y/n had been a wreck. They didn't cry, they didn't yearn for him, but they still suffered. It was so hard to escape the old patterns. Each demon found themselves nearly doing things, saying things, experiencing things that belonged in the lives they had once led, not the ones they were involved in now.

Y/n had stopped missing Alastor when their relationship with Charlie had solidified. Suddenly, despite the fact that he was right before their very eyes, inhabiting the same places as they did for the first time in three decades, it was almost like they were loosing him all over again.

Slowly, the need to stop themselves faded. There was no longer the necessity of catching the words in their throats, of pinning their hands to their sides, of burying questions or requests in the recesses of their minds because the need, or habit perhaps is the better word, began to fade. New routines came into being. The world kept turning.

Still, there was the odd awkward silence. Still, Y/n felt a tingle in their spine, butterflies in their stomach, when they ended up alone together. Alastor just smiled through it all, like he always had.

The only real step Alastor had taken that showed any emotion at all towards his former lover was that he blocked any contact Y/n had with Husk and Nifty. Y/n was intent on interrogating them, seeing what sort of a master he was, learning their stories and working to free them from their contracts. Alastor must have sensed this, must have guessed, drawing on his own experience with them, that they would want to do something like that. Every time Y/n managed to come even close to a moment alone with one of them or the appropriate environment for a more personal, private conversation, he appeared and shut it down.

If Y/n were younger, they would have thought it was a game. Perhaps some part of them still saw the competition in it all but, if they did, Alastor couldn't tell. They had changed -- god had they changed -- but, so had he. Change was what time did to a person. He couldn't blame them.

Alastor spent a lot of time watching Y/n. He wasn't sure why, for what he was searching. It was a compulsion. He searched for the bits and pieces he remembered of them, tried to fill the gaps between who they were, and the person standing before him now.

There had been some things he was able to observe. Firstly, Y/n's diet had changed. While before they had eaten whatever was available, now they seemed only ever to eat raw meet. Alastor had absolutely no idea why and the only plausible reason he could come up with was simply that they liked it. Second: where Y/n used to spend hours composing, messing around with various instruments and musical genres, they were rarely found with even their lute in their hand nowadays. Alastor knew that a busier schedule provided by Charlie and the hotel could be at fault but, that answer was unsatisfying. Y/n loved music more than anything, more even, Alastor was almost certain, than they had loved him.

There were a handful of other small details, minor things about the way they held themselves, the musicality of their voice as they spoke. Then there was the biggest change, the cloud looming over his head. This was the way Charlie had changed them.

The days of Y/n running off, rushing away mid conversation, were gone. They regulated their emotions with much greater ease now, Alastor had even caught them doing breathing exercises a few times. There was a certain sense of freedom he hadn't seen them hold within themselves in a long time, not since they had first gotten together. While on the one hand he was happy for them, grateful beyond belief that Charlie had managed to help them regain that sense of themselves, it hurt on the other. It hurt so much because he had tried and this was the evidence that the failure had been his, not theirs. He had tried, he had given them his all, and it hadn't been enough but somehow, in some way, Charlie had been.

Charlie had been enough for Y/n. Charlie had... had... Alastor hadn't.

Something had happened. Alastor didn't know what because it had happened without him. If he had had the chance to talk to Y/n about the interim, the time they had spent apart, he would have. The thing was, Y/n didn't seem too keen on the idea of a private chat.

They were never rude to him. No, they always kept a friendly lilt to their voice, said hello to him when their paths crossed. Alastor could tell they weren't avoiding him either. He knew that if they were, he would never see them at all and he saw them all the time so it wasn't that. Still, every chance he had, every spare moment they shared just the two of them, Y/n found a way to quickly and kindly exit the conversation.

Alastor could force them to engage with him, he knew that, but that had never been their style. There was no precedence for it. He lied to himself, saying it was just that he knew how Y/n would react if he tried to capture them, to force them into any situation they didn't want to be in. He needed to be at the hotel and Y/n had the power to remove him from his position. He told himself that, again and again, while the real reason lurked under the surface.

The truth of the matter was: Alastor did not want to force them. He never wanted to force Y/n to do anything, whether physically or through mental manipulation. Even the consideration of such action felt like a betrayal of them, of himself in a way, of what they had.

