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scaredpigeons · 3 months

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More than you can chew. II: those damned flowers.

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Elirah (genshin impact OC) x 4ggravate (Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno & Tighnari)

Word count: 5.3k

WARNING: NSFW 18+ MDNI. This fic contains smut between literally all the characters, the only two who don’t really fuck is ‘Haitham and Cyno cuz they’re the only ones unaffected by the aphrodisiac lol. Dubcon only because of the aphrodisiac, but come on, they’d all fuck regardless, so it should be fiiine.

CW: aphrodisiacs, sex, oral sex, (m and f receiving) handjobs, pussyjob, Tighnari knots Elirah, creampies, talk of impregnating Eli, but it’s okay she’s on birth control cuz girl don’t play around like that, dirty talk, Alhaitham and Cyno banter (sexually charged banter) anal sex (Tighnari rec), haikaveh and Cynonari content, multiple orgasms, Tighnari bites Eli.

Authors Note: I figured I’d post this while y’all wait for the Neuvi smut. It’s coming along, but slowly. I had to take a break bc I run the risk of carpal tunnel at this point, so I gotta be careful lol. I know this isn’t x reader, but I’d really love it if y’all gave elirah some of your time, she means a lot to me. There’s plenty more where this came from, and im working on more smutty continuations of part 1 so keep an eye out! :)

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Hot. Everything was hot.

She gripped the edge of the reservoir, her vision darkening at the edges, fuzzy and strange.

A wave of pure, nauseating need pulsed through her. She groaned, doubling over herself.

“Eli!” Kaveh moved through the water towards her, resting a hand on the small of her back. “A-are you..?”

She moaned his name, the heat from his palm radiating through her clothes.

“Be careful, Kaveh,” Alhaitham said, still standing in the entrance, deathly still. “You might actually want to get out of the water, it affects women and Valuka Shuna more intensely than men.”

“I—“ Kaveh doubled over into himself a bit, clutching his abdomen while he instinctually moved closer to her. “All the more reason I shouldn’t leave them!”

Elirah turned, clutching to Kaveh’s front, pressing herself against him.

“Hot,” she whimpered into his chest. “It’s so hot.”

“H-how do you…” Kaveh groaned, holding her closer as she rubbed against him. “How do you know s-so much about… hah.”

Elirah couldn’t control herself, everything in her screamed Kaveh, Kaveh, Kaveh.

He was so warm, his skin felt so good. She ground her hips against him, seeking relief from the erection straining in his trousers.

“Coolielust lotus was an extremely popular aphrodisiac in ancient societies.” Alhaitham said, almost hesitant as he watched Elirah push herself into Kaveh further, eyeing the way his knee ran between her thighs as she ground herself down on it. “It came up within my studies quite often at the akademiya, and if you read some decent historical texts every once in a while I’m sure you’d know of it too…”

Kaveh’s hands found the plush of Elirah’s ass as he helped her grind into him, his eyes rolling back.

Cyno stepped forward as if he meant to reach out to Tighnari, who was still clutching the edge of the reservoir as if he would otherwise float away from it.

Alhaitham shot his arm out, blocking the smaller man from moving any closer.

“Don’t.” He said. “They’re not in their right minds, Cyno.”

“But…” the general Mahamatra looked back and forth between his lover and Alhaitham, eyes pleading.

Elirah whined, reaching out behind her at the forest watcher. “N-nari…”

Tighnari moved faster than he should’ve been able to in the water, his hands latching onto Elirah’s waist as he ground himself into her from behind, pushing her further into Kaveh and causing all three of them to let out the most obscene moans.

Tighnari’s teeth pulled at the high collar of Elirah’s bodysuit, and his mouth latched onto the soft skin on the side of her throat when it was exposed to him.

“N-Nari.” She moaned. “C-cure?” She was surprised she could push the words from her lips, let alone think them. All she wanted was for this aching heat to be over.

“Orgasms.” He growled into her skin. “So many fucking orgasms.”

She moaned again, throwing her head back onto his shoulder as he and Kaveh moved in tandem against her, grinding themselves desperately into her back and front.

Tighnari pushed her down further into Kavehs waiting thigh, moving her himself now as he ground against her ass.

“Ah!” Elirah squealed, a sudden and unexpected high falling over her senses. “I’m gonna—!”

“Cum.” Tighnari growled into her shoulder before licking his way up the side of her throat. “Cum all over him, ‘Lirah.”

And she did, it blossomed from her aching clit throughout her whole body, somehow soaking the crotch of her shorts even further, despite the sloshing water still surrounding them. Her legs buckled as she cried out, body going limp as both Kaveh and Tighnari pushed and pulled at her body for their own pleasures.

“This is…” Cyno shifted, hands coming to re-situate himself in the front of his shorts as his widened eyes watched his three friends writhe in the water below. “This is so wrong.”

Alhaitham wasn’t faring any better, but kept his mouth shut and his arms folded firmly across his chest. He was a grown man, a renowned scholar, and he prided himself on his impeccable self control.

Kaveh unzipped the front of Elirahs bodysuit, pulling her breasts free as he leaned down to pop a pert, rosy nipple into his mouth— moaning and clutching her further into him.

“Fuck…” Alhaitham groaned under his breath, feeling himself twitch against his thigh. It was unfortunate that the two people who tested his self control the most were two of the people in front of him, giving he and Cyno the show of a lifetime.

“Off.” Tighnari growled, pulling at Elirahs remaining clothes. “Off, now.”

Alhaitham watched with hesitant eyes as Tighnari and Kaveh worked to pull the back lacings of Elirahs corset before shucking it and her bodysuit down her body, throwing them on the bed of the water without a second thought.

Elirah pulled at her gloves, flinging them away as she pulled at Kaveh’s clothes.

“Need…” she gasped as Tighnari’s gloved hands pulled at her ribcage, growling posessively into the skin of her shoulder. “Need to touch.”

“Alhaitham…” Cyno said hesitantly. “I don’t know if Kaveh being in there with them is a good idea…”

Alhaitham struggled to pull his eyes away. “Why do you say that?”

“Tighnari… he can get possessive. I’ve only seen him act like this during his ruts… mating season can get… rough.”

Alhaithams brow furrowed as he watched Tighnari’s hands get rougher and more persistent, and the low growls in the back of the fox’s throat grew deeper and louder as Kaveh continued sucking and pulling on Elirahs breasts.

“Fuck.” Alhaitham cussed under his breath. “Fuck, fuck.”

He walked to the water's edge, holding his hand out to Kaveh.

“Come on, out you get,”

Kaveh whined, pulling himself closer to Eli with no regard for the way Tighnari growled, the way he glared at him.

“N-need,” Kaveh stuttered, pulling at the front of his pants.

“I’ll take care of you, Kaveh, but you need to get out before Tighnari ends up hurting you, or even Elirah.”

Alhaitham couldn’t tell if the prospect of him being the one to take care of Kaveh was what made the man so eager, or the possibility of he or Eli being hurt, but either way his eyes widened as he quickly slipped from Eli’s grasp and out of the water.

“He runs less of a risk of hurting her if there's no immediate threats to him, he should be…” Cyno trailed off as Alhaitham pulled a needy Kaveh from the water, who immediately jumped into the scribe's arms, locking himself to his lips and grinding incessantly where his legs wrapped around his waist.

His eyes fluttered back to the pool as Elirah whined, only to watch as Tighnari pushed her against the edge, bending her over before roughly pulling at the front of his shorts, pulling them down and entering her in one swift motion.

Alhaitham sat down, pulling Kaveh’s back to rest against his chest, facing the other two in the pool before them. He pulled at the architect's pants, freeing his leaking erection with firm hands.

Kaveh writhed in his grip, gasping, hands grabbing whatever part of Alhaitham he could.

“Shhh,” Alhaitham hushed him. “I’ll take care of you Kaveh, you’re fine.”

His moral compass was skewed now, watching Tighnari thrust roughly into Elirah, watching her face twist in pure relief and pleasure as she white knuckled the rocky waters edge.

Alhaitham kissed Kaveh’s neck, rough hand pulling at his cock as he brought his other hand to shove two fingers into Kavehs panting mouth.

“That’s good,” Alhaitham murmured in his ear. “Suck on my fingers, I’ve got you.”

Tighnari continued his rough pace, gloved hands gripping Elirahs pale skin as they both whined and cried out in the water.

Cyno pulled his eyes away from the two on the ground, creeping forward slowly towards the water.

Tighnari’s ears perked up, and he brought his teeth down onto the muscle connecting Elirahs neck and shoulder as he growled at Cyno.

She cried out, body shaking as another orgasm ripped through her, Tighnari’s pace never faltering.

“Nari, baby.” Cyno said, voice small and soothing. “I’m not gonna take her from you.”

“Mine.” Tighnari growled, hips rutting harder, deeper.

“Yours,” Cyno nodded. “Right Eli?”

Her eyes were glazed over, but she managed to grasp a hand around Tighnari’s where it rested on her hip, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Y-yours, Nari.” She moaned, eyes rolling back once more as the fox purred into her skin. “…’m all yours.”

Cyno cautiously moved and sat at the edge of the pool, his hand hesitantly reaching out before brushing along Tighnari’s ear, making the fox growl, then whine out as he realized who was touching him.

“Are you sure you wanna knot her, baby? You can always come out, I’ll take care of you.” Cyno said, slowly, without any pressure.

Tighnari shook his head aggressively, mouthing at the bite mark on Elirahs shoulder.

“No, no.” He whined low in his throat before it turned into a growl. “Gonna fill her up, give her my pups.”

Cyno turned to Alhaitham, who was mouthing at Kaveh’s earlobe, still stroking the blond's cock as he writhed against him.

Alhaitham must’ve been listening in over Kaveh’s whines. “She’s on birth control, it should be fine.” He murmured, eyes flitting between his hand stroking Kaveh and the scene before him.

Cyno nodded, and continued to brush his fingers along Tighnari’s ears.

“It’s gonna be a lot Elirah,” he said, though his eyes never left Tighnari, hoping to not spark up his possessive nature any more than it already was. “The first time taking a knot is… a lot. If you don’t think you can…”

“No, I want it!” She cried out, meeting Tighnari’s thrusts. “Want your pups ‘Nari, please!”

“Wet,” Tighnari breathed. “So wet, warm. Perfect to take my knot. Perfect for my pups. Perfect.”

Elirah had never felt so wet before, he was right. Slick seemed to pool from her in droves, coating his cock and dripping down their thighs as he pounded it into her, his thrusts losing rhythm.

“Baby, I’m gonna help her through it, okay?” Cyno asked cautiously.

“Take it,” Tighnari huffed, voice raising in pitch and hips stuttering. “Take it.”

Cyno cupped Elirahs face, thumbing the tears that started to form as Tighnari’s knot began to expand, and he pushed it through the tight ring of her entrance.

Elirah clamped down on him, cumming with him as the first spurts of his seed painted her warmth in white.

“Good, good girl.” Cyno cooed, wiping the saliva dribbling from her mouth. “Stay nice and still for him.”

Tighnari grinded himself against her, knot locking his cock and cum deep inside her, moaning and gasping at how her walls twitched and pulled at him with every slow spurt of cum shot within.

Kaveh keened, body vibrating as he watched with heavy lids.

“Look at him fill up our girl, Kaveh,” Alhaitham breathed. “Look at how pretty she looks while she cums.”

And he did, he watched her, and suddenly Alhaithams hands became too much, his body burned where it touched his, and the cord inside him snapped, cumming all over Alhaitham’s hand in pretty white ropes.

Alhaitham may have had some objections to getting involved in the recovery process before, but watching Cyno lean down to kiss Elirah sweetly on the lips before he pressed a kiss to Tighnari’s forehead only helped sway him in the opposite direction.

The quicker they can get this out of their systems, the better.

“More,” Kaveh whined in his grasp, cock still leaking and jumping in his hand. “Haitham… need more.”

Alhaitham looked to Cyno. “How long does that usually last?” He watched as Elirah continued to flinch, her body vibrating at Tighnari’s cock jumped with more spurts of cum every few moments.

“About 15 minutes, though sometimes longer.” Cyno eyed the pair in front of them. “It’s worse if he doesn’t relax.”

Alhaitham glared, suddenly feeling a spark of possession himself, wanting Elirah in his arms, wanting to be the one to take care of her. “Then make him relax.”

Cyno seemed like he wanted to protest, but saw the way Tighnari still rutted his hips, shoulders tense and mouth still latched onto Elirah’s shoulder.

He sighed, slipping into the water and moving behind Tighnari.

The fox growled as Cyno pushed his shorts further down his legs, reaching to rub soothing circles on his thighs.

Tighnari relaxed, but only enough to soothe the growl in the back of his throat.

Cyno dipped his fingers between Tighnari’s legs, coating them in the loose mixture of arousals soaking Tighnari’s pelvis and thighs.

He brought them back behind, circling a gentle finger on Tighnari’s rim, making the fox jump in pleasure.

“Shh, baby.” Cyno pressed himself closer. “Relax for me, I’ll take care of you.”

Elirah moaned shakily, the knot inside her deflating ever so slightly, only enough for a rush of cum to flow out the space created, but still not enough for it to come out completely.

“Won’t that just make it worse?” Alhaitham asked, attitude peaking through.

“Once his knot is formed, it automatically starts the come down process, and it takes a decent while to be able to pump back up, only able to do so after it’s completely come down.” Cyno said, though he was focused on his fingers tracing and prodding at Tighnari’s ass. “The more relaxed he is, the quicker it deflates, and he loves this, loves having his ass played with, don’t you, pup.”

Tighnari whines, squirming a bit but otherwise still holding tightly to Elirah.

“And he’s trained so well,” Cyno says, a bit condescending, not really speaking to Alhaitham anymore. “He knows to relax when I’m back here, otherwise I won’t be able to fit my cock in his pretty little hole.”

Tighnari’s knot loses more mass, and a large rush of thick, pearly cum comes flowing out of Elirah, before she clenches down, inadvertently pushing Tighnari the rest of the way out with a wince and a whine at the stretch.

His cock falls out, twitching and jumping as he watches his cum flow uncontrollably from Elirahs still clenching hole.

He whines, reaching to shove his cock back inside, to keep the rest of his seed from falling out, wasted in the water; but Cyno grabs his arms and pulls him back, flush against his chest.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts against Tighnari’s cheek. “You need to get out of this water, then we can keep going.”

Tighnari whined and thrashed, but otherwise let Cyno pull him back, his more submissive nature being pulled from him by the General.

“Alhaitham, come get her.” Cyno said, pulling Tighnari out of the water.

Elirah was still bent over the edge of the reservoir, the naturally smoothed stone rubbing deliciously against her aching nipples. She shook, feeling cum flow out of her still clenching hole, moaning at the warmth of it.

“Sit tight, beautiful,” Alhaitham whispered just low enough for Kaveh to hear. “I’ll be right back.”

Alhaitham waded into the water behind Elirah, soothing warm hands up her spine.

“How are you feeling?” He murmured, bringing a hand to cup some water before pouring it down the backs of her thighs, washing away the cum that had dripped down that far.

“H-hot,” she stuttered, shivering as his hands moved higher to wash her leaking core. “It’s a burning f-feeling… inside…” she cried out as his fingers prodded at her entrance, pulling at what was left of the fox’s cum from within her.

“Still?” He questioned. “Three wasn’t enough?”

She shook her head, pushing back into his fingers as he cleaned her out. “More,” she moaned.

Their attention snapped upwards as a low groan from Cyno rang throughout the cavern, and they watched as both Tighnari and Kaveh knelt at the general's feet, kissing and suckling at his jumping cock between them.

“I thought I told you to stay where you were, Kaveh?” Alhaitham huffed.

Cyno’s face burned a deep shade of red as he covered the lower half of it with his hands in shame.

