#slow shift so im on my posting grind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojisun · 1 year ago

Text

MAK!!?<“_#)!#) THE GOOFY ASS GULP I DID WHEN I SAW U POSTED A GHOST FIC, N THEN WHEN I SAW THE TAGS????? HELP MEEEE

okok this is gon be a loooong comment im sorry omg but its just???? this is so fucking good. it’s so fucking perfect. exceptional. life-changing, even!!!! mak my love u are one of the best writers i know — the emotion, the build up, the characterization that you put into your works??? how can i not be in awe every damn time!!!!! how can i not adore you?????????

first: THE PETNAMES??? its probably a conglomerate of my issues but i fuckin swooned when i saw ghost call her ��kid” JHAHDHF HAD ME HOWLING

ALSO I HAD TO PUT MY PHONE DOWN WHEN HE WALKED INTO HER MASTURBATING. I WAS CRYING LAUGHING IN EMBARRASSMENT BUT GOD IK THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GO DOWN AND I WAS SHAKING, ALL EXCITABLE

“Cute little thing.” He comments, tilting his head to look at the dildo hanging between his thick fingers.

i choked so hard when he said this. why was it so hot?? why is it a reminder of his bulk. his size??? i was biting the drawstrings of my hoodie, giggling n everything mgjwrokf it was badddd

“Let me try.” He says, the words falling out to sharp and harsh as though they’ve burst out of his mouth before he can stop them. It’s not like Ghost to speak without thinking it through, perfectly calculated, and your breath catches a little at the offer.

I AM SUCH A SUCKER FOR THOSE TROPES WHERE YOU’RE BLATANTLY SEEING HOW READER AFFECTS GHOST!!! LIKE I GET SO WEEPY AND MUSHY, AND THIS ONE!! THE WAY HIS DESIRES ARE MUCH GREATER THAN HIS USUAL COHERENCE???? IM GONNA EAT MY FIST. EATING MY FIST!!!

But this, right now, kissing with Ghost, makes you feel as though you’ve been doing nothing but fumbling your way through all of those encounters, like you’ve been kissing wrong all this time.

It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body until you find your fingers grasping desperately at the short cotton sleeves of Ghost’s t-shirt where it’s stretched over his thickly muscled arm.

i felt breathless myself when reading these paragraphs because this is exactly how i think ghost kisses like hhhfhfh!!!! but more than that, this is exactly how i envision the way ghost reduces you to. THE WAY!!! HE OVERWRITES HER PAST EXPERIENCES WITH ALL OF HIM — OVERWHELMING BUT IN A WAY THAT BURNS. MAK!! I AM SO UNWELL

“I’m gonna ruin you,” Ghost whispers, and it sounds like a promise. He drags his lips up your throat, then talks against the corner of your mouth. “You won’t be able to touch yourself again without wishing it was me.”

im nOT EVEN LYING I HAD TO THROW MY PHONE AWAY TO MUFFLE MY SCREAM. HES GONNA RUIN HER. RUIN HER NOT JUST SO HER NEXT PARTNERS WILL FALL SHORT, BUT SO THAT SHE WONT EVEN TOUCH HERSELF WITHOUT NEEDING HIM?!!>!!@/!!!1 the possessiveness and the carnality of this statement. this promise. god i need him

“I know,” He murmurs, almost mockingly soft with you. “I know, you want it. Gotta give it to you slowly.”

CROONING AND MEAN GHOST MY BELOVED. GRINDING MY TEETH SO HARD MY BRACES SNAP

“All that messin’ around with those plastic cocks, but you’re still this tight for me,” He says, his voice so deep that you feel it reverberate into your bones. “Deep breath.”

LIVES WERE CHANGED. ALTERED. I PHYSICALLY CLAWED AT MY PANTS FROM HOW MUCH THIS MADE ME CHOKE. FELT MY HEART LODGE INTO MY DAMN THROAT. and hhhhhgfhhghghhghghs “deep breath”????? the way!!!! the way ive always envisioned him to talk you through it and this!!! this made me a wreck for reallll

“Ghost-!” / “Shh.” He grunts. “Call me Simon when I fuck you.”

i swooned. i honest to god swooned. i love love when fics do this thing w his names. when HHHHH when he acknowledges the difference and makes his partner break the barrier. when he himself craves that shift in intimacy. my god mak im spiralling

“Never seen you look like this,” he grunts. “All fucked-out and perfect.” / “Gorgeous girl,” He grits out, jaw clenched. “Squeezin’ so tight. Fuck. Gonna make you cream.”

the praises. the dirty praises. im gonna hurl with how big the ball of need is thats sitting in the pit of my stomach

“God, that’s a sight. All for me, yeah?”

THE POSSESSIVENESS MY GOD. HES SO INSATIABLE LIKE HES NOT EVEN DONE FUCKIN HER, NOT EVEN DONE CLAIMING HER, AND HES ALREADY CLAIMING HER AGAIN AHHHHHHHHHH

finally: THE AFTERCARE??? WHEN SHE SAID SHE THOUGHT SHE LEFT AND HE SAID “NO.” ‘SIMPLY’. LIKE THERE IS NO OTHER QUESTION, NO ROOM FOR DOUBTS. HE WONT LEAVE HER. HE WONT JUST WALK AWAY. NOT NOW OR EVER- (and their cute banter at the end PLEASE ITS SO FUCKING CUTE)

MAK. MY BELOVED MAK. YOU DELIVERED, SERVED, ATE, DEVOURED ONCE AGAIN. thank you so so much for this beautiful fic. kissing u and ur beautiful mind because what the fuck. i am obsessed

ミi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!