What had they even had? Alastor had been in love, loved Y/n still in an odd and nostalgic sense but, he was also angry with them. The newfound regret of having failed them mingled with the decades old infestation of anger, of feeling like they had failed him. At the end of the day, they were the one who had left first. Alastor might have said the words, pulled the trigger, but they were the one that left. They had withdrawn from him long before that conversation on the hill. Y/n committed the murder, allowing the corpse to dry out in the sun, to be picked apart by birds and wild animals. Alastor had just buried the body. It had been the right thing to do, it had been necessary.

Slowly, the silences between them lost most of their tension, became a bit more comfortable. Slowly, they each learned to inhabit their new roles in one another's lives. There had been something and, yes, that something was gone, but there was a new something growing in its place. Alastor had thought the ground was barren. He was grateful anything grew at all.

They were gathered in the lobby, Y/n running a workshop on how to properly wrap presents. Alastor, like the rest of the hotel staff, had been invited to participate but, he had opted to watch. It was a skill he already had, one he had no use for. There was no need to learn what he already knew, but watching Angel, Husk, Pentious, and Nifty struggle was entertaining.

"Okay, well..." Y/n put a finger to their chin, gazing at the box Nifty was holding up to them with pride.

It was perfectly wrapped in white paper with a big black bow on top. Beside the bow, Nifty had drawn a detailed picture of a cemetery for all the bugs she had killed in the hotel thus far.

"You did a great job." Y/n finally settled, patting Nifty on the shoulder, "Well done."

Nifty squealed in glee, turning to present the box to Angel for him to examen. Angel had managed to get tangled up in his project and, realizing this, Nifty quickly dropped her own in order to help him. Witnessing this, Y/n smiled.

Alastor felt the place where his heart would have skipped a beat if things weren't so complicated. He felt the lack of an emotional reaction almost more deeply than if he had had one.

Just as Y/n moved to help Nifty untangle Angel, Charlie bolted into the room.

"Y/n! Y/n Y/n Y/n! I figured it out! I finally figured it out!"

Y/n turned to Charlie as they came to a stop before them, breathing heavily. Their brow was furrowed, their head tilted slightly to the side in confusion.

"Figured what out, Sunshine?"

"Your curse?" Charlie replied as if Y/n should have known.

Y/n tensed. Charlie didn't notice, but Alastor did. He knew them too well not to. It also did not escape him how actively they were avoiding looking at him.

"Y/n, if you get redeemed, wont it go away? Curses can't exist in Heaven, can they?"

His mind was absolutely reeling. What curse? In all the years he had known them, Y/n had never once mentioned a curse. The others gathered seemed equally as surprised and at a loss as he felt.

"I..."

At last Y/n looked at Alastor. Though only a few seconds had passed since Charlie's revelation, it had felt like an eternity. Charlie followed the path of their gaze, the smile falling from her face immedeatly.

"Fuck, wait, I... fuck. I'm so sorry, I-"

Y/n took a deep breath, turning back to Charlie with a smile fixed firmly upon their face.

"It's alright."

"No!" Charlie insisted, "I swear, I di-"

"No, Charlie, it's alright. I told you, I stopped looking for a cure years ago."

"But you cou-"

"I don't want a cure." Y/n shook their head, taking Charlies hands in theirs, "I want to stay here, at the hotel. With you."

Almost as soon as Y/n had spoken, Charlie's eyes filled with tears.

"I... I..." she stuttered for a moment before throwing herself into Y/n's chest, "Thank you!"

Y/n patted Charlie's back with a comfort that was unexpected to Alastor's eyes. The look on their face as they pulled Charlie from them, wiping the girls tears, was a sort of kindness Alastor had never seen.

A curse? What curse?

A million questions flooded through his mind as he continued to watch the pair.

"I have some business to deal with, are you okay with me leaving?"

Charlie sniffed, nodding her head slightly.

"Do you want to help finish the workshop? We're wrapping presents."

"You're wrapping p-pr-presents? That's so sweet!"

Charlie's tears started anew and Y/n chuckled, ruffling her hair comfortingly.

"You sure you're okay if I go?"

"Just go." Angel advised, getting up and walking over to Charlie, "we can handle this."