“Tighnari just… a-and then he…” he groaned, watching the fox and the blond make out over the crown of him, their tongues swirling against one another while slurping up the obscene amount of pre leaking from the tip.

Alhaitham pulled Elirah from the water, laying his cloak out on the rock before putting her down on it.

“You seem to have that plenty under control, General,” Alhaitham quipped, a light smirk forming across his lips as he watched Cyno struggle to remain standing with the attention he was receiving. “I’ll be just a moment.”

He leaned down, pulling Elirah towards him by her hips before diving in between her legs to mouth at her core.

She cried out, pulling at his hair and writhing in his grasp as he licked and sucked at her clit, moaning slightly at the slick that was still pooling from her.

It didn’t particularly matter to him at the moment whether it was Tighnari’s, her own, or a mixture of both their fluids; all that really mattered to him in that moment was helping to ease the discomfort Elirah was feeling, and he knew the only way to do so was to fuck orgasm after orgasm out of her until the drug was out of her system.

“Haitham,” she breathed, chest heavy with the weight of her impending high. “H-how are you so… good…”

“I’m a quick learner, Elirah,” he murmured, slurping against her clit. “You knew this the other night when you let me crawl between your legs the first time.” His devious grin was infectious, and through the fog she threw her head back and smiled at the memory.

“And the second time,” he flicked his tongue against her in steady strokes now. “And the third.”

Her hands gripped his hair hard as she shattered in his mouth, back arching off the cloak covered stone as she came and came and came, seemingly never ending as he worked her through it.

“AH!” She squealed, kicking her feet where they rested on her shoulders. “T-too much!”

“Really?” He smirked, it was small and soaked in her juices. “Because to me, it’s never enough.” He whispered.

He continued to lick at her until the air pushed from her lungs in a dry squeal, and then he pulled away, admiring his handiwork.

Elirah’s exposed chest heaved with her breaths of recovery, still glistening with water, although he supposed it could be sweat as well, a common symptom of the drug was a rising body temperature.

He felt a pull in the pit of his stomach to lean down and lick it from the valley between her breasts, and almost succeeded in denying it, but she whined, staring at him through heavy lids as if she still wasn’t done.

“Fucking hells…” he cussed, leaning in to drag his tongue flat across her perspirating skin. She tasted sweet, delicate and floral, and he didn’t have the heart to think his way around why exactly she tasted so good. He just knew he enjoyed it, so Alhaitham allowed himself to give a couple more licks before he stopped.

“Fuck!” Cyno exclaimed, still dealing with Tighnari and Kaveh a few meters away.

Kaveh was pantsless now, pulling at his own cock while he mouthed at Tighnari’s jawline. The fox was jerking the General off like a madman, holding out his tongue, waiting and drooling for Cynos release.

The pair of them staring up at him like that must’ve been too much, because Cyno bit down on his knuckles and came hard, coating both Tighnari and Kaveh in long white ropes with every stutter of his hips.

Tighnari swallowed what he’d managed to catch in his mouth and leaned to lick the remaining mess from Kaveh’s face and chest. Kaveh keened, his hand stroking himself faster as Tighnari nibbled over his nipples, and Elirah shuddered beneath Alhaitham as they watched Tighnari bite over the marks already lingering there.

“You like watching him, don’t you?” Alhaitham whispered, sitting her up and putting her in his lap, just as he had with Kaveh moments earlier.

She whined, nodding and watching the blond shiver and pull at his own cock more aggressively.

“Cyno,” Kaveh begged. “Cyno, kiss me.”

The general smiled, a little more calm now that his orgasm had faded, and leaned down to do just that.

Kaveh moaned into his mouth, whining desperately as Tighnari continued to suck and nip at him, making more marks across his pretty chest.

Elirah shuddered again as she watched the moment where Cyno bit at Kaveh’s lower lip, and the blond cried out, his hips jumping as he spilled into his hand and along Tighnari’s lap, who purred lavishly at the feeling of it, his cock still hard and throbbing, knot fully deflated.

“Good boy, Kaveh.” Cyno petted his hair, running his fingers through it affectionately. “You did so good, but I think someone’s waiting for you.”

Cyno’s eyes trailed behind him, and Kaveh turned and watched as Alhaitham hoisted Elirahs knees up to her chest, exposing her glistening core to the cavern.

Kaveh nearly drooled as he scrambled over, brain foggy and cock still throbbing with need.

Cyno busied himself with ridding Tighnari of his clothes, bending him over in the pile to work his fingers back into his ass as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him.

Alhaitham hooked Elirah’s knees over his arms as he reached forward for Kaveh, grabbing his cock and dragging it through her folds, shivering at the way they both keened in his control.

“Please,” Kaveh pushed at her core, and Alhaitham let go of his cock in favor of grabbing his hips to still them.

“Do you think you deserve it?” Alhaitham teased, pushing and pulling at his hips, dragging his aching cock across Elirah, her juices only aiding in the slide.

“I didn’t take you for a sadist, Alhaitham.” Cyno grinned, thrusting a third finger into Tighnari and watching darkly as the fox shuddered and squealed.

“Really?” Alhaitham huffed, his own small grin forming once more. “Because I read you as a brat tamer from day one, yet yours seems to be rather spoiled.”

“What can I say?” Cyno sighed, pulling his fingers from Tighnari. The fox whined, and then mewled as the General pressed the blunt head of his cock against his well prepared entrance. “He behaves more when he’s kept well fed.”

Cyno pushes his cock into Tighnari in one stroke, and the fox cries out, eyes bulging in their sockets. The general sets a brutal pace right away, slamming into the forest watcher with reckless abandon.

Alhaithams eyes watch darkly for a moment before he returns to his torturing of the two in his lap. He pulls at Kaveh faster, effectively forcing what he’s heard called a ‘pussyjob’ onto the blond.

Elirah cries out in his hold, Kaveh’s blunt cockhead pressing against her clit, making it throb and building her next release with each stroke.

“You're gonna make her cum again, Kaveh. How kind of you,” Alhaitham breathed, teasing the both of them. He was sure Elirah could feel his erection straining against his pants, but he could honestly care less about it, watching the two of them writhe in his hold was gratifying enough for now.

Kaveh whined, and the slaps of skin and cries from Tighnari grew, pulling the blond’s attention away.

Alhaitham moved a hand to grab Kaveh’s chin, pulling his gaze back in front of him. “You’ll look at her when she cums, Kaveh. Don’t be rude,” he demanded.

“Ahh,” Kaveh groaned, watching the way his straining cock slid between her folds with sloppy, imprecise thrusts.

“I’m…” Elirah whined. “I’m gonna…!”

Alhaitham watched as she jerked in his hold, his grip on Kaveh’s hips getting tighter as he stroked the blond through Elirahs orgasm, watching as he shuddered and his cock twitched and swelled.

Just as Elirah’s hit her peak, bordering into overstimulation, he pulled Kaveh back and angled his hips just a bit lower, making him enter her in one fluid motion.

They both squealed, and Elirah shuddered with a dull internal orgasm, her body so sensitive from the external orgasm she just went through.

Alhaitham guided Kaveh’s hips to rock in and out of her, and the blond gasped as he too came upon entry, his straining cock jumping as he pumped her full of his seed.

“Good,” Alhaitham breathed. “Keep going.”

They both whined, long and strained, but Kaveh’s hips began to rock on their own, and Elirah’s whine turned into a groan as their shared juices frothed in a messy ring at the base of Kaveh’s cock.

Cyno continued battering poor Tighnari’s ass with powerful thrusts, and Alhaitham noticed the pool of cum on the pile of clothes beneath Tighnari’s knees, and his already deflating knot.

He mentally noted Cynos impressive stamina, though he didn’t really want to think more on why he did that.

Cyno pulled Tighnari upright by the hair, and pressed his chest to the foxes back as he continued his pace.

“I’ll make you cum so hard you won’t have a single drop of it left in your system, Nari.”

The general reached around and squeezed at the remaining knot from Tighnari’s second orgasm, making the archer cry out pitifully.

“I’ll milk you fucking dry and then carry you home when your legs refuse to carry you themselves.” Cyno growled.

Kaveh shuddered in Alhaithams hold once more, his hips picking up their pace.

“Oh?” Alhaitham gripped his hips harder, making the blond moan out. “You like hearing them, don’t you, Kaveh?”

Alhaitham grinned over the blond’s shoulder at Cyno, who smiled and nipped at Tighnari’s jawline from behind. “Hear that Nari? Our audience loves to hear how much of a slut you are for me.”

Elirah cried out as Kaveh’s cock jumped inside her, his hips stuttering as his pace grew more sloppy.

“Kaveh’s just weak for anyone who talks filthy in his presence.” Alhaitham teased. “Doesn’t even have to be directed at him and he’s weak in the knees, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” Kaveh nodded frantically, “p-please— ‘haitham.”

“Oh?” Alhaitham hummed, teasing him more. “I thought it was Cyno’s words you were enjoying. Why don’t you beg him some more?”

Cyno laughed, picked up Tighnari and walked them to lay him down beside Elirah, who was still folded in half in Alhaithams lap, legs still draped over his arms as she took Kaveh’s thrusts with weak yet satisfied moans.

Cyno pulled out of Tighnari, flipping him and laying him on his back on the rock, entering him with a smooth thrust once more. Tighnari mewled once more, reaching out and grabbing at Alhaithams thigh before his hand found Elirahs, squeezing it tightly as Cyno returned to his relentless pace.

“C-Cyno…” Kaveh whined, looking embarrassed to even be speaking his name, even though he’d been sucking off the General but moments ago.

Cyno continued his thrusts, keeping one hand on Tighnari’s hip but reaching the other out to tuck a strand of hair behind Kaveh’s ear.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this Kaveh, you know that?” Cyno murmurs.

A shiver racks through the architect, and he keens, hips sputtering into Elirah once more.

Alhaitham grins wide now—a rare sight—watching it all with rapt attention, loving the way Kaveh melts into his grip, hips keeping in rhythm with his pushing and pulling.

Tighnari continued to moan and clutch at Elirah’s hand as if his life depended on it. Cyno kept fucking him with deep, powerful strokes as he murmured filthy nothings at Kaveh.

Kaveh cried out one final time, his hips stilling as he filled Eli once more, the feeling driving her towards another peak for herself.

She writhed in Alhaitham’s grasp, weak cries pulled pitifully from her chest as she gushed. The sight of both her and Kaveh must’ve set Tighnari off, because he too cried out, a particularly deep thrust of Cyno’s causing him to spray a weak splattering of cum all over his pale chest. His knot swelled half heartedly, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he seemed to lose consciousness for a moment.

Cyno groaned as he watched it all happen, and with a final deep thrust inside his partner he climaxed. He tried to bite back his sounds, but the deeply satisfied moans were still audible even through clenched teeth.

Kaveh collapsed onto Elirah, who weakly groaned as his softening cock slipped from her and their combined fluids rushed out of her and down her skin. Alhaitham released his hold on her, and watched affectionately as they both relaxed, the tension easing from their bodies as well as it could while they were still naked on his lap and the cold rock.

“Does Tighnari still have that really quick carrier bird?” Alhaitham said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Cyno looked at him inquisitively, but nodded nonetheless.

Alhaitham nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I need to send a message.”

—

The moon was just peeking over the horizon as Aether found the cave. The message on Tighnari’s carrier bird was hastily written and contained just enough information to get him concerned enough to come right away.

He’d elected to leave Paimon behind at the inn, the letter seemed like some discretion was needed, and Paimon wasn’t exactly known for her closed mouth.

He ducked his way into the cave, following the sound of soft voices and a dull pink light to guide him.

The scene in front of him was… a lot, to say the least.

Kaveh laid flat on his back with his arms spread wide, shirtless in seemingly damp pants, his hair completely disheveled and stuck up in odd places.

Tighnari was curled up in a ball in the General Mahamatra’s lap, his shorts and undershirt clinging to his damp body as he shivered, yet seemed a lot more relaxed than Kaveh.

What really surprised him though, was the sight of Elirah being held bridal style in Alhaitham’s lap, her corset, gloves and boots piled neatly beside them as he wrapped her in his cloak, petting her hair and speaking in low tones to her. Though her eyes were closed, she had a delicate smile on her face, and Aether thought she looked rather peaceful.

Alhaitham noticed his presence at the mouth of the cavern, and nodded him over. Aether was surprised that he didn’t shove Elirah away in order to maintain their seemingly tumultuous relationship status from outsider eyes, but he supposed that something must have changed since the last time he saw them.

“You have the ability to use those ancient teleport waypoints, correct?” Alhaitham asked softly, as if not to wake Elirah. Aether initially thought she was just relaxing, but the steady rise and fall of her chest and slow heart rate were clear indicators that she was out cold.

“Yes, of course.” The traveler nodded.

“Can you, with the utmost discretion, get us to where we need to be? I’ll compensate you fairly in the morning, we just really need to get these three back to my house.”

Aether looked at the group again, and it wasn’t just Elirah who was asleep. Kaveh looked as though his life force had been drained from him, and his eyes rolled around as he stared up at the ceiling. Tighnari was out cold like Eli, purring softly in Cyno’s arms even as he shivered every few moments.

“Can I… can I ask what happened?” Aether blinked in the pale glow of the flowers, looking to Alhaitham for an explanation.

“You see those flowers?” Alhaitham pointed to the soft, glowing plants behind them.

“Don’t ever touch them. Ever. If they happen to get you with their pollen, you find one of us, or someone else you’d trust with your life and dignity, yes?”

Aether scrunched his brow, but nodded.

Alhaitham sighed. “I’ll explain more when we get to my house, but for now, we should really move.”

“Alright.” Aether moved to hoist Kaveh up. “Let’s get moving then.”

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bradshawssugarbaby · 6 months

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Career Day Crush - Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC

A/N: I was inspired to write this while prepping pictures of pilots for my class at work today and now, here we are, taking on two multipart fics at once.

pairing: Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC (can easily swap her name for a y/n situation)

warnings/content: Bob being awkward and cute, Hangman's son being just like Hangman, Hangman as a dad, secondhand embarrassment.

word count: 1.8k

“Alright, class, can we all thank Sadie’s dad for coming in to talk to us about being a firefighter? What an interesting career choice we could make!” You forced a smile as you politely clapped your hands for your guest speaker, the crowd of 7 year olds in front of you following suit, clapping and smiling as they chattered about how cool Sadie’s dad was for driving a fire truck.

You looked down at your agenda for the day and read the hastily handwritten list you’d prepared for yourself earlier that morning to see who, if anyone, would be joining your class next. You nodded your head as you read the name and smiled sweetly at little Boone in the front row of the room, laughing softly.

“Next, we’re going to hear from Boone’s dad, Lieutenant Seresin about what it takes to be a fighter pilot for the US Navy!” You said with a somewhat forced enthusiasm to your voice, tired of trying to be the hype man for each parent as they came in to share what they did for a living to their child’s friends and classmates. You smiled warmly as Boone’s father, Jake walked in, dressed fully in his flight suit, his helmet tucked under his arm for emphasis. You noticed a second man, similar in height to Jake, follow in behind him. This man had lighter hair, worn longer than Jake’s and combed back into a military approved style, wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a soft, shy smile as he waved to your class. His cobalt blue eyes were almost breathtaking as they wandered in your direction. As he met your gaze, he gave you a soft smile before folding his hands in front of him as he stood beside Jake.

“Hi guys!” Jake said with a friendly smile, waving to the group of eager faces watching him, “I’m Lieutenant Jake Seresin, and this, is Lieutenant Robert Floyd. We both fly in the US Navy, but we have two different jobs. I’m the pilot, so I actually fly the plane itself, but, my friend Lieutenant Floyd is what we call a Weapons Systems Officer, or WSO for short. He sits in the backseat of a two-seater plane and makes sure the lasers and missiles and all that fun stuff back there is working properly when we need it to.”