🍓 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, size kink, virgin!reader, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, some mild second-hand embarrassment perhaps, sex toys, edging, failed masturbation attempts, ghost takes your virginity and also maybe ruins you for literally anybody else ever again

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

The ceiling over your head is drab grey and water-stained, the old paint peeling away in strips. It’s an ugly sight, but you barely see it; you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

The sheets beneath you are uncomfortably damp with your sweat, but you don’t have the energy to roll over just yet. You feel hot and itchy with frustration, and you scowl up at the ceiling above you as your fingers curl into fists. But even though you feel like laying in your now grubby-bedding for the rest of the evening, you can’t let yourself wallow. There’s going to be a knock on your door any minute, and this is not a position you want to be found in.

With an irritable groan, you haul yourself off the bed and to your feet. Your muscles ache and you feel too warm, but you reach for your clothes anyway. The worn cotton of your shirt feels scratchy against your skin, but maybe that’s just because you’re still over-sensitive and irritable.

You can never quite bear to look at the aftermath of what you’d been doing, so you avert your eyes as you gather up the bright silicone and plastic devices littering your mattress. It’s embarrassing now that the adrenaline has worn off and disappointment is beginning to set in, so you end up gathering them all up more roughly than necessary.

The term ‘toy’ seems incongruous to you. It sounds too childish, too immature. It makes you sound like a stupid kid, as though you aren’t a young adult past twenty fumbling your way through sexual self-exploration. It’s embarrassing, and much more frustrating than you ever would have predicted – despite all of your clumsy, desperate attempts at pleasuring yourself, you’ve never quite managed to reach that peak of pleasure you’ve heard other people talking about.

You grumble quietly to yourself as you try to wipe away the sticky lube that’s still coating your thighs. Your muscles are a little achy from all the tensing you’d been doing trying to come with that stupid vibrator, not even accompanied by the satisfaction you had been hoping for.

It’s not as though you’ve never gotten the opportunity to experiment with others; you’re not unforgivably ugly, you don’t think you have a bad personality, and for the past few years you’ve been surrounded by military men that certainly aren’t known for being picky. And it certainly isn’t like you haven’t received your fair share of offers.

It just never seemed right. You’re not overly concerned about ‘saving’ your virginity or anything like that; it’s just that putting yourself into such a vulnerable position is scary. You’re aware of the irony, of course, that you’d trust many of these people with saving your ass from catching a bullet in the field, but allowing someone to see you so intimately feels like a step too far.

You’re still sweaty and flustered and naked when a knock sounds from your door, and you freeze. The doorknob turns, but doesn’t open; in that moment, you’re deliriously grateful that you had turned the lock – it’s something that you’ve forgotten to do on far too many occasions.

“Lass, you in there?” Oh god, it’s Soap.

Cursing quietly to yourself, you jolt into action. Your pants are crumpled at the bottom of your bed where you had shed them, and you hurriedly gather them up and struggle your way back into them.

“Gimme a minute!” You yell, praying he doesn’t notice the somewhat frantic edge to your voice.

You stagger slightly as you worm your way into your pants, and then lunge to grab the stupid dildo you’d just been trying to use. You feel your skin prickle with humiliation as you try to force the stupidly large silicone cock into your already full underwear drawer, jamming it shut roughly to hide it from sight. You don’t want to even imagine what Soap might have to say if he were to see what you had been doing; you think you might have to go full deserter mode and abscond into the wilderness.

“Did ye forget about drinks?” Soap’s drawl carries through the thickness of the door. He doesn’t sound even slightly put out – if anything, he sounds a little amused.

You pause, close your eyes, sigh. Fuck. You had not, in fact, forgotten about drinks, you just thought you had more time.

“No, I– just a minute!” You yell back, shoving your shoes on and trying to fix your hair.

You had completely lost track of time, and now you don’t even have time to rinse your sweat-damp skin off – you’re going to have to sit through drinks with the squad all grimy, like a physical reminder of what you had been up to for the last two hours.

When you finally unlock the door and wrench it open, Soap is standing on the other side tapping a staccato rhythm on his thighs with his open palms. He’s dressed casually in just blue jeans and a black muscle shirt, and he gives you a look of semi-disbelief.

“What the hell were you—”

“Gym.” You interrupt, landing on the only explanation you can think of for your sweaty skin and messy hair.

Soap blinks, but apparently decides it’s not worth the effort to continue that line of conversation. He just shrugs, then turns and starts making his way down the hall, slowing his pace for you to catch up.

You exhale; Soap can be like a bloodhound when he suspects there’s gossip to be had, and you’re relieved to have dodged a round of his relentless questioning. You suppose he can be surprisingly tactful sometimes, and he knows you well enough not to press you. Or, perhaps it’s because you come across as such a non-sexual being that it doesn’t even occur to him that there may be another explanation.