Y/n shot him a grateful smile before turning on their heel and walking up to Alastor. He looked down at them, his expression unreadable.

"I'm ready to talk." they stated.

Alastor nodded.

"Let's go."

----

When the shadows released them from their grasp, Y/n half expected them to be on the hill, their old haunt. It would have been fitting for Alastor to do something like that and he had every right to be so cruel in their mind. Instead, he had brought Y/n in to their studio. The anger radiated off him, the confusion, and still he had thought to offer them such a kindness.

Y/n, their back to Alastor, balled their hands into fists. They could feel the panic rising in their chest, the fear. They took a few deep breaths before turning to face him.

"Do you want to ask me anything? Or do you just want me to talk."

Alastor crossed his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised as he tapped one foot impatiently on the hardwood floor.

"Stupid question." Y/n nodded, "Right."

They took one final steadying, breath and then, they began to speak.

"So, curse. Um... fuck."

It wasn't that they hadn't thought about what they would say before. They had. They had played this moment out in their mind in a hundred different ways a hundred different times. Nothing had ever seemed right, felt right, gone right. Even if it had, they had no idea of where to begin now. The memory of all that practice had been ushered out long ago by the anxiety.

"Some overlords got mad at me and cursed me?" they said at last, their words coming out as more of a question than a definitive truth, "I..."

"Is this why you always left? Is this..." Alastor ran a hand through his hair, looking away, "is this what your secret was? The curse?"

Y/n nodded and Alastor sighed.

"I know you must be furious." Y/n began, trying to keep their voice steady, "Angry that I was so foolish as to allow-"

"That's not why I am angry, Y/n." Alastor cut in, "That's not why..." he shook his head, "I am angry because you didn't tell me."

The breath caught in Y/n's throat. They took half a step back.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Halfway between an accusation and a plea. He was begging them, he had only done that once before. Y/n hadn't been strong enough then, but they were now.

"Because it was my burden to carry, not yours."

"I carried it anyways! I knew something was wrong, for years! I just had no idea what, no... no... frame of reference. Why didn't you tell me!?"

"I... I..." there was no hiding the truth, Y/n looked away, "I was scared that you would leave."

Alastor watched them in disbeleif.

"And you left anyway." they finished.

"I left because you didn't tell me. We could have stuck together, figured it out. We could have..."

It was Y/n's turn to be angry now. They turned back to him, their eyes alive with fire.

"We could have what?! You could have what?!" the scoffed, "You think I don't know it was all my fault?! You think I don't... don't blame myself for everything?! Didn't know why you really left?! Didn't... didn't realize?! I fucking know that you left because I didn't tell you! I know I caused... that I..." they let out a frustrated little scream, their hands tangling into their hair, "I. Know."

"You could have told me then, why didn't you? Why didn't you stop me if you knew you could!?"

"Because I was scared!"

Their eyes began to grow dark, their skin shifting and writhing like there were bugs crawling beneath its surface. Seeming to notice this, Y/n closed their eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them once again.

"Is that the curse?"

"Part of it." they admitted, "If I don't stay calm, I don't get to stay... well, stay me."

The reality of the situation hit Alastor like a ton of bricks, like a moving car. He did his best to calm himself.

"Whats the rest of it?"

Y/n said nothing and so, he tried again.

"I could have helped."

"Helped how, Alastor?" they asked, their voice coming out tired and nearly desperate, "How?"

"I could have found a cure."

"There is none." Y/n shook their head, "Believe me. I can do things to stave it off, keep it at bay but, nothing will take this beast away from me."

"You could try being redeemed."

They raised a fist to their chest, holding it over their heart. A pained expression had taken over their face, their body curling slightly in on itself.

"I don't want to. Not anymore. It... this thing... it's a part of me now. Besides, I couldn't leave Charlie."

"She has lots of people who care about her, people to take care of her. I am certain she would be fine."

"No, you don't understand." Y/n shook their head, "I can't leave her. I know she'd be fine on her own. She is such a wonder, such an incredible person. I need her."

"I wanted you."

Y/n straightened up, their eyes meeting his as their hand fell back to their side. They stared at one another in silence.

"I am sorry."

Alastor had never expected to hear those words. Not from them, not from anybody. He wasn't worthy of apology.

"I am too."

----

NEXT PART -> coming soon

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