Lieutenant Floyd nodded his head in agreement as Jake spoke, before smiling at the children himself and beginning to talk.

“You might be wondering why we have names written on our helmets, these are called our callsigns, callsigns are how we talk to one another in the air when we need to. My callsign is Bob,” Lieutenant Floyd gestured to his helmet as he showed it to the glass, smiling proudly as the children ooh’ed and ahh’ed over it. Jake held up his own helmet as well, gesturing to the font splayed across the top.

“My callsign is Hangman, like the spelling game you guys might play in class sometimes!”, He explained enthusiastically.

You had to hand it to Jake, he had certainly captivated your students better than any other speaker of the day had. Maybe it was his charm and charisma, or the fact that his job was a little more unique than being a firefighter, or a teacher or a truck driver. You couldn’t figure out what it was, but something about him and his friend had completely gained control of your normally somewhat unruly group of children, certainly better than you could have done at this point in a Friday afternoon.

As the two men wrapped up their career day presentation for your class, fielding any and all questions your curious students had for them for the last thirty minutes, you couldn’t help but notice Lieutenant Floyd catching your eye, as if he was stealing shy glances over at you as he and Jake stood at the front of the room. When the bell rang to dismiss the children, Boone raced up to his dad and Lieutenant Floyd, giving them each a big hug.

“Dad, Uncle Bobby, that was great!” The little boy, a carbon copy of his father in terms of looks and determined, fiery attitude, said with a grin that nearly made his whole face vanish.

“Awesome, buddy, I’m glad we could come talk to you and your friends!” Jake smiled as he put his arms around the boy, ruffling his hair. Lieutenant Floyd knelt down to him and smiled giving him a hug as well.

“Any time, little guy!” he said with a smile.

You approached the two men and smiled, offering your hand out for them to shake, your way of showing thanks to them for taking time out of their Friday to come talk to your class. You smiled as Jake stood up to his feet, shaking your hand firmly as he returned the smile.

“Thank you so much for coming out today, both of you. It really means a lot to the kids. They really enjoyed it! The helmets were a good addition, they’ll be talking about those forever,” A laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head slightly, thinking about how many times you’ll hear about the fighter pilots and their helmets over the course of the next week or so.

“Anytime, Bob and I didn’t have anything going on today for training, so we were able to make the time to come visit! Plus that, I can’t miss an opportunity to be “Boone’s super cool dad” to a bunch of 7 year olds, right pal?” He let out a hearty chuckle as he ruffled Boone’s hair again.

Jake looked to Bob, who was now quietly standing behind Jake, a soft smile on his features as he waitied politely for the two of you to finish your conversation. Jake shook his head and laughed again, gesturing between you and Bob with a nod.

“Sorry, Bob, this is Boone’s teacher, he absolutely loves her to pieces, don’t ya, big guy?” Boone nodded his head, a big grin on his face as he looked between you and Bob, his tiny face seeming to take note of the way Bob was now looking at you.

“Uncle Bobby must like you too, Miss T, his cheeks got all red just now! Dad says that happens sometimes when you think a girl is pretty. D’ya think Miss T is pretty, Uncle Bobby?”

You and Bob exchanged uncomfortable laughs and awkward glances at one another before looking away. You knew Boone was just innocently speaking what he thought was true, but at that moment, you sort of wished the floorboards of the school would open up beneath your feet, the ground swallowing you whole so you could hide and shield your embarrassment. Jake looked down at his son and chuckled, breaking the awkwardly silent tension as Bob stole a glance towards the exit, looking as if he was contemplating whether or not he could just make a run for it and meet up with Jake and Boone later on.

“Bud, we can’t just say stuff like that, sometimes people don’t want other people to know if they find them pretty. Sometimes you gotta keep it a secret so they can tell that person themself, you know?”

“Oh, right, sorry Uncle Bobby, sorry Miss T,” Boone shrugged his shoulders, still not quite understanding why it had to be a secret if his uncle thought his teacher looked nice that day, but in the mind of a child, you supposed nothing about adult dating rituals made a whole ton of sense.

“C’mon bud, let’s get going, ok?” Jake put a hand on his son’s shoulder before giving you a friendly glance and departing the room, leaving Bob to his own devices. You could have sworn as you saw Jake leaving that he gave his friend a wink and a thumbs up, and if you hadn’t caught the mischievous grin on Boone’s face as father and son left together, you would have sworn that this wasn’t intentional.

A look of panic flashed across Bob’s features, shaking his head as he let out an awkward laugh, his hand resting on the back of his neck, scratching at his hairline as he shook his head, looking between the door and you.

“Sorry ‘bout Boone, he’s just like his dad, got a big mouth on that little guy, he’s lucky he’s cuter than Jake is, he can get away with it.”

“It’s ok, I’ve been told more awkward things by small children than hearing that their uncle might think I’m pretty,” You helped, trying to take away some of the tension between the two of you, “Jake didn’t properly introduce me either. My name’s Grace. Grace Taylor. Most people call me Gracie though.”

“Well, he did introduce me, but please, just call me Bob. I don’t even go by Lieutenant Floyd unless it’s a military event or something. Bob is just…more me. Nice to meet you, Gracie.”

He offered you his hand, shaking yours as they met in a handshake that was much more gentle and soft than the one exchanged between you and Jake moments earlier. Bob’s hand practically swallowed yours whole as he shook it, and you couldn’t help but wonder if part of the reason he was so gentle was that he feared he might hurt you if he shook too abruptly, like he simply wasn’t in tune with his own strength yet.

“I should probably get going, Jake’s my ride back to base, it’s a long walk if he leaves without me,” He chuckled before looking towards the door. His eyes landed back on you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but notice how deep a shade of blue they were. They were…indescribably blue. The olive green hue of his flight suit pulled out every hint of tan in his skin, making him appear even more sun-kissed than you imagined he’d look had he worn something else.

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to be left in a school on a Friday night, do you?” You smirked at him playfully as you leaned your behind against your desk as you faced him with your arms folded across your chest.

“It’s not ideal, especially with an 8am training tomorrow.”

Bob politely excused himself again and headed for the door before turning on the heel of his perfectly polished uniform shoe, a wide grin on his features as he pointed his finger in your direction.

“By the way, Boone was right. I do think you’re pretty, Gracie. I may have to come by to pick my honorary nephew up from school more often now.”

And with that, Bob was out the door, leaving you blushing like a schoolgirl with a little crush as you began cleaning up your classroom.

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northwest-cryptid · 16 days

Text

This may only be my opinion on the matter, and I know a few Natives myself who all have their own ideas about this. However; to me if you want to make a Native character, be they for a game, as an OC; whatever doesn't matter. All you need to do in order to make sure you're not being offensive? Just do like, the bare minimum research.

Step 1. Pick a location for your character.

If your character exists within some fantasy world or whatever then it can be a bit harder to pinpoint something like this. At this point skip to step 2.

If your character is of Earth, or is of our known universe (yes this includes sci fi settings), then trace their bloodline back to where they originally are from.

I say this because it will help you with step 2.

You need to know where, or at least roughly where your character is from.

Step 2. Pick a tribe from that location that makes sense for the character.

Again, even a basic level of research goes a long ways here, I know fanfic writers who would get put on a list looking up the ins and outs of some criminal shit just to accurately write a character, I know you have the ability to research shit so I trust you can do this here.

Figure out based on the location you picked for your character, what tribe they would reasonably be a part of. If you find that you'd rather have them in a specific tribe; perhaps one that's important to you or something; you can do Step 1 and Step 2 in reverse order.

The important thing here is that: If you have to make up a tribe, I'm going to understand you don't actually care about them being Native. If you have to give them a specific tribe but you don't bother to give that tribe the basic respect of knowing where they're from I am once again going to understand you just don't actually give two shits about Natives.

Okay so now that we have an understanding of what tribe our character is from, we can begin looking into that tribe's culture. This may be a bit difficult in some cases since not everything is going to just be out there on the internet, and you may also not have a fundamental understanding of the culture and how it's changed over the years. Guess what, that's fine! I'd rather see a character who's specifically said to be Lakota, and who knows about our deities and teachings even if they're the sort of thing most modern Natives don't believe in or care about. Accurate depiction of culture is not a stereotype!

Once we know what sort of things might be important to this character culturally, we can begin to weave small noticeable traits into them, or you can even make those traits a much larger part of the character. As a quick example, for my Vtuber's design I included not only the colors of the Four Directions but often depict them with a braid and use owl feathers as a sort of symbol of them. This all comes directly from the fact my Life Shield uses owl feathers to represent my family, includes the Four Directions, and I literally grew up with a braid and continue to grow out my hair as to have another; it's all part of the culture I was raised in, even if I amplified the importance of some aspects to sort of make them a trait for a character. Again, accuracy isn't a stereotype.

I also want to briefly mention that when you're naming your character I urge you to look up how people in the tribe are actually named, please don't just do the old "color + animal" thing or whatever and think it's fine. Just again, do the bare minimum research to figure out how people in that tribe are named and go from there. I once joked with my partner that "the only thing about the Natives in Twilight that's remotely accurate is that they have the most generic white American names"

If you want an actually pretty good example of what I'm talking about, look no further than Prey. No not the movie, no not the modern remake; but the game from like 2006.

Our main character here is a Native man named Tommy, or rather Domasi "Tommy" Tawodi and he's actually said to be Cherokee. Now you can say what you will about his spirit powers and such, I get it.

But from a sheer design perspective?

Yea that's not bad at all! Everything from the facial features to his name to his general aesthetic is spot on for the Cherokee I've met out at the reservation. This is what I mean when I say accurate depiction of a culture isn't some harmful stereotype.

I'd love to see more Natives in things, I'd love to see Native OCs; but I feel like people are so scared to make Natives a thing because doing so could be racist if you misrepresent us or something. Like okay let me tell you right now you're not gonna do it worse than people who have made millions off selling books and movies whether it's westerns that depict us all as uncivilized killers or whatever the hell was going on in twilight; you're gonna be fine so long as you TRY.

And yes it's actually as easy as a 3 step process, the same sort of thing you'd do for any character really.

I mean think about it, let's say I was some weeb who really wanted to make a Japanese character but I didn't want to do any research. I could make the mistake of putting them in these overly traditional outfits and settings and maybe at least some of the details would be accurate but overall it'd be pretty bad rep, or I could go the polar opposite direction and just make them look like they're some British street punk with their whole aesthetic being way off from the sort of actual street fashion of places like Tokyo; again misrepresenting a whole subculture there. Or maybe I could do what everyone does to Natives and deem them to be some fantasy race who must have super powers and make them into essentially just an anime character; obviously that would be some severely bad rep. All of which could be fixed if I just bothered to go "okay where do I want this person to be from? What sort of culture do people from there abide by in their day to day life? How could I reflect that in a character?"

Honestly that's just good practice for making any sort of character based on a real world group.

And going back to a point I stated in Step 1. If you want to include a Native character in a fantasy world where ya know, America doesn't exist and therefore we couldn't logically have Native Americans; pick a tribe and go off that. As long as it's accurate I don't believe it would be seen as disrespectful.

At the end of the day there will always be people who get up in arms about anything; like it's their job to twist anything into being racist. You will never make those people happy, don't bother trying.

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perotovar · 6 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 3) "self control"

moodboard by the lovely @hellishjoel, gif by me

pairing: frankie morales/enby!oc!river price (they/them) rating: 18+ (minors dni) chapter warnings: fingering, one (1) handjob, discussions of sexuality/gender (in an... interesting way), goth stereotypes abound, swearing, more cute shit word count: 3k dividers by @saradika beta: @scenaaario (ily adrienne ♥)

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

“What’s their name again?”

“River. I already told you, Benjamin,” Frankie chuckled, taking a drink from his beer.

“Right, sorry. I’ve just never met a non… what was it again?”

Frankie, Benny, Will, and Santiago were at their usual bar that night. It was in a different part of town than The Night Owl, with a completely different vibe, but it was cozy. The four of them had become regulars and knew the staff by name.

“Non-binary person,” Will said, shoving Benny on the shoulder. “Are you listening at all?”

Benny shot his brother a look and stuck his tongue out, because apparently Benny was still five. “Of course I’m listening! Non-bi-nar-y,” he sounded it out, tapping his finger on the table with each syllable. “What does, uh… What does that like, mean, Fish?”

Frankie furrowed his brows and took another drink. “I haven’t actually asked yet. All they told me is that they’re like… both, and neither, at the same time.” He hummed thoughtfully. “I was a little distracted after that and didn’t get to ask.”

Santiago grinned, slapping Frankie on the shoulder. “Good for you, Fish.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, but smiled, thinking about the kiss he shared with River the other night. They kept texting, and he’d even asked River out on a real date, which brought the guys to the bar. It had been a year or so since his last date and he needed advice on where to take someone like River. He wasn’t as familiar with the goth subculture and thought maybe his brothers would have experience. At the very least Ben, who’d been with a few different kinds of people.

“I did look it up that night after I got home, but I’m still a little confused,” Frankie shrugged.

“Just ask them, man,” Will offered. “They seemed cool with your first question.”

Frankie nodded, a look of determination crossing his features. “You’re right. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

Frankie was sweating. Marisol was with her mom this week, so he hadn’t had to worry about having that conversation yet. He was planning on telling River about her tonight. He checked his hair in the mirror again before he left, deciding to go without his hat tonight, but worried all his nerves would deflate the work he put into it. He sighed as he messed around with the unruly curls again. This is why he stuck to hats. Frankie’s phone vibrated on the bathroom counter, startling him.

ok im ready, eddie 😉

River still thought it was hilarious that Frankie had worn an Iron Maiden t-shirt to a goth club, claiming that it fit his “old man aesthetic”, whatever that meant. This led to River referring to Frankie as “Eddie”, after the band’s skeleton mascot.

Yeah yeah i’m coming

Frankie saw the typing dots appear and disappear a couple times before disappearing completely. He sighed to himself and checked his hair one last time before leaving his apartment.

When he got to the neighborhood of the address River had given him, he checked his phone again, making sure he was in the right place. He slowly crept up the hill towards the last line of apartments and immediately his heart started pounding. Frankie really liked River. He didn’t want to fuck this up, and hoped him being a dad wouldn’t ruin that. Or his big dumb mouth.

River was standing at the bottom of the staircase of the apartment complex and waved, a huge grin on their face. Frankie stopped the truck and leaned over to open the passenger side door for them to climb inside. The scent of bergamot, clove, and sandalwood filled his nostrils again as the truck door shut. Frankie calmed down, and smiled, leaning over to give River a kiss on the cheek. “You look amazing,” he breathed, taking in River’s outfit; they had a collarless shirt buttoned up all the way, tucked into plaid pants, and nice dress shoes. All black, of course. They wore no lipstick today, their makeup was simple, and their hair was perfectly straight. It looked like they’d freshly shaved the right side of their head as well. River’s look was so new for Frankie, he couldn’t help being captivated by them every time he saw them.

“Thank you,” River smiled, heart skipping a beat. “Where are we off to?” They rested their ring-clad hand over Frankie’s larger one in between the two of them on the seat. “When you said it was a surprise, I admit I got a little nervous.”

Frankie placed his hand on the back of the truck seat and looked behind them as he backed up to leave the apartment complex. River’s eyes were glued to Frankie’s neck and subtly licked their lips at the sight of the thick muscles and veins. Their eyes moved up to Frankie’s side profile and they swooned.

“How come? Don’t trust me?” Frankie smirked, making eye contact before his eyes moved to the road, and started heading toward their destination.

River shrugged, even though they knew he couldn’t see them. “Maybe. Maybe not,” they smirked. The red light of the clock on the console caught River’s eye; 7:30pm.

“Well, that’s a shame. I had a nice dinner planned and everything,” Frankie showed them an exaggerated pout, a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, well, in that case.”