There’s an unofficial tradition that when the squad is on base, everyone gathers in the sparsely decorated recreation room for drinks and card games on Thursday evenings. It usually makes for an enjoyable night; Gaz and Soap can always be trusted to supply whatever bottles of alcohol they’ve managed to get their grubby little hands on, and it’s always amusing to watch Captain Price get increasingly more irate as Soap pretends not to understand the rules of whatever card game they’re playing. The whole illicitness of having contraband on base only makes the whole thing more exciting; the CO’s on base often turn a blind eye to the activity, so long as it’s kept under control.

But tonight, you’re distracted.

The others had offered a bit of good-natured ribbing when you and Soap had turned up late, but before long you’re all settled in a loose circle on the poorly-stuffed couches in the corner of the room. Gaz has already unstoppered a bottle of bourbon, and is attempting to convince a visibly unimpressed Price to play a game of Kings with them. You curl up on one of the worn-out couches opposite them, watching with a small if slightly stiff smile.

The atmosphere is relaxed and pleasant, almost enough to make you forget about the irritating buzz of unfulfilled arousal under your skin. You shift, trying to keep your movements small, subtle, to avoid the notice of your team. Your denim jeans are nowhere near as comfortable as usual, and you wonder briefly if you should have simply worn your cargo pants just to avoid the harsh friction of the denim.

You sit there feeling… unmoored. You fidget, drink your smooth bourbon in sips in an attempt to avoid wincing, and try not to look as obviously out of place as you feel. It’s been like this, recently. Joining the task force has been an accomplishment for you, a source of immense pride – you’re the youngest member (just narrowly beating Gaz for the title) and a woman to boot, and though the squad has never treated you any differently it’s hard to kick the belief that you have something to prove.

You engage in conversations the best you can, but you’re distracted and you know it must be obvious. Your preoccupation gets you a couple of furrowed brows and glances, but there seems to be an unspoken agreement to give you some space.

You don’t even realise the extent of your distraction until a big body settles down on the loveseat next to you, and you jolt. True to his name, Ghost had appeared near silently, escaping your notice until he lowers himself down to sit next to you.

And damn, you forget how big he is sometimes. It’s an average sized loveseat, but the lieutenant takes up over half of it. He’s obviously being mindful not to consciously crush you, but he’s not being overly cautious when it comes to avoiding touching you. He’s dressed unusually casually, and his thick, muscled thigh is wrapped in blue denim as it presses carelessly against yours.

“You alright?” He asks, his voice low and smooth as he nudges your knee with one of his big knuckles.

You haven’t been a member of the task force for long, but you would know Simon Riley by his hands alone, by the earthy salt-spice in your nose as he leans a little closer to peer at your face. You tilt your head up, unable to stop the small reflexive smile that breaks over your face at the sight of him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, hurriedly straightening up where you’re sitting. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

His sudden proximity isn’t doing your current state any favours, and you take a quick sip of your drink in an effort to collect yourself. It’s taking a herculean effort not to stare at the way his biceps are bulging against the straining material of his black cotton t-shirt.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ghost asks as he stretches out his legs with a tired groan. The sound is gruff and gravelly, and you feel blood rush uncomfortably to your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You say quickly.

He doesn’t believe you, that much is obvious, but Ghost never pushes and he rarely speaks more than he has to. He just gives you a glance, brief and knowing and far more penetrating than it should be, before turning his head back so he can watch the boys playing their card game. He’s holding a crystal tumbler filled with dark amber liquid, but he hasn’t yet pulled his mask up to drink from it.

Your eyes drop to the thick, pale scars that mar the backs of his hands. You trace the path of the scar tissue, eyes lingering around the thick knuckles and broad palms, the way that he holds the glass so casually confidently. He’s got nice hands, probably made all the more attractive by the fact that you hardly ever get to see them. Seeing Ghost without his usual long sleeves and gloves makes you feel like a Victorian pervert snatching stolen glances at a passing lady’s ankles.

A quiet snicker causes your eyes to dart back to his face, and you’re mortified to find that he’s caught you staring.

“What’s got you in such a mood?” He asks. Even through the mask you can tell that he’s smirking, though it doesn’t feel as though he’s making fun of you.

“Just one of those days, I guess.” You say without meeting his eyes.

It’s an evasion at best, but Ghost nods ponderously as though he’s giving this great thought. His stare is penetrating, those big brown eyes watching you as though he can see right through you. Maybe he can. You try not to get too caught up staring at his pale eyelashes, darkened by smears of eyeblack.

“Did something happen?” He asks. The question is casual enough, asked as he lazily swirls his whiskey around in his glass, but his gaze is sharp and assessing.

“No.” You sigh, finally looking properly at him.

It’s a little frustrating, but the squad has been like this with you from the start – protective. Your whole military career has consisted of you veritably clawing your way up through the ranks, and you’ve been surrounded by coarse, gruff men that have underestimated you all your life. 141 is different – they don’t baby you, but the way they treat you is unmistakably softer than how they typically treat each other. The concern can be touching, if a little tiring sometimes.

And maybe it’s because he’s your lieutenant, but Ghost’s attention has always been just this side of overwhelming. It feels like you’re pinned beneath his dark eyes, his gaze somehow sharpened as he watches you from beneath his more casual balaclava, the skull pattern printed on his jaw adding another layer of intimidation. But his shoulders are relaxed as he sits next to you on the small couch, settling the weight of his attention over you like a blanket.