The restaurant Frankie picked might’ve been a little more… casual, then he remembered. The last time he was here was with Jackson. He shook off the memory. He was here with River now. The place was actually more like a diner, with vintage photos of women in pinup-style outfits and poses.

Frankie reached for River’s hand and laced their fingers together as he found them a table, letting River sit first.

“Such a gentleman,” River teased, squeezing his hand before getting comfy in the booth.

“I try,” Frankie smiled bashfully as he joined them on the opposite side. The light shining down onto the table lit River beautifully. He noticed that River’s button-up was actually a dark green, with subtle velvet roses all over.

They ordered their food and made easy conversation. River talked about their job as an architect. They were working on designing a building that was be built in the next couple of years in the city. Frankie found it fascinating but couldn’t focus on the words, too distracted by their calming voice and watching their mannerisms. River talked with their hands a lot whenever they got excited about something, and Frankie thought it was adorable.

“Sorry, I know I’m rambling now,” River shook their head, cutting themself off. Frankie frowned,mouth full of french fries.

“Please, continue, I don’t mind listening.”

So River did. They talked about anything and everything. Frankie interjected here and there, but was more than content to listen to River talk. When there was a lull in the conversation, Frankie’s palms started to get sweaty. Their plates were empty now, but River still had half of their milkshake left.

It was now or never. Frankie took a deep breath.

“So… I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he started. River raised an eyebrow and rested their chin on the palm of their hand, listening. Frankie cleared his throat before continuing. “Um, so I know this is a dealbreaker for some people, so I won’t be offended if you want to stop things after tonight. B-But I would like to stay friends if that’s the case.” He rubbed his sweaty hands on his thighs. “I’ve got a daughter.”

River was quiet for a second before a small smile appeared on their face. “I’m actually not surprised. How old is she?”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not. You’re an incredibly handsome man of a certain age–”

“Hey.”

“And any woman would be stupid not to make an honest man outta you,” River winked.

Frankie blinked a couple times before chuckling softly. River continued to surprise him. “Well, her mother isn’t in the picture, at least not with me. Marisol, my daughter, sees her half the time, and stays with me the other half of the time,” he explained, crossing his arms comfortably over the table. “Oh, and she’s four.”

“Aww, can I see a picture of her?”

Frankie’s heart fluttered as pulled his phone out, opening the album of photos devoted just to his little girl. He slid his phone over to River and they started scrolling through the photos with a smile on their face.

“She’s adorable, Frankie,” River hummed, returning his phone back to him. “I can tell you think the world of her. I won’t lie, I’m not really… uh, a kid kind of person. I always just planned on being the cool cousin and not a parent,” they muttered, resting their chin on their palm again.

Frankie nodded in understanding. “I totally get that. I just figured it wouldn’t be fair to you, or to Marisol, to keep her a secret, y’know?”

“Absolutely, and I appreciate you telling me,” River nodded back. “But I like you. A lot. And I’m willing to give this a shot with you. So I don’t think Marisol is a dealbreaker.”

Frankie’s heart soared at River’s words. “I really like you, too,” he grinned like an idiot, cheeks warm. “C’mon, we still have another part to this date.” He stood up and held his hand out for River to take.

After paying, the two found themselves back in Frankie’s truck heading down the highway. It was starting to get darker and the roads were clearing. They pulled up to a drive-in, but there weren’t any other cars.

“What is this, Grease?” River teased. “A diner and then a drive-in movie?”

Frankie snorted and reached out his window to pay for their tickets before finding somewhere to park. “I happen to like drive-in movies and diners, thank you very much.”

“That’s because you’re old–”

“I’m only a few years older than you,” Frankie deadpanned.

“Details.”

About a third of the way into the original Halloween, Frankie put his arm around River’s shoulders and pulled them close. River happily cuddled into Frankie’s side, loving the warmth and softness they found there.

Halfway through, River’s eyes started wandering elsewhere. They looked down at the crotch of Frankie’s jeans, and wondered what lay beyond the tight denim. They looked up at Frankie’s face and kissed the little patch in his beard that refused to grow hair. Frankie looked down at them, deep brown eyes looking over River’s features. He went from their dark-rimmed eyes, to their collarbone, and back to their plush lips, his heart pounding. He didn’t need any further convincing and started kissing River deeply, holding the side of their face.

River hummed into Frankie’s mouth and slowly crawled into Frankie’s lap. They grinned as Frankie huffed a breath against their lips, holding River’s hips in his large hands. River kissed the corner of Frankie’s mouth before moving down to the side of his neck and sucked a mark where his neck met his shoulder. Frankie shuddered, moving a hand down and squeezing River’s ass. They lifted their head and looked at the far-away expression on his face.

“Are you one of those guys that doesn’t like to fool around on the first date?”

Frankie blinked up at River, thinking about it. “I mean, no, but–” “Good,” River growled, latching back onto Frankie’s neck and sucking hard.

Frankie moaned openly at that, but pulled them away. “Wait,” he breathed. River tilted their head to the side and didn’t say anything, letting Frankie continue. “Um, I had another question.”

“Okay.”

“Well, uh. I don’t mean to kill the mood, because God, I really wanna get back to that, b-but I was curious,” Frankie swallowed, not making eye contact again. “I looked up what non-binary was after you told me and I was a little confused, and basically I just– Um, I wanna know like, how… this would… work,” he trailed off, gesturing between the two of them and at the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re asking what I have so you know how to proceed.” It was a statement, not a question, said softly in understanding. River played with the curls at the back of Frankie’s neck.

Frankie nodded. “If that’s an invasive question, I’m really sorry, and–”

“Shh,” River chuckled, pecking Frankie on the cheek. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not offended. You’re actually being really sweet about all of this. I know this is new for you.”

Frankie smiled shyly and shrugged, but let them continue.

“I was raised as a girl. ‘Assigned female at birth’, is typically what we call it,” River looked down, playing with the collar of Frankie’s shirt. “You were assigned male at birth. The doctors looked at your parts and decided that’s what you were, and you never felt like it was incorrect, right?”

Frankie nodded, listening carefully.

“Right. Well, it felt wrong to me. I didn’t really know what the feeling was growing up. It’s actually kind of a recent development for me.”

Frankie chewed on his bottom lip, one question still buzzing around his head. “How do you… How did you know? And did you… have any… surgeries? To um–” he didn’t know how to word any of this.

River laughed softly. “Yeah, I had top surgery. I no longer have breasts, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Everything below the belt is still intact,” they grinned, moving their crotch closer to Frankie’s. “The complicated answer, especially for someone so new to this, is that gender is a societal thing. How you’re perceived, presented to the world is just through the eyes of society. How you see yourself is what actually matters, though. And when all that societal bullshit doesn’t affect your life, the roles you’re ‘supposed’ to play don’t matter anymore.”

“I’m River. River is me. I don’t care how people see me. I did all of this,” they gestured to their body. “For me. Not for anyone else. Because if I didn’t, I would be unhappy. And my own mental health and happiness matters more than some so-called church-going do-gooder’s opinion.”

Frankie looked at River in awe. Their confidence and respect for themself was one of the most attractive things he’d ever seen. “You’re amazing,” Frankie breathed, surging forward to kiss them deeply. He gripped River’s ass again and pulled them closer, grinding his hardening cock against them.

River moaned softly, grinding back, and tangling their fingers into his hair. Suddenly, Frankie pulled back, catching his breath.

“Wait, does that, like…” He thought for a second. “While I was doing my research, I came across a couple other terms I didn’t know.”

River chuckled and kissed down Frankie’s neck softly. “Go on.”

Frankie’s breath hitched, speaking shakily. “Um, I’ve always considered myself b-bisexual– oh– a-and if non-binary people are technically a th-third gender, then does that change?”

“No,” River hummed, licking underneath Frankie’s ear, before taking the lobe into their mouth and nibbling.

“It doesn’t?”

River shook their head. “Bisexual is more like an umbrella term. People interpret it differently,” they reached a hand down between them, trailing their fingers to Frankie’s belt buckle and undoing it. “For example, you’ve always assumed it just meant you were attracted to men and women, right?”

Frankie moaned softly as the pressure was relieved from his hard cock, and nodded.

“Exactly. Another way you could see it is you being attracted to people that are like you,” they gripped Frankie’s cock tightly, making him gasp sharply. “And people who aren’t.” They grabbed his hand and placed it onto their crotch, grinding against him.

He was so hard he was throbbing, and so turned on his head spun. He started undoing River’s dress pants and slipped his hand down to their panties, finding their pussy impossibly warm and wet.

“Fuck,” Frankie groaned, rubbing at their clit through the fabric of their underwear. River moaned sweetly and bit their bottom lip, moving Frankie’s boxer briefs out of the way so they could grip around his cock.

“You’re so hard,” River grinned, rubbing their thumb over the tip. They started stroking him slowly, watching as the head of Frankie’s cock appeared and disappeared underneath the foreskin.

Frankie was breathing heavily, resting his head on the back of his seat and looking at River through his lashes. He moved the tips of his fingers in small circles for a few moments before he moved his fingers beneath their underwear and touched bare skin. River gasped at the contact and nodded, giving him permission. Frankie slowly sunk his middle finger inside them and started pumping in and out. His thumb rubbed in time against their clit. River started moaning louder, throwing their head back to expose their throat to him.

Frankie saw an opening and latched his mouth onto their neck, marking them in return as his free hand held the back of River’s head. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, biting at River’s skin.

River shuddered at the praise, rocking their hips against Frankie’s hand. “‘M close,” they whined, panting down at him. They started to lose their rhythm on Frankie’s cock and squeezed him tightly in their fist. Frankie nodded in understanding and started moving his fingers faster, adding a second one as the slick sounds coming from between River’s legs filled the truck.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna come for me?” he breathed against their neck, leaving soft kisses against their skin. The contrast between what his mouth and what his hand were doing was overwhelming and River wouldn’t change it for the world.

River nodded, their brows moving downward in pleasure before stilling above him as they came. Their hips rocked back and forth over Frankie’s hand as they came down, moaning and biting their lip.

The sight of River coming was enough for Frankie and his cock twitched hard as he erupted all over River’s hand. He grunted and hid his face in their neck as his balls emptied messily. He whined softly, twitching in the aftershocks.

River giggled quietly and held him close after licking their hand clean. “Gonna have to blow you next time,” they hummed thoughtfully.

Frankie groaned as his oversensitive cock twitched between them. “Don’t say shit like that while I’m still vulnerable, you menace.”

River bit his cheek, then kissed it softly. “You love it.”

He did. He really did.

a/n: please enjoy this meme that inspired the scene above

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fic #oaksfics

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twisted-turtels · 3 months

Text

Crossed Paths (Pt.1)

Farleigh Start x black!fem!oc

Author’s note: this is so random of me. Welcome to my new fixation, Farleigh Start from Saltburn. I wonder how long this story will last lol.

969 words is crazy i dont even write this much for my classes lol. it takes me days to get to 1000 words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Crossed Paths

“Mama, there is no need to worry about me. You don’t trust me?” Jordan says. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I don't trust the rest of the world. You're my baby, and you’re leaving me. Going all the way across the world!” Monica, Jordan’s mom, exclaims.

“Ma, you know this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I have never left this country, and I get the chance to study at one of the oldest and most prestigious universities for free! There’s nothing to worry about,” Jordan explains, “Listen, I’m about to pull up to my apartment, or shall I say ‘flat’ as the Englishmen describe it. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnighhhht.”

“Goodnight, baby, I love you. Don’t go crazy over there now!” Monica hangs up.

Jordan gets out of her taxi and takes in her surroundings. University of Oxford, I can’t believe I made it. Jordan clumsily gathers her luggage from the taxi (It’s a lot of stuff) and walks towards the entrance to her accommodation. As she struggles to make sure none of her luggage falls, she accidentally bumps into a tall figure.

“Fuck.”

“Oh shit, I am so sorry!” Jordan looks up and exclaims. She sees a tall, pretty, light-skinned man staring down at his now-stained shirt. He’s black, she thinks. “Yes, and so is my shirt,” the man says sarcastically. “Oh, I did not realize I said that out loud. I’m sorry again. I’m kind of struggling, and I guess I wasn't paying-” she tries to explain, “You’re American?” the man interrupts. “Um, yeah, I just got in today, if you can’t tell. I’m here for an exchange program,” she continued. “Not many of us here. Listen, don’t worry about the shirt. I hope to see you around, but I gotta be somewhere soon,” the man quickly says and walks off.

“For sure,” Jordan trails off, saying before she looks at her bags, I guess I will take this up myself. “Ugh!” she groans.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan sits in her flat and looks at the now unpacked space. I did a great job. I think I'm gonna put a Texas flag on my wall, too. She slumps down on the couch and looks at the flyer on her coffee table. ‘Undergraduate Social! 5 PM,’ it reads. “I guess I can attempt to socialize,” Jordan looks down at her watch, “One hour to get ready, but I don’t have to be there at exactly 5 pm though,” Jordan thinks aloud. I wonder if I’ll see the man from earlier?

After freshening up, Jordan gathered her keys and wallet and went to the social. She entered the student union and noticed it bustling with students and professors. While looking around, she subconsciously looks for the man she met earlier. Not many black students, she notes. She takes the time to go up to different organization tables and gather information. As she moves from table to table, she feels a delicate hand tap her shoulder. Jordan turns around and notices a blonde girl standing in front of her.

“Hello!” the blonde girl exclaims.

“Hello?” Jordan questions.

“Sorry for the abruptness, but I just wanted to introduce myself. You seemed lost. My name is Venetia, and I wanted to ask, are you American?”

“Uh yeah, I am. I’m from Texas, actually.” Jordan explains.

“That’s really cool. There aren't many Americans here. I do know another one, though, who just happens to be my cousin. Would you like to meet him?”

I do need friends, so it wouldn't hurt.

“I don’t mind that at all. Lead the way. Also, my name is Jordan, by the way.”

“What a lovely name. Follow me!” Venetia instructs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Boys, I would like you to meet Jordan! She’s American just like you, Farleigh!” Venetia exclaims

Jordan stares at the tall man. “Oh, we’ve met Vee. She’s the one who spilled tea on my shirt.” Farleigh explains with a stoic look on his face.

Jordan stares at her feet sheepishly, “Yeah, really sorry about that.”

Farleigh stared the girl down until he smirked, “I’m just playing; it wasn’t a big deal. It's nice to put a pretty name to a pretty face, though.”

He just called me pretty.

“Ignore Farleigh, he’s a little jokester. Aren’t you cousin?” Venetia teasingly asks as Farleigh rolls his eyes. “Anyway, this is my brother, Felix,” Venetia gestures to another tall, handsome man. Are all British men above 6 feet and handsome?

“Hello. Sorry for my sister practically dragging you over here,” Felix jokes.

“I did not drag her over here!” Venetia exclaims

“Haha, it’s okay. I need to put myself out there more honestly, don’t want to be alone during my time here.” Jordan reassures.

“How about I get your phone number?” Farleigh blurts out, he then corrects himself, “ How about we all get your number so we can continue hanging out more? Obviously, I don’t want to be the only American in the group.”

“I thought you would never ask,” Jordan pulls out her phone to notice it’s dead, “Oops, phone is dead. Let me just write it down.” There is no paper. “Can I see your hand?” Jordan asks Farleigh while taking out a pen. Jordan softly holds Farleigh’s hand and writes down her number, “You can pass this on to the rest of them,” Jordan smiles at Farleigh.

“It was really nice meeting y'all, but I have to get ready for the first day, so I’ll see y'all later,” Jordan waves and walks off.

Oh my god, when did I get so bold?

The group looks at each other in astonishment as Jordan walks away. “Ooh, Farleigh, she gave you her number,” Venetia teases. “She gave it to all of us,” Farleigh defends himself.

“She says y’all,” Felix points out. “That’s so Texas of her.” He jokes.