You’ve always respected him, admired him. How could you not? He’s practically a living legend, his reputation larger than life, and he’s scary as fuck. But he’s also softer than you had expected, gentle when he needs to be. He still rides you hard in training, pushing you to your limits and taking no quarter, but you can’t begrudge that. Not when you know he’s working to keep you alive. Perhaps that’s how the attraction had first bloomed; once it started, it was hard to stifle.

Ghost hooks one finger into his balaclava and pulls it up just high enough to expose his mouth, and he presses his glass to his lips to take a sip of his drink. You struggle not to stare like a moron, but he makes it so difficult. His lips are full and pink, and there’s a rugged scar bisecting his top lip. His stubble is dark blond and short, and it doesn’t hide the various scars and marks that decorate his strong jawline.

You almost jolt when he pulls the mask back down, hurriedly averting your eyes and forcing yourself to look out across the room. It’s not just the 141 that’s decided to take up in the rec room this evening; there are soldiers from other units littered all around the room, laughing and joking, playing lazy games of pool on the table in the corner and smoking. The smoke alarm has been jimmied off the ceiling and the window is open, and even Price is turning a temporary blind eye to the blatant disregard for regulations in favour of puffing on one of his cigars.

Ghost shifts on the worn-out fabric of the couch, and lays an arm over the back of the headrest behind you. It’s a casual, thoughtless movement, but it ends up pushing his body slightly closer to you in a way that makes you feel as though you’re about to catch fire.

You cross your legs, but the seam of your jeans presses into your pussy in a way that sends a frisson of heat up your spine. You hurriedly uncross your legs, and attempt to school your expression into casual neutrality as you force yourself to tune back into the conversation.

“–ach, c’mon, Captain,” Soap is saying in a wheedling tone that he probably thinks is endearing. “One round of strip poker won’t kill ya–”

“No.” Price says in a voice like thunder, brooking no argument as thick cigar smoke pours from his nose. It gives the impression of an enraged bull.

Soap either is ignorant to the warning, or is choosing to wilfully ignore it. Judging by the sly gleam in his eyes, you can guess which. He turns to you then, and waggles his eyebrows.

“C’mon, lassie, you’ll play, won’t ya?” He asks with a grin that promises trouble. “I guarantee you’ll be a sight better than any o’ these louts.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gaz pipes up, already grinning. “I was looking forward to seeing the Captain in his jocks–”

Price promptly knocks his drink back, before pushing himself up to his feet with a grim groan. “Right. That’s enough of you lot for one night.”

Gaz and Soap break into peals of laughter, settling back into their seats as they watch their captain march away.

“Offer’s still open, love,” Soap says, still snickering when he looks over to you. “Wanna play?”

Ghost shifts, his wide thigh knocking into yours as his arm stretches behind your shoulders. He lets out a short exhale through his nose, but when you glance up at him you find him as stoic and hard to read as always.

You just roll your eyes. It’s not the first time that they’ve tried to rope you into strip poker, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You can always trust Soap to start stripping his clothes off when he’s three drinks in, whether he’s playing a game or not, so it’s not surprising that he tries to involve other people in his bad decision making.

And it’s not a big deal, really. There’s been countless missions and operations that have ended up with all of you staying in uncomfortably close quarters with each other. You’ve seen them naked countless times, and the same with them for you. It’s never meant anything, and you know that Soap’s teasing is exactly that – you don’t think they’ve ever once looked at you through any sexual lens at all.

But even still, the joke flusters you more than it should.

“Think I’ll be joining Cap in going to bed, actually.” You say, clearing your throat and setting your glass down on the low table in front of the couch.

The playful booing from Soap doesn’t do much to change your mind, and you stick out your tongue at him and Gaz as you push yourself up from the couch. You try to ignore the loss of heat at your side when you move away from Ghost, though you can’t help but glance back at the lieutenant. He’s not looking at you, his gaze directed into his glass. You try not to feel disappointed about that.

You say your goodnights, and retreat from the rec room.

By the time you make it back to your dorm however, you’re already playing the conversation back over in your head and wondering if you had made the wrong decision.

Perhaps you should have just played the damn game. Despite your inexperience with all things sexual, you’re not actually all that shy about your body. On missions, you and the squad are often forced into tight quarters, and they've all seen you in various stages of undress before. It's hard to be self-conscious around a group of people that have seen you at your worst, whether that’s soaked in blood, unshowered, sleep-deprived, or injured.

But you were so keyed up from your earlier failed attempts at masturbation that the thought of being so physically exposed in front of your squad is mortifying. It feels as though your unresolved arousal is still simmering through your veins, turning your thoughts slow and soupy and stupid.

It’s not so surprising. Your preferred method of dealing with stress is coming back to your private bunk and messing around with your vibrator until you’ve forgotten all of your problems. The problem is, you’ve never quite been able to reach that climax you’ve heard so many talk about.

It’s not for lack of trying, and it’s not as though you haven’t come close to that toe-curling finish you crave so much. But it’s like there’s some sort of block, something that always holds you back before you can go plummeting over that edge. Something that makes the buzzing pleasure dissipate before your eyes like smoke, leaving you worked up and so frustrated. It’s probably inevitable that all those ruined finishes have built up like sludge in your veins, leaving you slow and distracted and irritable.