#saltburn imagine #farleigh start #felix catton #venetia catton #oliver quick #farleigh imagine #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader

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cookie-crumblr · 7 months

Text

Hype Train!

F! Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 2~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2 3

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, extortion, pet names not given by ML (kitten, good girl), little angsty possibly?, smut will start in the next part!🐶✨!

“Sup Jazzy” his own voice says to him.

“Sup Devvy, how’re you and Issac?”

“Awww, did you just call cause you missed us?” they say in an mocking tone, their voice changing to one of their own mid way through the sentence.

“Always, but that’s not why I called.” He sends a copy of some of your cat cam footage that he sped watched through. “I just need the name of the dick hole at 57:32. I’d do it myself but I don’t want to look that thing up on my work computer.”

“Ooooo! I see why you need that info. She’s mine and Issac’s type too… Sent!”

“Thanks. This still doesn’t pay me back by the way.”

“Figures, I am using your face and all.”

“Yeah ‘nd my face is hot. You’ll owe me for a long time you filthy fuckin’ sadist.”

“Takes one to know one,” they say through a smirk. “Hey Jasper,” their head tilts in curiosity, “your girl just left her building…”

“What?” He pulls up some of the other cameras in the building to look. The second floor has a bling camera that pinged it’s owner’s phone just now.

Sure enough you’re seen walking down the stairs in front of that door. You have a baking pan in hands with one birthday candle sticking out of what looks like chocolate cake.

“Why is she going out at this time? it’s like 3am for her. Has she done this before? does she always bring cake, and nothing else?”

Not even a second passes, “Looks like once a month. She goes out at two-ish, I followed her through the ground cameras to a factory. Sending all footage from the last time now. And coordinates for current active cameras near the perceived destination.”

“Shit. A factory?! What could she possibly be doing at a place like that at three in the fucking morning. That’s so dangerous. Watch her until she gets home. And I don’t know, fucking, blow somethin’ up if shit starts to go down. I have to take a flight. ‘Nd, don’t go outside for a while, unless you get a new face in the meantime.”

“Awww, but I like your face,” they pout.

“Me too! Just kidnap someone for a minute, and deal with it. jeeze. You’ll figure it out.”

“Or I could—”

“Bye Dev.in, i’ll be in contact, and if something happens to her, you’re never getting out of my contract.”

“I hate being indebted to a filthy fucking sadist like you.” they fake a sigh, not actually upset.

“Takes one to know one.” Jasper hangs up abruptly, already packing up three laptops, and their accessories to go.

Sure enough, you’ve walked all the way to a factory at 3am.

You’re running a little late tonight…

He can wait… You think.

He’s already extorting you double, almost triple your rent now.

He can wait.

“Fuck!” You hurry.

All you brought is that stupid hollow cake filled with a plastic bag of cash, and a lighter. Like always.

Eventually you get there, none the wiser that you’re being watched over by a sort of guardian angel this time.

They invisibly follow as you swerve through dark alley ways. You take slightly different routes every time.

Dev.in sits watching, waiting, finding everything nearby that they could hack if they need to cause a distraction to hopefully save you if it comes to that.

You’ve done this so many times before, usually just out of a camera’s reach.

They get into the satellites, replaying footage, as it is unfolding in real time, comparing.

On more than one time you’ve gotten attacked.

Jasper isn’t going to like that.

He already doesn’t approve of this.

You hobble dazedly to the ER when that happens, but you still go to the drop off point first.

What could be more important or scary than that, that you’d not see a doctor first?

The satellite and the real time footage all play out similarly:

You meet the same man.

He grabs you

He kisses you on the cheek.

You light the candle.

He blows it out.

He leans in to say something into your ear.

You walk either home, or to the hospital depending.

Dogs are out barking viciously nearby.

You don’t even flinch at any of this anymore.

This has been going on for more than a year it seems.

What is in that cake?

“The cake you wanted.” You shift uncomfortably, holding the pan out in offering. “And sorry I was running a little late.”

“It’s okay,” He gives you that smile that sends a freezing chill right down into your bones. “things happen,” He shrugs.

He kisses you on the cheek, and leans further to tell you how much you owe them next month and the day he wants you to come.

His menthol cigarette scent makes you nauseous the closer he gets to you.

Intrusive and rough hands grope up your arms and one rests now under your chin.

He makes you feel filthy.

You’re grimacing.

“I trust you Kitten, besides… you know i’ll get my money one way or another.” His grip tightens and your face scrunches harder. “You’d hate to go back into the pit right? Now go on home and be a good girl until we meet again…” his grip is so tight you stifle a whine.

You turn and walk away again. Keeping your pace even, and your head held high.

You almost blend into the underground world.

Almost.

A man with a blade that glints in the cameras is following you back home.

While you fiddle with the main door’s lock and your keys, your hands tremble, displaying how terrified you really are.

Dev.in starts a car parked directly behind you.

You manage to stumble inside while the guy is distracted.

You lean against the inside of the front door, a relieved, and beyond stressed sigh leaves your chest.

Then you head upstairs, fatigued just like every time prior.

You have a fitful rest, filled to the brim with nightmares that constantly wake you up, panting and clutching your chest.

The dawn finally comes. The sun is more than welcome as it shines through the slits between your blackout curtains.

You jump out of bed, not wanting to try and sleep any longer.

You have today off work, thank goodness.

As soon as your computer is on, and dipcord is open, you get a DM, “Hey! Sorry I had to suddenly leave last night! getting a little overworked rn. Wanna VC soon?”

You call him this time.

The longer it rings, the harder your heart pounds.

“Hey there, Y/N, I forgot to tell you somethin’ last night.”

“Oh really?” You try not to sound nervous, or stressed but he can hear it all in your sleepy inflections.

“I have a meet up comin’ up soon!” He didn’t until last night though. “It’s in (a city near you), is that close to you at all? My viewers have been begging me to bring you since they met you!” He isn’t wholly lying, they really do love you already.

“What?! really!” your excitement overpowers you precarious emotional state, “That’s actually super close to me! I think I can afford the trip…” You sigh, remembering work, “Wait, um what day…?”

He frowns, his heart spreading a tingling sharp pain all the way down to his left hand, “I-I can change it! i-if you can’t make the day! when are your days off next month?”

“No!” ops, that came out a little too loud, “Uh, no, sorry. I can’t have you do that. I mean, what if your viewers already changed their schedule?” You sigh.

He hasn’t even told them yet, nobody’s schedule can be impacted.

He scrubs the footage from the bling camera downstairs to see your schedule quickly, you seem to have one day off a week… What the fuck? He thinks… And so much overtime, how little are they paying you?

“Jasper…?”

“Oh sorry! i only got like three hours of sleep last night,” he chuckles”

“Oh no! that’s not good, you should try and nap after this!” you sound so genuinely stressed for him. His pain evaporates.

“It’s on Tuesday the 12th. Is that doable?”

You sigh in relief, “Yes! I actually can! that’s so cool! it falls right on one of my days off!” Your gut flips, something feels so off…

Maybe it’s just the residual feeling from last night?

“Awesome! I’ll definitely be takin’ that nap soon then,” he laughs such a perfect and easy laugh, it somehow eases your entire being beyond belief.

Tears start prickling your eyes, and he hears your tiny sniffle.

“Is somethin’ the matter Y/N?” His voice is so gentle again. he makes you imagine a summer morning in a sprawling golden field. It’s like sun on your skin for the first time in so long…

Yes. God yes. your life. That’s what’s wrong. How the fuck did you get in half the predicaments you’re currently in? “No,” You fake a yawn, “I’m just a little sleepy, I guess we’re in the same boat there!” you let out a laugh that sounds more strained than you wanted.

You can’t cry yet.

Don’t cry yet.

Please.

Do. Not. cry.

I’m gonna take a nap too! sorry I-I have to go!” Your voice cracks, “sleep well, Jasper…”

You hang up without giving him a chance to say anything more. Without the chance to catch you.

and the second that app is closed, your dam bursts.

You feel like screaming, and you feel hoarse like you already have been.

How long ago was the last time you’ve cried?

The last time you’ve even felt safe enough to cry.

“Jazzy! my man-”

“Dev, I need ya to black this entire town out for an hour.”

#my oc #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere #yandere x reader #my fic #yandere x you #tw yandere #dead dove do not eat #oc jasper #yandere streamer #male yandere #yandere oc #streamer yandere #yandere streamer x you #yandere streamer x reader #streamer x streamer

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moonsgemini · 10 months

Text

seeking arrangements - i

summary: Lola's sister is getting married and the best man happens to be her cheating ex. In a desperate attempt to impress her family and show her ex she’s moved on with a hot date Lola turns to the advice of coworker pointing her towards the direction of a male escort. Rafe Cameron was the perfect man to take to any event for just $8,000. Her family won’t suspect a thing and when the wedding’s over they’ll never see each other again. Right?

warnings: escort!rafe x oc, mentions of a cheating ex, escort talk ??, fluff I think

wc: 4.1k

an: I love the movie the wedding date so I wanted to write a series based off of the idea, I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it (:

series masterlist

Lola opened the door to her apartment shedding her rain coat and hanging it on her coat rack. The last of the May rain was really getting the best of her this year. She loved living in the city because it was walkable but she didn’t love it when it rained because she got soaked on her commute home. Her cat, Sailor, jumped down from the window sill of the living room and came to greet her rubbing her head against her legs purring lightly.

“Hi sweet girl, did you have a good day today?” Lola asked the black fluffy cat as she bent down and picked her up. Cradling her like a baby and kissing her face. Lola got lucky with a cuddly easy going cat. She felt like Sailor was her closest and most trusted friend.

She set Sailor down and walked over to her room with a content sigh. After changing into some comfy clothes and washing her makeup off she laid on her big grey couch. Her plans for the rest of the evening were to lay on her couch and get Chinese takeout, catch up on emails and watch her favorite show. Her favorite activities. After putting on friends as a little background noise she pulled her laptop out of her bag to check her emails. That’s when her memory of her morning at the office came back to her, her face flushed as she looked at the drafted email in front of her.

Rafe,

Hi my name is Lola and I’m in need of a date to a wedding. It’d be more than a date actually, I need a fake boyfriend in about two weeks for 5 days. It’ll be June 12th-17th in the Hamptons. My sister is getting married in the hamptons and my family is kind of nuts and obsessed with me getting a boyfriend. My ex boyfriend is also the best man in the wedding, and if it was like a regular break up it’d be fine but he cheated on me for over a year of our relationship so I want to show that I’ve moved on. I may seem desperate but I kind of am. Did I mention that I heard of you through a work friend whose cousin has a friend who hired you for some event. So if you’re interested please email me back and if you’re not then please forget I ever emailed you.

xx Lola

“oh God,” she muttered as she read it over. Did she sound desperate? maybe.

Eight months ago Lola’s sister Penny had called her squealing with excitement. She barely let Lola say hello before she was spilling the news about how her boyfriend, now fiancée, Harry had proposed to her. How he did it in the most romantic way while they were on vacation in Italy. It was hard for Lola to feel excited for her sister but she still put on an amazing act like always. All her life Penny had outshined and beat Lola in everything. She was the younger shining star that their mother put on a pedestal, little sister never did anything wrong. Penny won first place in science fairs, always got the boy, never had to try hard to get her dream job. It all seemed to come easy to her.

Three years ago Lola moved after graduating from college because she got an amazing job at a publishing office. She even got cute apartment and she felt like she was finally coming into her own. Penny came to the city when her and Harry were just friends to see him, of course seeing her sister wasn't her main priority. But she figured she’d kill two birds with one stone and invited Lola to dinner with them, where then Harry invited his best friend Thomas. They immediately hit it off and soon after he was her everything. She thought she’d be the first to get married, until two years into the relationship she found out the scum bag had been cheating on her for a year of the relationship. Lola was surprising him at work with lunch when this girl from his office crawled out from under his desk.

Ever since Penny had given her the news of the engagement she had face-timed or called Lola almost every week for the first few months whether it was about what flowers should be the center pieces or how many tiers should the cake be. Along with breaking the news that Thomas was going to be the best man, Penny just mentioned it in passing like it was no big deal. As if her sister's cheating ex wasn't going to be an important part of the wedding.

It was mentally exhausting but Lola couldn’t complain. It was her sister she had to help her and be there, she had to be a good big sister. Every time during those calls Penny would find a way to weasel in the question, “so do you have a date yet?” Lola hated that question. It was like Penny knew her sister couldn’t find a date. Every time Lola would say the same thing, “Not yet Pen.” Then she’d say, “I think Thomas is still bringing that girl from soho.” Almost as if she was trying to chip away at Lola’s finally mended heart. The last time Penny called about and asked that god forsaken question Lola blurted out a lie. “Actually yeah I-I’ve been seeing a guy for a few months but uh I didn’t want to invite him until I was sure about him.”

The lie came out almost too easy and she immediately regretted it. Where was she going to find a date. Especially someone who would want to spend 5 days with her crazy family. She had rested her head on her desk with a loud thud after she hung up the phone, catching the attention of Fiona.

“You good over there?” She asked peaking over at her coworker.

Lola lifted her head facing her, “I’m royally screwed.” She explained the situation to Fiona about the imaginary date she was taking.

“Who the hell am I going to find in a week,” Lola groaned tugging at her hair.

Fiona hummed in thought, “Okay you’re probably going to say no, but I may have a solution.”

Fiona explained how her cousin’s friend hired a male escort to go with her to a work party. The woman had been tired of going to work parties alone for the last few years and took matters into her own hands. The cousin’s friend had found him after he did a small anonymous segment in a magazine about male escorts. She knew the magazine’s editor and found the guy. Lola thought Fiona was crazy if she thought she would do that and immediately shut the idea down. But after some contemplation she timidly asked how she could get in contact with the guy, which led to the typing up of the email. She didn’t send it because she wasn’t sure if this would be a smart idea.

Lola read the drafted email over and over again, hovering the mouse over send. What could go wrong? A lot actually. Her whole family could find out and she’d be the laughing stock of the century. After that thought she definitely wasn’t going to send it. Maybe she could just go alone and tell her sister that her and mystery man broke up. As she was about to delete it Sailor jumped onto her lap and her fingers slipped and pressed down on send.

“Sailor! Fuck,” she gasped as she sat up, the cat getting off of her and standing on the ledge of the couch.

I guess there’s no turning back now, she thought to herself. She was honestly hoping he wouldn’t reply, but for some reason the rejection would make her feel worse.

Saturday’s were Lola’s favorite because she would go to her favorite deli and get a bagel, then head over to the farmers market. She had spent the whole night before refreshing her email with a glass of wine in hand waiting for Rafe’s reply

She was headed back home her shoulders carrying reusable bags filled with produce. Her favorite part of the day was over, but she couldn’t help but be anxious to get home and check her email. She hadn’t let herself check before she left the apartment or while she was at the market. It was 2pm now he has to have replied by now.

She made her way into her apartment unloaded the bags onto her kitchen counters before almost running to the living room where her laptop sat on the couch. Lola took a deep breath before opening her email, closing her eyes as her new messages loaded.

“Sailor this is your fault if he rejects me,” she muttered as the cat stared at her from the window sill. She looked back at her screen and the email with the subject title Hamptons Wedding staring at her. He had replied, her heart rate instantly picking up. She didn’t even know if this guy was good looking now that she thought about it. What if he ended up being some murderer? Before her racing mind took over she opened the email.

Lola,

It sounds like you’re in a sticky situation, so I’d like to help you out. Hopefully we can discuss all the details and the prices in person to get to know each other better. If you’re free this afternoon we can meet at Lucy’s in Manhattan at 6pm. Let me know if that works for you.

- Rafe

“Holy shit,” she gasped. Lola looked at the corner of her laptop at the time, 2:48pm.