You eye your underwear drawer thoughtfully as you perch on your bed, before reaching inside and drawing out the same dildo you had been using earlier. You wonder if it would be too much to try again tonight – the muscles in your calves still feel a little bit over-worked from training all day, and you have a feeling that straining in an attempt to reach an orgasm you’ll likely never attain will only make it worse.

But the thought of Ghost in that stupid tight cotton shirt stays firmly stuck in your mind, and that really makes the decision for you. Before you can think too much about it, you’re sliding your jeans off and climbing atop your mattress. The sheets are dirty anyway, after all. May as well have some fun before you change them.

You slide your panties off next, then kick them to the side. It’s difficult not to feel a little pathetic, but you push those feelings aside. So what if you have an embarrassing little crush on a superior officer? It’s not like that’s unusual within the military, and you’re quite certain that dealing with all that unresolved attraction like this is the most sensible thing you can do.

You fish out the bottle of lube you had been using earlier, and drizzle it liberally along the dildo’s length before setting it aside on the blanket. While you’ve used your dildo plenty of times, you still struggle to grow accustomed to the stretch of it. It’s a good dildo – a vibrating one in the rabbit style, designed to stimulate your g-spot and clit at the same time. It was damn expensive too, but it’s one luxury you’re willing to indulge in.

You close your eyes, slide it between your legs, and hit the power button. A low bzzz emanates from between your thighs; you jerk at the immediate barrage of pleasure, your abs tightening and your legs twitching apart, creating more room between them.

Your body is quick to react, sweat prickling under your armpits and your heart thudding quickly in your chest. You can feel electric pleasure coursing through you as you press it against your clit, your toes curling into your sheets.

You bring the vibrator lower, your clit throbbing a little at its sudden absence before you press it inside, sighing. It slips inside much too easily – you’re almost embarrassed by the easy slide. You’re so wet, both from your failed attempt at masturbation earlier and from sitting beside Simon fucking Riley all evening. It’s a deeper, subtler pleasure now, and you clench around it with a quiet moan.

You cycle through the vibrator’s different settings, making it buzz at odd intervals or lower intensities in your usual attempt to build up an orgasm. You wish, with sudden and mortifying clarity, that it could be replaced with a person. More specifically, a person with big hands and firm muscles that still have some soft give to them, and a toe-curlingly gravelly voice.

You squirm, shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrator inside you. Without meaning to, you imagine Ghost. It’s hard not to, considering your close proximity to him all evening. Your cheeks heat as you imagine Ghost actually being here, watching you all still and silent with that penetrating dark-eyed stare of his.

You huff out a breath, arching off your bed. This is always the best part. You have to ensure that you relish the build up, before it all fizzles out from between your fingers. You whimper, soft and quiet, clenching around the stiff silicone as it buzzes away inside of you.

Right as you press the soft little vibrating bunny ears to your clit, there’s a knock on the door. Then, horrifically, like a scene from your fucking nightmares, your door opens.

“Kid, you–”

Ghost is already half-way through the door when he lays eyes on you, and then he goes completely still in your doorway.

“Fuck.” You hiss, scrambling to knock the stupid thing off.

You fumble for it, panicking. The end is slippery and you can barely manage to grip it. When you finally do, it’s difficult to pull out, your body still attempting to hold it inside. It’s another agonising few seconds to turn it off, the vibrator unfortunately featuring one of those awfully thought-out designs that makes you have to cycle through every single one of the settings rather than hit an off-switch.

And then, finally, silence.

Ghost is living up to his name right now; he’s as stock still and silent as a dead man, stiff as a board as he stares unblinkingly at you. You’re not even sure that he’s breathing, but you can see the whites of his eyes as he gapes at you, frozen.

You stare back at him blankly, hoping that your bed comes to life and swallows you whole just to put an end to your mortification.

At last, Ghost blinks, then finishes his sentence. “You left your phone.”

He lifts his arm. In his large, thick fist, is your stupid goddamn phone. You must have left it on the couch when you had gotten up to leave. You might have wondered at the lieutenant voluntarily bringing it to your dorm for you, but you’re hit with a wave of humiliation so strong that it wipes your brain completely blank.

“Ah.” You say, and your voice cracks. “Thanks.”

There’s a moment of mortifying silence, and then Ghost steps into your room. Your heart jolts right up into the base of your throat as he closes your door behind him. The click of the door is as loud as a gunshot in the silence that’s settled over the room.

Ghost still hasn’t blinked. He’s watching you with eyes that look almost black in the dim light of your room, intense as a predator.

“I–” You attempt to speak, and your throat clicks dryly. “I didn’t–”

Far too late, you realise that your legs are still splayed open. You snap them shut, inhaling a choked breath through your nose.

“I thought I locked the door.” You finish lamely.

Ghost apparently decides to simply disregard that, which you’re honestly a little grateful for. Instead he steps towards you – the enormous bulk of him feels as though he’s completely filling every bit of space in the room, sucking out all the damn oxygen.

“...‘S this why you were so distracted this evening, hm?” He says as he approaches the bed. “You were in a mood ‘cause you wanted to get back to playing with yourself?”

It’s not a question, exactly. At least, it’s not phrased like one. Ghost’s tone is knowing, with an undertone of gruff amusement. You’re certain that you’re not imagining the rough, breathless quality to his voice either, though the thought sends nerves fizzing through your bloodstream.

“No.” You deny uselessy; it’s plainly obvious what you were doing, after all. “No, I just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish. His eyes are still glued to you, even though your thighs are now pressed together. Before you can stop him, he reaches down and takes a hold of your hot pink vibrator where you had been trying to hide it beneath your thigh.

“Cute little thing.” He comments, tilting his head to look at the dildo hanging between his thick fingers.

Mortification burns through you. A panicked sort of screech escapes you and you yank it back out of Ghost’s stupid big hand, shoving it under the blankets.

Perhaps if it had been anyone else, your humiliation wouldn’t be burning quite so intensely. But this is Ghost – your lieutenant, the gruff man that you’ve looked up to ever since you joined the task force. He’s not a man famed for his patience, nor for his eloquence, which is making this situation all the more unbearable.

“Lt,” You wheeze, scrambling to sit up and cover your pussy with your hands as you squeeze your legs closed. “I swear I didn’t– I’m sorry–”

But Ghost doesn’t seem interested in your apologies. He’s still watching you as though he can see right through the damn blanket, as though he’s measuring you up and trying to come to a decision about something. In that moment, you hate your reaction to him – no matter how humiliating this situation is, you want him to approve of you, even now.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He grunts, and then he sits down on your bed.

You gape at him. It feels as though your brain has stalled; you’re pretty sure you’re not reacting correctly right now. You probably should have screamed when the lieutenant walked right into your room without knocking. That surely would have sent him straight back out again. And even now, you should probably be ordering him out, telling him to leave.

But you don’t.

“I was.. um.. finished anyway.” You manage to croak out. You sound so pathetic that you nearly make yourself cringe.

Ghost doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, his eyes as dark as ever beneath the mask. For a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all.

But then he says, “Didn’t look like you finished to me.”

Blood rushes to your face so quickly that it makes you light-headed as you catch his meaning. Oh, what the fuck. This is just adding salt to the wound now.

“I wasn’t trying to–” You start, then cut yourself off. “That’s not why I was– I was just trying to relax.”

In the ensuing silence, you realise how silly you sound. At the very least, Ghost doesn’t laugh; he just tilts his head to the side, consideringly.

“Let me see.”

You gape at him. “I– sir–”

“Let me see, sergeant.”

It’s not an order. Not quite. Ghost’s voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You have room to refuse. You could tell him to get out of your dorm right now, and he’d do it. Knowing the lieutenant, he’d never bring it up again, either.

You drop your knees apart, spreading your thighs in an unpracticed, self-conscious sort of motion.

Under the lieutenant’s sharp gaze, your skin prickles and your nerves strain. Even sitting down on your bed, he’s a veritable behemoth of broad shoulders and thick corded muscle. His hulking form towers over you even now, and you feel so damn small as you lay there propped up against your pillows in nothing but a t-shirt.

Ghost has seen you naked before, obviously. You can’t afford to be prudish in the military, where you never know when you’ll next have true privacy, and you’ve changed out and showered with the squad countless times. It’s never meant anything, and the men in 141 have never made you feel anything less than comfortable with them.

This, however, is different. This isn’t just a case of catching a quick glimpse of your nude form as you shower in the group shower rooms when you’re out on missions – your whole damn pussy is out on display for him, still glistening wet and sticky from your ministrations and the lube you’d used.

Ghost’s inhale is as loud as a thunderclap. You’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in another person’s presence. You feel a little ridiculous laying like this as he watches you, but another part of you feels so humiliatingly desperate for some kind of approval from your lieutenant.

At first, that approval is nowhere to be found. Ghost is notoriously difficult to read, and you’re beginning to sweat as you lay there waiting for a response – any response.

At last, he makes a noise. It’s part grunt, part hum, and part groan.

“You’re still wet, sergeant.”

Are you imagining it, or is his voice an octave deeper than usual?

Your eyes trace his face, trying to imagine what he looks like beneath the mask. You can see the suggestion of his nose, the square curve of his jaw. His darkened eyes are watching you so carefully that you feel as though you’re physically being pinned in place.

You swallow. “It’s just– I–”

“You didn’t get to finish.” Ghost interrupts, with the air of completing your sentence for you.

You try to speak, but nothing more than a strangled sort of murmur escapes. You swallow hastily, then try again.

“I wasn’t going to. Sir.” You tack on the title at the end as an afterthought, but this whole situation is so far beyond professional that you probably needn’t have bothered. “Finish, I mean. I… I never do.”

You’ve admitted it before you can really think about it, and then you regret it wildly. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve overstepped a boundary, but then again the boundaries are currently so blurred that they’re virtually impossible to discern.

“You never finish.” Ghost repeats it. Slowly, staring right at your face, as though he’s confirming what you’ve just said.

It sounds so much worse in his deep, gravelly voice.

Embarrassment blooms, thick and sickly in your stomach. Your legs start to twitch closed, too embarrassed to be having this conversation with your cunt bared like this, but then Ghost’s big paw of a hand reaches out to settle over your knee, keeping you open and exposed. It’s so rare to see his hands ungloved, and the bare skin of his callous-roughened hand feels almost scorching hot against your inner knee.