Rafe,

That sounds great, I’ll see you then!

xx Lola

She quickly scrambled to her bathroom after sending her reply. It was her hair wash day and with about two and a half hours left to get ready she needed to start now.

As she was getting ready her mind was racing. What if he was ugly? But he did this for a living so she was sure that he had to be good looking. Hopefully not too out of her league or else how would her family believe her. How would Thomas believe her. What if Rafe thought she wasn’t pretty. Lola felt like she was getting ready for a blind date with the way she meticulously did her hair and winged her eyeliner. She had to keep reminding herself that this was just a business transaction, she didn’t need to impress him. Well maybe she did because he could totally reject her and turn down the idea.

When she was finally ready it was 5:21pm. She stared at herself in the mirror hoping her black dress and knitted cropped button up and boots looked good. She gave herself a small smile in the mirror and grabbed her bag. Kissing Sailor goodbye she headed out the door. The bar wasn’t too far from her apartment just a short 15 minute walk. She wore her headphones and listened to Taylor Swift trying to keep her mind elsewhere. Lola arrived to the bar and found a booth towards the back, she sat on the side facing the door so she could watch for her mystery man.

“Can you I get you anything to drink?” The waitress asked.

“Oh uh can I get a cosmo please,” Lola smiled politely. The waitress nodded and headed over to the bar.

Lola fidgeted with the rings on her fingers, eyes glued to the door. The door opened and a man walked through, probably just slightly taller than her with dark hair. Maybe this was him she thought as she sat up straighter, but he walked over to the other side of the bar greeting some other men who were already sat there. Her posture deflated a bit, maybe she was somehow being stood up. The waitress brought over her cosmo and she thanked her quietly. Taking a couple gulps to ease her nerves, almost finishing the whole drink.

The door to the bar opened once again and a tall man walked in. He was extremely handsome, chiseled features and dirty blonde hair. He was wearing a green button up and black jeans a silver chain around his neck. He stood at the front looking around until his eyes met Lola’s. He grinned and walked over to her. She couldn’t believe that this was Rafe, she felt like he was definitely out of her league.

“Hi, are you Lola?” Rafe asked even though he knew it was her. Her nervous demeanor and doe eyes definitely gave her away. His clients tended to have a certain anxious look to them, but she seemed different. She was also a lot younger than his usual clients, she seemed like she was his age but he was used to taking women in their 30s out. Rafe immediately thought she was pretty and he wondered how she couldn't find a real date to take.

“Hi yeah that’s uh me,” She smiled as she shook his outstretched hand. He sat down across from her and she really got a good look at him. He wasn’t just handsome he was hot. His eyes were blue and he had a bit of scruff as well as a bit of a mustache. His hair was parted down the middle his dirty blonde hair framing his face.

“So let’s talk business?” He asked breaking her out of her trance.

“Oh yeah, so I’ve never done anything like this ever. I just I really don’t want to go alone to this thing.”

He nodded, “Yeah that’s understandable, especially since you said your ex is the best man.” Rafe had been to a few weddings as a hired date but never one where his date was in the wedding party.

She raised her eyebrows and sighed, “Yeah just the icing on top of the cake. We were together for two years and I found him cheating on me with his coworker. I think he felt so guilty that he told me how he had been cheating on me for a year of our relationship because he felt like the spark had gone,” she laughed bitterly, “But the douche bag felt like faking it for a year with me would hurt less than a break up. I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you.” She laughed cheek’s getting hot as she realized she’d told her tragic love story to some stranger.

“It’s fine, kind of what I’m here for. I’m sorry he treated you like that. No one deserves that. I'm also here to make sure he sees what he missed out on,” He smiled sincerely.

The waitress walked over, “Hi can I get you anything to drink?”

“Oh yeah can I just get a tequila soda,” he looked over at Lola’s empty glass, “and another one of whatever she’s having.”

“I’ll be right back with that,” she smiled.

“Before I give you a price or anything like that I just want to know a breakdown of the whole thing. I know you said five days in the Hamptons,” Rafe said folding his arms over the table. Lola couldn’t help but stare at his arms, it had been a while since she had been on a date so she couldn’t help but stare at the greek god in front of her.

Lola nodded, “Right, it’s five days and we’d be staying at my parents Hampton’s house. My dad’s a doctor and my mom is an interior designer, my mom is a bit of a nut,” she chuckled, “But uh there will be a cocktail party, rehearsal dinner, bachelorette and bachelor party, a couple of family barbecues, there’s this tradition where we all play baseball. Just a lot of events leading up to the actual wedding.”

Rafe was really fascinated by Lola, he could tell she was an anxious person. He could also tell she didn’t know exactly how beautiful she was and he had a feeling that may have something to do with her family.

“Sounds like pretty standard wedding stuff, I usually am just the date to the actual wedding but it all sounds fun,” he shrugged.

She shook her head, “You won’t be saying that after you have to hear my sister whine about every little thing and my mom hits on you after her sixth glass of wine.”

“I can handle drunk moms, I promise. For the five days it’d be $8,000. If you wanted to do any intimate stuff then that costs extra,” He couldn’t help the small smirk that formed on his lips. He knew that she was going to refuse the intimate stuff because she didn’t seem like the type but he kind of liked seeing her squirm.

“Oh no I’m good, I just don’t I won’t,” she stuttered with a flushed face, “I won’t need the extra.” Lola was a pretty good saver so the money wasn’t a problem for her, and as much as she hated to say it she was a bit of a trust fund kid.

He chuckled, “Okay, so you pay the day that we leave. We can get our story together now so that if any questions come up like how we met we can answer them.”

“Alright, so uh what’s our story?”

Rafe pursed his lips thinking for a second, “Uh we met here. You came in after work for a drink, I came up to you flirted and the rest is history. Our first date was at Romano’s and we’ve been together for six months?”

Lola nodded her head taking a sip of her new cosmo the waitress had just brought over, “What if they ask me about you? Like who you are what your job is?"

“I’m a real estate developer my company is Cameron Development. I have two sisters and I’m from North Carolina,” He took a sip of his drink. He didn’t know what he was giving her real details about his life but he felt like he could trust her. She had a warm aura to her that was pulling him in.

“How old you are? College? Favorite foods? Are you allergic to anything?” She asked nervously trying to get as much information as possible.

“Sweetheart they’re not gonna ask that much I promise,” he chuckled, “but I'm 25, I didn’t go to college my dad passed on the company to me. My favorite food is any pasta, I’m not allergic to anything. I also need to know some things about you, to make it fair.”

She sighed, “Right. Well I’m really boring. I'm 24 I grew up in New Jersey, I went to Syracuse and majored in english. I work at a publishing company and I have a cat named Sailor. I hate mushrooms and I’m allergic to bees.”

“Tell me more about your family,” He leaned back in his seat and she swore everything he did was just too attractive.

“So my sister, Penny, she’s the one getting married. She’s my younger and only sister. She’s always kinda been the golden child, her fiancée Harry is a nice guy despite who his friends are. My mom is nuts she prefers wine over water. My dad is the only one in my family who really sees me, he’s a great guy,” She smiled lightly, “Uh my cousin Tabitha is crazy but like the good kind, she’s always a good time I love her. Everyone else like my aunts and uncles are all kind of kooky.”

Rafe smirked, “Kooky eh? I think I can handle that. All seems like standard wedding guests.”

Lola started fidgeting with her rings, “I-I really can’t thank you enough for this. I’ve never done anything like this before. I just really hope we can convince people.”

“Lola you don’t have anything to worry about okay? I promise we’ll be convincing, I’m a professional remember. It’s my job to make you feel good about yourself and talk you up to your family,” He gave her a crooked smile, “Now I just need to hear more about this dick ex boyfriend.”

She pushed away the warm feeling in her stomach that rose when he said he was going to make her feel good, “Oh god. So uh he works in finance and he thinks he’s some big hot shot. When we broke up he immediately got with the girl he had been cheating on me with, I think he's actually taking her. He’s self obsessed and arrogant but I was too blind in love to see it. Someone had finally paid attention to me and I ate it up.”

“So definitely a grade A douche bag, we’ll make him jealous Lola.” Rafe reassured.

She nodded giving him a tight lipped smile. There had been a question itching at her to ask him, “so how did you start doing this?”

He laughed, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, everyone always does. I uh kind of needed money and this girl from my hometown paid me two hundred bucks to take her to a Christmas party because she didn’t want to go alone. It sort of spiraled from there, but this isn’t my only job.”

“What else do you do?” She tilted her head curiously. He really didn’t need her to be doing cute things like that.

“That’s top secret, I don’t want to give out too much of myself for business reasons,” That was sort of a white lie because Rafe had in-fact told her what else he did but she didn’t need to know that Cameron Development was real.

“That’s understandable.”

After talking a bit more to get all their ducks in a row they left the bar, Rafe paying for their drinks despite Lola’s refusal. She was beginning to feel confident that they’d be able to pull this off. It was almost 10pm now as they walked side by side.

“How far do you live?” He asked looking over at her.

“It’s a fifteen minute walk,” She said looking up at him. Now that they were walking side by side she could really see their height difference. He was so much taller and broader than her, she felt light headed just thinking about it. Thomas had only been slightly taller than her.

“Let me walk you, it’s late.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive sweetheart, I can’t let you walk home alone.” He smiled.

The walk was filled with small talk about Lola’s job and her cat. Rafe barely spoke about himself but she knew it was to keep himself as anonymous as possible. They reached her apartment a lot quicker than she’d liked. Not that she would actually admit that.

“This is me.”

“Alright well you have my number so text me any other details I need to know, I’ll be here to pick you up in about a week. I know you have some doubts and anxiousness about this whole situation so if you need some reassurance don’t be afraid to reach out to me, but I promise this will all be fine.” He smiled hoping to ease her nerves.

“Thank you Rafe, really. You have no idea how much this means to me.” She smiled.

“Just doing my job sweetheart.”

“I’ll see you in a weeks then, goodnight Rafe.” She said before walking up to her apartment with butterflies in her stomach at the pet name he had used.

“Night Lola,” He waved before walking off in the direction of his apartment.

Lola wasn’t really regretting accidentally sending that email anymore. She only slightly regretted it because she didn’t expect him to be so handsome and charming, she would easily get sucked in to something that wasn’t going to be real. But she’d do anything to not face her family and ex alone.

As Rafe walked home he couldn’t help but think about Lola. His clients were usually older women these days, he also didn’t take on as many as he used to. Lately taking random women out to Christmas parties, fourth of July barbecues, and weddings didn’t feel as good as it did when he was 20. When he got Lola’s email he felt himself drawn to her, she seemed sweet and truly hurting about something. She didn’t sound desperate in the way other women did, she sounded hopeful. Rafe knew he would be royally screwed if he didn’t get his head in the game.

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starphasedd · 1 year

Text

Egon

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader)

Rating: 18 + for violence and explicit smut.

Synopsis: A small confession leads to something completely unexpected.

Notes: As promised!! I'm super proud of this guys! I think I captured Simon quite nicely. I am new to the fandom, and still reading lore. Feel free to correct me on anything you see wrong. Egon is actually the codename for my OC Ema 'Egon' Swann. This fic started with her, but as to not be selfish, I made it more inclusive by changing it to the reader perspective! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 8k+

AO3

Egon.

German, by nature. Meaning "strong with the wind"

That was the nickname the men of task force 141 gave you.

They had many reasons for this name. You were fast–agile on your feet. Small and clean. It was hard for any enemy to catch you, or even see you coming. You were strong too, for a woman of your size. You could easily take down a man twice your size with the techniques you studied and used over the years. But their main reason for giving you this nickname was for your sharpshooter skills. No matter the conditions, you always made your shot. Rain, thunder, wind. You never missed. No outlying factor kept you from doing your job.

That's what gained you the respect of task force 141.

You've known these men for a while, having been asked to join the team just over two years ago. In that time, you got to learn the boys well. All of them respected you and treated you as their equal–something you worked so hard for. Being a woman in this field of work is challenging, even for some of the strongest ladies you know. That didn't stop you from doing your job–which impressed Price when he worked with you on a mission before he asked you to join the team.

It was a mission in New York City, where you were a part of the NYPD task force. The lead was mafia related and Price's team was called in to assist. Your captain at the time knew it was a risky job, and he needed devoted and dangerous men to help him take their leader down. You along with a couple of your own comrades fought side-by-side task force 141 and pushed through a successful mission.

Everything after that is history. You left with Price and his team, never looking back.

These men are your family now, and you love every single one of them in your own way. Price and Gaz keep to themselves most of the time– Soap is the one you'd definitely call 'brother'. You and him have the best dynamic. He's goofy and chill, and you adore that about him. Inherently with him comes his Lieutenant, Ghost. A man you haven't really been able to get a read on since you met him those couple years ago. Yes, of course, it's mainly to do with the fact that he wears that damn mask twenty-four-seven. But he also isn't the most personable guy. He speaks when he needs to, and fights when he has to--but he hasn't really gone out of his way to get to know you–even though you and Soap are practically attached at the hip.

Being close to Soap means he typically picks you to go along with him and Ghost on missions. Which you don't mind. When the three of you get split up, the commlink keeps you all close, figuratively.

One of the things you and Soap bonded over was your mutual adoration of music. You didn't have the best childhood, and music was your escape. It appeared Soap used music to his comfort as well. So, when you're on missions but split apart, Soap keeps in your ear either spatting off random lyrics of songs, or requesting you sing to him. Much to Ghost's dismay–who has to listen to you two banter about why you don't like country music, or why Soap can remember so many random lyrics. Ghost keeps quiet, and you wonder if you get on his nerves. He's the type of guy to speak his mind and the fact that he hasn't said anything yet suggests he may…be okay with it? Who knows with that man.

Ghost keeps close, but far away at the same time. He treated you like an equal, and always made sure he had your six. The same thing goes for you. Granted, the giant, pure muscle of a man never really needed your help. You were always there for him. Over time, he seemed to soften on you. He would use your real name on occasion. He got worried sometimes when you didn't answer his comms right away and would scold you once you were all back together.

'Fuck woman, answer the bloody comms when your superior asks for your status.' He would gruff in that deep British baritone.

You would never admit it, but something about that man set your body on fire. His size, his voice, his attitude. Fuck, his attitude alone. He exudes confidence and experience without being cocky. There's nothing quite like a confident man–a man who knows what he wants and can take it whenever he wants….but doesn’t. He was always looming over your shoulder, watching you intently through the holes in his mask. Soap would comment on it every now and then, making fun of the Lieutenant for not being able to keep his eyes off you for a moment. You didn't think it was that serious–you convinced yourself he was just watching you for your own safety. As any good teammate would.

But then the subtle touches started. You would feel his large hand splaying over your lower back as he walked beside you up the copter ramp, almost as if he was guiding you. Of course it never happened if someone was around to see it—he made sure of it. But it would happen more frequently. They were genuine, and gentle touches. And completely innocent. Being a woman, you had an intuition for men's intentions–since you dealt with them your entire life. Ghost never set any alarms off. You always felt safe with him.

You trusted him with your life, and you hoped he felt the same about you.

He was cold and calculating—mysterious and quiet. Though he showed those small, intimate minstations to you and you alone, you tried not to think too much into it. Ridding yourself of the disappointment before it reared its ugly head. You often thought about what he looked like under that mask. You've seen his eyes countless times. They were brown like freshly ground coffee. He had blonde eyelashes that stuck out amongst the black paint he smeared right there. He had a strong, chiseled jawline. Sometimes you can see a few prominent veins through his mask when he tightens it. His neck is strong and thick, no doubt riddled with scars from his many years slaughtering men.