“I don’t– I’ve tried,” You say, and you can’t help but feel as though you’re just digging yourself further into a hole, here. “But I don’t– I’m not able to. I mean, I’ve come close, I’m just not able to… you know.”

You trail off lamely, feeling like the biggest fucking loser ever. Why are you telling him this? Why the fuck haven’t you reacted properly, and kicked him the hell out of your room?

Deep down, a shameful little part of you already knows the answer to that. You’re feeling awfully, sickeningly hopeful. Having Lieutenant Riley in your dorm, sitting on your bed and staring so hungrily at the wet, swollen parts between your legs feels like something out of your wildest wet dreams.

His eyes flick towards your pink silicone rabbit dildo, half-hidden under your blanket, and he grunts consideringly before reaching out and taking it into his hands again. It’s standard-size, but it looks small in his big hands.

“You ain’t doin’ it right, then.” He says, so bluntly that you just blink at him. “Show me how you use it.”

For a brief, wild moment, you wonder if you’re experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations right now. Surely you can’t really be experiencing this right now – and yet the lieutenant is still watching you, and you’ve never disobeyed a direct order before.

He hands you the vibrator, then waits expectantly.

And… well. All you ever try to do is impress him.

You shuffle your legs open a little wider, ignoring the flustered heat that scalds your cheeks. You’ve never been all exposed like this in front of another person, and the weight of Ghost’s eyes on you is reminiscent of being under a spotlight.

You swear his eyes darken even further when you press the stiff silicone rabbit dildo to your cunt, if it’s even possible for that gaze to get darker beneath the thick balaclava and eyeblack smeared over the narrow strip of skin that’s visible.

The dildo sinks in so easily that it’s almost embarrassing, and your breath catches both from the stretch and the way Ghost leans in a little closer to see. Far from turning you off, you feel your body throb in response to his proximity, and your cunt flutters pathetically around the plastic toy. You shift, attempting to get a little more comfortable, but you can’t dispel the nerves fizzing in your blood as you attempt to push the dildo a little deeper under Ghost’s sharp gaze.

His big, hulking body is so perfectly still as he watches you that it’s making you a little nervous. The only reaction that you get from him is a small, considering hum, but even then you can’t figure out what it means. Your movements are a little clumsy, so hyper-conscious that he’s watching every single thing you do that you end up fumbling a little. He’s looking at you in the same way he assesses threats, his intense dark eyes examining every movement and reaction you make. It makes you feel small and jittery, especially when you realise that he’s judging you by what you’re doing.

“You gonna turn it on?” He asks, and oh god his voice has definitely dropped lower and huskier. You know you’re not imagining it.

You can’t even bring yourself to respond with words. You just make a strangled sort of sound of agreement, then clumsily hit the on button. The toy buzzes to life once more, and your toes curl absent-mindedly into the sheets as the soft silicone bunny ears pulse against your clit.

It feels nice, but you can’t manage to concentrate on the feeling. Hyper-aware of Ghost’s attention, you let out a quiet moan as you shift the vibrator inside you. It’s a little exaggerated, but you can’t help it – you feel like you should be putting on some kind of a show.

You glance back at Ghost’s face, trying to guess what he’s thinking; even through the mask, you can tell that he’s frowning. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. Have you done something wrong?

“This how you usually do it?” He asks.

You swallow thickly, feeling a bit stupid. “Um.. yeah.”

Ghost grunts. He doesn’t sound impressed.

“No wonder you can’t come.” He says wryly.

You go still, eyes widening. In the silence, the bzzzzt! of your stupid vibrator is louder than ever. A sudden wave of shame washes over you, and you start to close your legs again in an effort to block the sight of the toy stuffed into your pussy.

“Oh,” You snap sourly, your embarrassment making you irritable. “So you’re the pussy expert now?”

That startles a loud bark of a laugh out of the lieutenant, a sound so rare that you find yourself desperately trying to commit it to memory.

“Think I might know a bit more than you, sweetheart.” He says. He’s relaxed now, his wide shoulders rolling back. He’s always so effortlessly confident, always so assured in himself and his abilities in a way that makes you feel like a silly little girl.

Judging by the way the corners of his eyes are just slightly wrinkled beneath the mask, Ghost is smirking at you. He finds this funny.

“What about when you’re with other people, hm?” He asks, and his eyes drop back down to try and get a look at you again. When he realises that your legs are clamped tight together, he reaches out to guide your thighs apart again. “No one’s ever impressed you?”

His hands are big and rough and hot, and your willpower crumbles like wet paper as you allow him to open your legs all over again. The vibrator is still buzzing sadly inside you, mostly forgotten about; the stimulation is nice, but it’s never been enough for you.

You huff a weak laugh. You should have known that this would come up, and now you find yourself floundering a little.

“No one’s ever tried.” The confession comes out like a whisper, like a secret.

You can see the moment Ghost understands; realisation settles heavy over him like a physical weight, and the whites of his eyes flash as they widen just slightly. For a moment, he says nothing at all. He doesn’t move – it doesn’t even look like he breathes.

“No?” He says, except it doesn’t really sound like a question. It sounds rough, and you can feel the almost convulsive motion of his fingers tightening around your knee.

You shake your head wordlessly, beyond embarrassed now.