You imagined what his body looked like too. He's a big man, standing almost an entire foot taller than you. He had thick, broad shoulders and a puffy, muscular chest. Even when he wore one hundred pounds of gear, you could still see how fit he was. His waist was thin and strong, he had a certain swagger when he walked that always caught your eye. His forearms almost looked fat, they were so fucking thick with muscle. He was covered in huge protruding veins on both arms–they were even visible on the arm that was covered in tattoos. And his hands always made you blush. They were twice the size of yours, and you spent many occasions watching his big fingers work the trigger on his guns like a thread. He was nimble, and agile there.

You wondered what they would feel like–if they would grip your throat with delicacy or fierceness. If they would roam down your neck and swallow your breasts in a warm squeeze. If they would trail your curves all the way down to your ass and nead the soft, pillowy flesh there. If they would tease you–circling around that sensitive bundle of nerves until you were weeping for him. If they would pump you, fill and stretch you out until you were ready for his cock. Or would he even give you that decency and instead, take you unprepared in a hot, lustful frenzy?

It's all human nature, you suppose. It's natural for a woman to be sexually attracted to a protector like Ghost. It goes back thousands of years–it's all instinct. That's what you tell yourself after you cum on your hand thinking about your Lieutenant. When that wave of unfiltered shame and guilt rushes over you following your high.

_______

"Egon, how copy?" Comes that familiar gruffy voice.

You jump slightly, shuddering out of your thoughts as you neel against the abandoned brick building. Your rifle in your left hand, fingers tight on the trigger.

"Jesus, Lieutenant–awaiting target. No eyes yet." You grunt out, face heating up in embarrassment. He always knew when to catch you off guard.

"Eyes on the prize, sergeant. Stay focused."

You scoff, eyes rolling as you adjust your stance slightly. It's dark, the only light you have to use coming from old, orange colored lamps hanging from the buildings. To top that off, it's been raining all day so it's doubly hard to see far in the distance. Even with a scope.

"Easy for you to say, Lieutenant. I'm out here freezing my ass off and you're inside a nice warm building." You mumble into the mic.

"Punishment for not listening to your superior."

"Bite me." You retort.

No response. You grin. Any opportunity you get to fight back at the Lieutenant scolding you, you'll take.

A few minutes in silence go by as you wait patiently for your target to come into view. You have a black mask covering the bottom half of your face, leaving only your eyes and forehead exposed. A heavy leather hood covers your hair. Soft pelts of rain dropping keep you focused in the moment. Your tactical boots are worn and wet, holes from misuse letting water in to soak your socks. The harness tied around your waist and thighs is digging into your pants, which are rubbing and chafing your skin. Your back hurts from being on your feet all day, and your head is pounding. You usually get headaches when it rains. You are so fucking ready for this day to be over.

You stay steadfast nonetheless. Eyes focused on the door the target will be coming out of.

A few more minutes go by in silence when you hear the comm start to buzz, indicating someone was about to speak.

"Why can't orphans play baseball?"

You can't help the cheeky grin that creeps its way upon your face.

"Why?" You ask.

"They don't know where home is."

"Ghost," You say with a huff, attempting to hide the laugh trying to claw its way out of your throat. "Shut the fuck up."

"It's inappropriate to speak to your superior that way."

"Sorry, let me rephrase. Shut the fuck up, sir."

"Better."

You grin, holding the butt of your rifle up to your cheek in anticipation. Your finger reaches up and you adjust the scope. You close your left eye and squint your right as you look through the glass. You hadn't realized you never turned off your mic when Ghost crimes in again.

"Control your breathing, Sergeant. It'll help you focus better."

Your breath catches in your throat the moment is deep voice comes through the ear piece. Was the bastard really listening to you breath this whole time? Your tongue slides over your bottom lip, moistening the smooth skin there. You let a long breath come out before slowly breathing back in, reducing your heart rate. With your breath now cool and even, you sink back into the task at hand.

"Atta girl." Ghost whispers in that english accent, his voice sending a wave of chills down your spine.

Your chest pulls tight at his encouraging words, and if you hadn't been so focused on the door in front of you, you may have retorted something flirty back. But just as you were about the touch the communicator, the door in your sights swings open. You pause and hunch down impossibly lower as a tall man, accompanied by three other men stumble out of the building. You're so low now your chest could practically touch your boots. Your back is arched and steady, fingers itching to pull the trigger as you search for the man you have a description of.

The rain is starting to pick up now, thunder rocketing through the air as lightning snaps to the ground in the distance. Your breathing is steady and firm, flowing visible streams in front of your face as the chill in the air makes you shiver.

You're so focused on identifying the target in front of you that you don't hear the footsteps approach you from behind. They're quiet, trained and quick. You lock eyes on the target. A tall, skinny man. He has long, curly blonde hair that flows just past his shoulders. The identifying marker is a scar on the left side of his face. It's long–stretching from the bottom of his jaw all the way up and over his eye. It stops just above his eyebrow.

Rain is starting to smear over the scope lense, making it increasingly difficult to see the taget. After a moment, you lick your lips away, your pointer finger hones down on the trigger and starts to stretch it down. The man across the way reaches down for the door handle on the SVU next to him. You take one final breath in and hold, steady and true. Your finger pulls down, emitting a loud pop in your ear. It's quick, and the target immediately falls to the ground. Not a word, not a sound. Silence as his body hits the cold, wet concrete. The men around him start to panic and pull their guns out, rapidly stomping around in circles to try and spot where the bullet came from.

One turns in your direction. He doesn't see you, but starts running in your direction. You cock back and lift on your feet. You stand to almost your full height, knees slightly bent. You pull the trigger again. The second victim drops to the ground with a loud and painful grunt. At this point, you've given yourself away. Blood rushes through your ears as the two other men start sprinting in your direction. You slowly start to back up, cocking back yet again to let another bullet fly. Bullseye–a direct hit to another man's head. Your focus now remains on the last man standing who has gone into a hiding stance. You stand up fully and start to turn. When you do, you hear the sound of another rifle going off. Blood splatters across your face as a man–whom you had no idea was directly behind you–falls against the brick wall and his lifeless body slides down.

You gasp softly at the sight–having had absolutely no clue the man was behind you getting ready to attack. You look around quickly, trying to locate where the shot came from when Ghost's voice comes through the headset.

"Thought you knew better, sergeant."

Your breathing is heavy as you look up at the building across the street. On the fourth floor, Ghost moves forward to reveal himself through the window. The bone part of his mask almost lights up as he positions his rifle and shoots the last of the men on the street. He looks down at you as he lowers his rifle. His massive body towering in the window. His eyes lock with yours as your chest heaves up and down. The hood on your jacket has fallen now, and rain is starting to soak your hair. It sticks to your cheeks and neck. The water soaks your face.

"Were you watching me?" You ask, slight irritation in your tone.

"Had I not been, you'd be dead."

You scoff, clenching your jaw and rolling your tongue in your mouth as you keep eye contact with him.

"Get down here. Let's go."

Embarrassment was evident in your tone, but you couldn't hide that from Ghost. You couldn't hide anything from a man with his experience. So you gave in and let it out.

Ghost was down in your area within a minute or so, and he approached you slowly.

It was still raining as you and Ghost started walking towards the safe house. It was a small cottage on the outskirts of this shitty little town. Price said there was a shower, and that's all you could ask for. You walk silently next to your superior, who hasn't looked at or spoken to you since he came down from the building. You keep your eyes forward and alert as your heavy boots slush through the wet streets.

"Have you heard from Soap?" You ask softly.

"Affirmative. He's on the other side of the city with Price and Gaz. They're at the other safehouse." He responded in that deep tone.

He's safe. A gentle sigh of relief left your lips as you continued your walk to the safehouse.

The walk there stays silent. With Ghost keeping close to your rear, he almost hovers over you but he's slow. Which is unusual for him. On occasion, you could have sworn you could hear his breathing. It was loud and sounded labored. You raised your voice a little at one point to ask if he was alright and grunted back at you. Something seemed off.

After a couple hours carefully trekking through the nearly flooded city, you made it to the safe house. It was pitch black, away from any city lights to give you away. It was a small, one room cottage. When you opened the door, you cleared the room with your rifle. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to house the two of you until the morning. There was a small, two person bed, a run-down kitchen and a small, detached bathroom with holes in the door. It was filthy, but you were thankful to be out of the rain. You noticed a small fireplace that seemed clean enough to use.

You turn to Ghost, who is towering behind you. "I'll start a fire. You should try and get a hold of Price and let him know we're okay."

The large man grunted, and turned slowly in the direction on the bed. You watched his feet almost drag the floor. And when he sat down on the edge of the bed, you noticed him trying to conceal the hand that was holding his side.

You watch him for a few moments before turning your attention to the fire. It was starting to get cold. Worry about Ghost later so the both of you don't freeze to death here. Gathering what little kindling and firewood you could find, you begin to light the fire. First you pile in some pieces of wood you found here and there, and then you line the tower with what kindling you could find. Reaching into your soaked chest pocket, you pulled out the lighter you hoped wasn't flooded. And by some miracle, it wasn't. You easily ignited a small fire in the run-down fireplace.

Turning around, you glance over to see Ghost still sitting with his hand on his side. His hulking figure dips the mattress by a good bit.

"Fucking awful communicators." He grunts out before he rips the mic off his head.

"Not able to get a hold of Price, huh?" You say with a soft smile.

He shakes his head slowly. A grunt being his only response, again.

You stand from where you sit, starting to pull your weapons and gear off. Your weapons come first. You gently set the rifle up against the wall, and place your handguns beside them. Knives get stuck in a pile next to the handguns. You reach around to unstrap your vest, pulling it off your shoulders. It drops to the floor with a thud, which grabs Ghost's attention. Once your vest is off, you move to take your harness off. Ghost watches you through half lidded eyes. You prop one leg up on a grate for better access to the straps that trail from your waist, all the way down to your feet. Starting with the foot strap, you unclip the buckle. Your hands slide up your calves to your thighs, where the second set of straps dig into the skin there.

You quickly make way with those buckles and pull them down your legs. The last strap around your waist is easy. You stand and unclip the last buckle and let that strap fall to your feet. A relieved sigh leaves your lips as you turn to walk towards Ghost. He was still watching you, his hand holding his side. He hasn't moved–still sitting there uncomfortably, no doubt, in his full gear. You approach him slowly, hands hugging your hips as you test these waters.

"Let me see." You say gently as you stop directly in front of him. He's so big that he's still eye height with you, even sitting down.

"I'm fine." He grunts.

"Sir–"

"I said I'm fine. Tend to your own." He says.

"I just want to help, sir. "

He glances up at you through his mask. You're standing close–so close he can feel the heat radiating off your body. His eyes meet your face, his hand still hovering over the wound on his side.

"Do you trust me?" You ask gently.

He seems hesitant, no doubt unsure what he wants to do. But after a few moments of watching you, he lets the hand on his side slowly drop to his thigh. He breathes out slowly.

"Yes."

You take this moment to be bold for the first time with him. You suck a breath in and hold, slowly reaching forward and gliding your hands over his shoulders. They fall down his back to unstrap the back of his weapons vest. Your eyes bounce back and forth between his as your chest presses softly to the pack on the front of his body. You pull the straps up over his shoulders and let the best slide down his front, pulling it off and gently setting it down on the floor by his feet. Next, your nimble fingers work at the zipper on his jacket–pulling down until it unclips at the bottom. You run your hands over his shoulders again to pull the rain jacket off–setting it on the mattress next to him.

He looks bigger this way, which should be impossible. You just took eighty pounds of gear off his body but even now, in just his black pull-over hoodie and rain jacket, he looks bigger. His muscles are more defined. You can see the bulge of his strong pecs, the roundness of his arms.

You stand up to look at him once again.

"May I?" You ask softly.

He doesn't speak, but nods slowly.

You mind his permission and slowly grab the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up and over his chest. What reveals is a nasty stab wound–about three inches long. Blood trails all the way down to his jeans. Most of it is dry, but some warm blood indicates it's still bleeding.

"Jesus wept. You were going to leave this unattended?" You ask, glancing up to meet his gaze.

He brings his hand up to hold his hoodie for you. You remove your hand and reach into the first aid kit attached to his utility belt. Pulling it open and starting to look through the supplies.

"I've had worse." He retorts with a snort.

You can't help but smile gently, looking at him through the corner of your eye as you rummage through his bandage pack.

"You're an idiot."

"I'll be sure to remember that when I'm doing your performance review."

"In that case, be sure to remember this. I want a raise." You say with a small laugh as you set some bandages down on his thigh.

"A raise? You can barely do what you're told now. Only good employees get raises." He retorts, you swear you can hear the grin on his mouth.

"I've never been one to respect authority." You say, a cheeky grin meeting his gaze as your hand brings a sanitary wipe to his wound.

"Fuckin' Americans."

You laugh out loud this time, hand gently gliding over his wound–cleaning it with the sanitary wipe. You take notice of his build. He's strong, thick and muscular. He has some chest hair, and some hairs that trail under his jeans. He's incredibly built as well–of course he is. You knew that. He was a huge man, and incredibly strong. There was no doubt in your mind he was sculpted to the heavens. His skin is littered with scars. Some range from as small as your fingernails, to the size of your fist. You wish you could touch them all, to ask their stories. How did he get this one? That one?

The little shack is quiet for a few more minutes as you finish cleaning and treating his wound. You take it slow so as to not cause him any discomfort. Something tells you he really doesn't care, but you do. His eyes watch you through the hole in the skull of his mask. The black eye paint makes his blue hues glow in the moonlight. Rain patters softly against the metal roof. Your hand glides smoothly over the patch you're placing over the stab wound. You flatten your palm to smooth it out as much as possible. His breathing is steady as it fans against your cheek. Your proximity to him right now may have been alarming if you didn't know him well.

He stays still, watching you as he holds the hoodie up over his chest. His gaze brings goosebumps to the back of your neck, making your hairs stand up. You feel the need to break this awkward silence.

"This scar looks like it was painful." You say ever so softly, your free hand coming down to the four inch scar on his abdomen. Your palm flattens and your thumb grazes it gently.

"They were all painful." He says, a hint of tease in his tone. His voice has softened considerably.

"Yeah? I wouldn't have guessed, sir." You say, eyes flashing up to meet his as your mouth pulls into a sweet smile again.

"Simon. No need to be formal when we're alone." He says, followed by your name. It rolled off his tongue with ease–like it was the most natural thing for him to say.

"Right. Simon–" you say softly. You're not pulling apart the last part of the bandage to stick it on top. "--how did you get this one?" You ask, pointing to another scar on one of his pecs.

"In the Military. My first deployment. This was one of the first." He says.

"I remember those days. I was eighteen when I joined the Marine Corp. Got a few scars myself. Though, they're more mental than anything." You say, bringing a hand up to tap the side of your head and smile. "Yours have more meaning behind them, I think."

"Rightfully ugly things." He says, his eyes now following your hands as they work to cover the rest of his wound.

"Not at all–" you say as you stop your movements. Your eyes meet his when he takes notice and lifts his head to see you. "--I find them endearing."

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you–indicating he's unsure of the meaning behind your statement.

"I mean, they show your growth…as a man. You had to overcome each one of these–" you say as you move to continue wrapping his wound. "--they're all testaments to how strong you are. Mentally and physically. I don't find them ugly in the slightest."

Your hand stops moving as you've finally finished patching his wound. Standing up straight, you bring your eyes back to his. He slowly releases his hoodie to let it drop back down, but his eyes never once leave yours. He almost seems dumbfounded–at a loss for words. He just stares at you for a few moments before speaking.

"I don't understand." He says, almost a whisper.

"What's not to understand?" You ask.

His hands are laying on his thighs, but his fists are clenching and unclenching. He doesn't speak, so you take this chance to elaborate.

"Simon, I don't know much of your past. Well, anything about your past, really–" you say gently, your hands slowly glide up and test the waters, laying on top of his strong shoulders. "--I don't need to. I know the man you are now. Neither of us are perfect. But I do know that you're a good man, who will always have my back. That's all that matters."

His eyes never leave yours as your hands slowly glide over from his shoulders, and up his neck to rest holding his strong jaw.

"And I will always have yours. That's what being a team is all about."

You're holding his jaw gently; you can feel it clenching as he watches you through the skull mask. You're close to him now, closer than you have been. Your hips are slotted between his legs. His fingers reach out and softly graze the outside hem on your jeans–silently asking for permission. You glance down to his hands, before back up to his face and slowly nod.

His large hands come out to flatten against the outside of your thighs, softly squeezing the flesh there as they glide up and over your hips. They rest there, just above your ass. His warmth sends chills down your spine as he pulls you closer, your chest almost touching his. His palms spread against your curves and his thumbs dig into your belly.

"What's on your mind, sergeant?" Ghost asks, his voice barely above a whisper as your face inches closer to his.

You continue holding his jaw, keeping him attentive to you and you alone. Your breath fans over his covered lips. Your thumbs start to rub small circles over the sharp bones under them.

"I often think…" you trail off as your right thumb moves towards the center of his face--finding his bottom lip under the mask and pressing down. "...think about what your smile looks like. I reckon you're quite handsome."

"Is that right?" His voice is low, now laced with something akin to longing.

His hands give your hips a good squeeze, shuffling your lower half closer to his. His thighs trap you in their strength.

"Mhm." You hum softly.

You find yourself being bold again, thumbs leaving his lips to trail down his neck again. You locate the bottom of his mask and slip both thumbs under the hem. You stop momentarily, giving him ample time to stop you. Only, he doesn't. You can feel the moment his muscles tense and you hear his breath hitch. But his eyes never leave you, and neither do his hands. They squeeze you and pull you harder.

As to not betray his trust, your eyes slowly flutter closed. Your thumbs slip under his mask completely and gingerly begin pulling up. You pull it up and over his lips. Along the way, you can feel the defined muscles of his neck–the large veins. His chin and jaw are prickly, most likely from a recent shave. You pull it up to sit just in the tip of his nose. Eager fingers return to his chin, thumb coming back to slide over his lower lip. It's full, and warm. Feels slightly damp, like he had just licked it. His breath is warm on your hand as you continue to feel him here.

Your other fingers stretch to try and feel the back of his head, wanting to know if he has thick or coarse hair. Is it curly or straight? Blonde like his eyelashes or brown?

His hands become impatient and begin sliding up your sides. In the process, he pulls the skin-tight undershirt out from under your pants. Cold air rushes through and touches the little part of your belly exposed. As his digits continue sliding up, they eventually curve out and up both of your arms until they meet at the base of your neck. His fingers dig into the skin there and start to gently pull you forward.

In the shuffle, your hands slide down his chest and come to a rest on top of his biceps. The muscles flex under his hoodie as he pulls you forward. Your eyes stay closed as you feel his breath getting closer and closer to your face.

"Tell me to stop." He whispers. It was hoarse, and deep. Laced with lust.

You breathe out slowly, shaky and anxious.

And when you don't, he kisses you.

To say he just kisses you is a gross understatement to what the both of you start to share. Your entire body lights up, chills shooting down your spine like fireworks as he twists his head to the side and slowly licks your bottom lip. His lips are soft and giving. They flatten when they meet yours to cover as much ground as they can. You open your mouth, giving him full access to that wet cavern. Your mouth meets his again, more heated this time. His tongue slides inside your mouth with ease, shooting to fight and tackle yours in a fight for dominance.

Your fingers start to dig into his biceps, and that elicits a grunt moan from the man kissing you. He continues kissing you, tongue exploring your mouth as his large hands start to slide down your body again. His right hand slides behind you to trace your back, and his left opts to take the front. He stops at your breast–giving it a firm squeeze when he gets it in his grasp. Your nipple hardens under his firm touch, a small whimper getting lost in his mouth as he explores your body. The hand on your back pulls you impossibly closer, pressing your much smaller body tight to his.

He continues his assault on your breast for another minute or so, all while continuing to kiss you with a certain ferocity. His tongue leaves your mouth to lap up the saliva surrounding your lips and you erupt in shivers when the hand squeezing your breast starts to trail lower. He traces your curves until he reaches the metal of your belt buckle. His digits slowly begin to work at the buckle, setting the button on your jeans free once he's worked it open. He kisses you as he pulls the button open, his fingers grabbing hold of the zipper and slowly pulling it down. It feels like it takes him an eternity to work your jeans open, but your body buzzes with excitement when you hear the zipper coming down.

He stops for a moment, continuing to kiss you as his hand rests there on the buckle of your jeans. You slide your hand back up to his shoulders and softly rub the muscles there, pulling a quiet whimper from his lips. Yes, a whimper. From Ghost.

Fuck. If that doesn't get you wet, nothing will. But it does. In that moment, you feel the arousal start to ooze out of your cunt. You may have thought you started your period if you weren't sure it was because of him. You can't help but rub your thighs together when the pressure starts to become uncomfortable. Ghost takes notice of this and pulls away from you. His fingers begin to dance with the hem of your underwear.

"Tell me to stop." He repeats against your lips, still barely above a whisper. You can feel his eyes burning into you, but yours are still closed.

The cool leather of his glove meets with your sensitive skin when you don't answer him. Slowly, achingly slowly, his fingers sink under your underwear to find what he wants so desperately right now.

You whine when the leather touches your sensitive skin there, his fingers sink down through your folds to truly feel where you're warmest. His fingers glide easily through your arousal; the texture of his clove adds a bit more feeling to it.

"Fuck." he curses against your lips as he continues to rub around your needy hole.

He uses his fingers to collect your wetness and drags it up to that swollen bundle of nerves. He uses your own arousal to prepare you. His thumb begins to rub firm circles over your clit, causing you shudder and whimper in his arms. Your eyes squeeze shut harder, face heating up and turning red. Something you never thought he'd see—the freckles on your cheeks being revealed by the change in color on your face. Your fingers dig hard into his shoulders, holding on for what feels like dear life.

It's been a decade since you've been with a man. It's not something you were particularly proud of, because nothing could quite scratch that itch like the touch of a man. But your job kept you busy, and you felt just fine pleasuring yourself. You were always an independent woman. But fuck. Fuck. His touch felt like fire. Like pure bliss. The way he continued to draw tight circles over your clit while his palm flattened on your cunt and two large fingers sunk into your wet heat. They were so big, so strong while they pumped you full. It wasn't long before he found that spot too–the spongy piece of heaven deep inside your core.

Your head tumbles back on your shoulders, mouth falling open silently as his fingers work magic inside you. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your chest where it's open from the u-neck undershirt– peppering kisses on the warm skin there. Your hand involuntarily comes up to caress the back of his head. Such a sweet sentiment he does, while absolutely ruining your brief innocence with his fingers. You whimper and cry for him as he pumps and pumps and pumps.

You let out one harsh breath, followed by a quiet but sweet whimper– and out tumbles his name.

Simon.

That's all it takes to break him. He huffs a hard breath against your chest and kisses the skin one more time before pulling back, taking the hand out of your pants with him.

You gasp at the lack of contact. You almost open your eyes in the shuffle but as if he knew what was going to happen, his hand comes up to cover your eyes.

"Lay down. Now." He orders.

He guides you back a few steps, hand still over your eyes. You feel him stand, and he brings a hand to your shoulder to guide you back towards the mattress. Your legs hit the edge and cause you to fall to your back. His hand leaves your face, but you obediently keep them closed for him. He shuffles a bit before his hands are on you again, slipping your combat boots off one at a time. Then his hands are on your waist, pulling your jeans and underwear down in one swoop. Involuntarily, your hands shoot down to cover your core and you hear him grunt.

"Don't hide from me, sergeant." He says in the deep english tone.

His hands meet yours and wrap around them, slowly pulling them off your weeping cunt. A breath leaves his mouth harshly when you're revealed to him. He kneels instantly, large hands flattening against the inside of your thighs, at the apex of your legs and waist. On each side of where he just had his fingers deep. His hot breath fans against your sex.

"Fucking perfect." He says as he fits himself between your legs. His hands slide from the top, all the way to your calves to pull them up and over his shoulders.

You shudder in anticipation, back arching slightly in presentation. Ghost takes notice.

"Dirty girl." He praises

That's the last thing he says before he dives in. His mouth closes over your swollen clit, tongue circling you in a delicious dance. Your back immediately arches even more, muscles tensing down below. His tongue is smooth as it glides so elegantly over that center of pleasure. He moans into you, drinking the taste of you in. The top half of his face is still covered, only letting the bottom half of his face free so he can eat you out like this.

Your hands desperately search for purchase. They start by clenching the bedsheets, before twitching hard and moving to lay on your tummy. His hands find yours quickly and he presses down, anchoring your much smaller hands under his to your tummy. His fingers thread through yours and give a reassuring squeeze. It's odd. You'd never think of him as the gentle type. But he always seemed to surprise you.

Your hands start to close on his head, holding him still right where you want him. Anxious fingers gripping the mask and holding him down. He moans again, the vile wet sounds of his dirty act echoing through the room as he pulls you closer to an orgasm. His hands hold you steady as he pushes his face in deeper, completely enveloping his face in you. His cock grows achingly hard in his jeans, throbbing to be set free. One of his hands leaves yours to come down and insert two large fingers in yet again.

Something white and hot starts to stir in your lower belly. Like a thread being pulled tight on each end, ready to snap at any given moment. Your cunt starts to clench impossibly tight around Ghost's fingers and he moans into you yet again.

"Atta girl. I can feel it. Give me a good one." He encourages through licks.

Fuck, his voice. The tone and the accent–they do something to you. His voice repeats in the back of your mind as your muscles tense all at once. A hoarse whimper leaves your lips as he nibbles down on your little clit, cunt pulling tight and hot as the thread finally snaps and he gets what he asked for. You cum all over his face, body convulsing from the over stimulation as he continues to suck on you through the pulses. Your fingers lock dead in his mask–you think you can feel his hair. It's thick.

He groans into you, his voice vibrating your lower body as he slows his pace and inevitably decides to take pity on you and stop.

You feel his mouth leave your cunt as you struggle to catch your breath. His hands leave you too. Slightly concerned, you start to sit up. Your eyes are still closed. His hands stop you from standing up.

"Bloody delicious you are, sweet girl."

His hand caresses your jaw, and you hear him fumbling with his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper coming down.

"Open."

Your eyes flutter open and you glance up at him standing tall over you. His mask is pulled back down to conceal his mouth. You lock eyes with him and stare him down as he begins to pull his cock out of his jeans. You keep your eyes on him until he breaks contact for a moment. He glances down towards his cock and then back at you. You take the hint and slowly lower your gaze until you meet his cock in all its glory. He's big–covered in veins. His tip is red and smeared with pre-cum. Gods, you got him this wound up?

"You want this?" He asks.

You don't have to answer him. The lustful look in your eyes as you glance back up at him is enough to make his cock jump. He growls low in his throat.

"Turn around. Bend over."

Not having to be told twice, you do as you're told. You stand and turn so your back is facing him. You bend down, revealing your cunt from behind as you find your place bent over the bed for him. His massive form stalks behind you–like you're his prey. Just waiting to be captured. His macho, mean, attitude has always sent chills down your spine. This situation was no different.

His hand finds your waist, gripping on your side as his other holds his heavy cock up to position it at your entrance. While he rubs the head of his cock through your slick to prepare it, the hand holding your waist moves to the center of your lower back and his palm flattens. He pushes down, forcing you to arch in presentation for him. He curses under his breath. Fucking perfect. Beautiful little cunt.

His heavy boots shuffle closer as the head of his cock begins to breach your tight hole. Your breath catches at the sudden intrusion. The hand on your lower back holds you steady as he starts pushing forward until he's fully sheathed inside you. You let a moan slip when the hand on your back starts to rub up and down you slowly, almost in a comforting manner.

"Fuck." He groans out when he bottoms out.

He starts with deep thrusts, getting your cervix used to the invasion. Your knees begin to buckle. No need to worry though. His hands both move to either side of your waist to hold you up as he begins to thrust a little faster–pulling out farther and re-sheathing himself. His back straightens and his head falls back in pleasure as soft groans come from under the mask. Your moans join him as the wet sounds of your combined arousal fills the room.

You moan sweetly–which teases him. A strong, capable woman like yourself reduced to a whimpering mess under her Lieutenant. It spurs him on and makes him needy.

He starts thrusting at a more harsh pace now. His hips collide with yours as the bed rattles on its old, dilapidated frame. The metal digging into the wooden floor. His hands squeeze your hips tight and he pulls you back onto him in time with his own thrusts.

"Insatiable woman. Drive me mad with this body." He grunts as his hips slam into yours.

"Simon–" you whimper out, cut off by a particularly sharp thrust.

"You--you know what you do to me, woman?" He starts between harsh breaths as he pounds into you. "Can't keep my eyes off you. You're a goddamn distraction–" he continues to moan loudly, not caring if anyone may hear. "--walk around in those tight ass jeans….n'that low cut shirt. You do it on purpose, don't you?"

"M's-sorry sir–" you manage to whimper as he continues to pound into you.

"The fuck you are." He says before another hard thrust. His grunts, leaning forward to grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back.

The same sensation from earlier starts to boil over again. The thread is pulled tight once more, ready to snap at any given moment as he continues to hammer into the sensitive spot inside you. His breathing is heavy, grunting loudly in your ear as pounds down into you. You start to tighten around him once more and once again, he takes notice right away.

"Already, sweet girl? Can you give me another good one?"

You whimper his name.

"Words."

"Yes." You moan.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Simon."

"Good fucking girl."

He relases your hair and stands up straight, anchoring down on your hips and letting absolutely fucking loose. He starts pounding into you ruthlessly. His hips jackhammering into yours and rendering you speechless. His harsh thrusts steal the air from your lungs. All you can do is lay there, drool like a dog and take his cock the way he needs to give it to you.

Your orgasm snaps through you and burns like wildfire. Your body rocks violently back against his and he groans when you start to clench around him.

This was unlike any experience you've ever had. It was hard for any of your past partners to get you off, period. Ghost just made you cum twice. And violently.

"Fuck. Where do you want it?" He asks.

It takes you a few hard thrusts to try and speak–trying to gain your composure and suck some air back in your lungs to speak.

"In-inside–please–" you manage to moan.

For the first time this evening, his movements falter. He seems unsure as he tries to regain his rhythm.

"That's–no, no I can't….you'll…" he grunts as he continues to rut into you.

"Safe. I-I promise." You whimper out. "Wanna feel you."

"Fuuuuck." He groans out, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his release. His hands come up to grab your shoulders, anchoring down as he continues fucking your raw.

"Don't move. Don't fucking move, sweet girl. Gonna--gonna fill you up, make you mine."

"Simon--" you whimper out.

That last whimper is what seems to take him over edge. He groans your name one last time before his hips bottom out again and come to a screeching hault. You feel his cock start to throb before the warmth of his cum begins filling you. He shoots what feel like endless streams of his while juices inside until it starts overflowing and running down your thighs. You lay there on your stomach trying to catch your breath. Not long after, you hear the heaving mess of a man who just rearranged you collapse to his knees behind you. You hear him turn to sit on hid ass, shifting to lean up against the bed.

You lay there exhausted, listening to the sounds of his labored breathing. You're too worn out to move, so you opt to stay where you are. Not even caring what a mess you look like.

After a few minutes you feel yourself beginning to drift off to sleep. The exhaustion is taking over. It gets quiet after a few more minutes and you feel completely relaxed. You're so out of it, you don't notice Ghost getting up from his spot on the floor.

You don't feel him softly cleaning you with one of his extra shirts.

You don't feel him start to re-dress you.

And you don't feel him lay you down on the bed, when he climbs in behind you and wraps his arms around you.

And in the morning, it suprises you when he asks you about your time in the United States Marine Corps.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #smut #Egon

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