Ghost’s wispy blond eyelashes flutter softly as his eyes dart down to your pussy, still humiliatingly stuffed with your stupid little vibrator. He takes a moment to stare, then looks back up to your face. He’s so frustratingly confident about everything he does, not an ounce of shame in his posture even as you wilt beneath him.

“Never messed around with anybody?”

“No.” You say, and it comes out on a wheeze. He holds your gaze without faltering, and you realise that he’s expecting you to elaborate. “No, I– it just never happened. I was never… um, I was just always too busy, I guess.”

“Too fussy, more like.” He mutters, quiet enough that it seems like it’s a comment meant just for himself. You don’t know how to take that, so you chew your lip and stay quiet.

His eyes drop down to the vibrating dildo again, and you recognise something that looks like a flash of hunger. It feels like there’s pressure building up beneath your skin, tight and hot, and your thighs fall open a little further. You feel raw and so, so exposed, but you don’t even care when Ghost is looking at you like that.

“Let me try.” He says, the words falling out sharp and harsh as though he they’ve burst out of his mouth before he can stop them. It’s not like Ghost to speak without thinking it through, perfectly calculated, and your breath catches a little at the offer.

How could you ever say no to that? You don’t really think that he’s going to succeed in making you come – at this point you’re pretty sure your body is a little bit broken and you’re just not capable of orgasming at all, and that’s whatever – but the chance to get fucked by Ghost? To lose the lingering vestiges of your viriginity to your ridiculously hot, mysterious, massive lieutenant? It’s like something out of a dream.

“Okay.” You choke out, nodding stupidly. “Yeah.”

You want to be touched. You don’t think you’ve ever actually felt the yearning for physical contact this strongly in your life; you’re practically holding your breath as you wait for Ghost to make a move.

Finally, he reaches out. His first move is to pull the stupid little dildo out of you, still vibrating, and you feel yourself clench convulsively around nothing as he leaves you empty and wanting. He spares it a brief, evaluating glance, and you feel yourself burn as you realise he’s examining how you’ve soaked the toy.

He tosses it to the side, barely even taking the time to switch it off first, then turns his attention back to you. He’s got that same kind of laser-focus he usually only gets out on the field, and you take a moment to feel incredibly grateful that you’re never going to be on the receiving end of that terrifying scrutiny on the battlefield.

It feels like your skin is too tight for your body, every nerve and synapse strained and primed as you wait for him to touch you. But he’s slow about it, as though he just wants to torture you a little bit.

When he finally reaches out to lay his hands on you, he doesn’t touch where you want him to.

His callous-roughened hands land on your hips, and pull you down the bed towards him. In the same move, he half-climbs up on the mattress, his huge form practically dwarfing you. Your head and shoulders are still cushioned by your pillows, but your legs are splayed open around Ghost where he kneels on your bed.

You glance down, unable to help yourself, unable to resist trying to catch a look at the outline of his erection pressing against his trousers, and oh. Fuck. He’s big. You knew he’d be big, of course, he’s big all over, but Jesus Christ, maybe you’re a little out of your own depth here–

His thick fingers tangle in the hem of your t-shirt, stretching the fabric out. “Take this off.”

You scramble to do as he says, grabbing at your top and pulling it up clumsily. You realise a moment too late that you’re not wearing a bra, but you suppose at this point it hardly matters. You drop your shirt to the side, and try not to feel too horrifically self-conscious beneath the burning hot gaze of the lieutenant.

Though you can’t see Ghost’s face, you can hear the soft exhale he blows out through his nose, just faintly muffled by the fabric of his mask. His eyes are trained on your chest, darting between each of your tits as though he can’t decide which one to settle on. After a long moment, he reaches forward and cups your left tit with one of his enormous hands, thumbing absently at one of your nipples.

It’s silly; Ghost has touched you before. Lots of times. A nudge of the elbow accompanied by a conspiratorial eye roll, a clap to the shoulder, rough hands pulling you to your feet after training or applying white-hot painful pressure to injuries. But this – you’ve never been touched like this before, not by Ghost, not by anyone.

The shaky breath you let out as his big, rough thumb rolls over your firm nipple comes out as a strangled sort of moan that honestly startles you a little. The noise catches his attention, and he snorts.

“Can’t be that sensitive.” He mutters, but then he reaches to thumb at your other nipple as though trying to be sure.

It’s because you’ve never been touched like this by another person before, you tell yourself. Truthfully, you’ve never even touched yourself like this before. You’ve never bothered to play with your own tits; you’ve always just gone straight to breaking out your vibrators. Now, with every brush of Ghost’s scarred fingers over the tight bud of your nipples, you think you must have been crazy to skip over this part of yourself. But then again, there’s no way that your own hands on yourself would elicit the same sharp jolt that shoots from your breasts down your spine.

“Sir–” You breathe, struggling not to squirm where you’re laying. You wonder, somewhat deliriously, if it might be rude to demand your lieutenant stuff his thick fingers into your pussy. You can already tell that they’re going to feel so much better than your own.

Ghost glances up at you, his eyes unreadable as he watches you bite at your lip. God, his little wispy eyelashes are so blond—

“What?” He says, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. “Say it.”

“Want to try your fingers.” You breathe before you can second-guess yourself.

The laugh that rumbles out of Ghost’s chest is low and smoky. It’s probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, so big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. You’ve witnessed those hands crack bones and snap necks and break down doors, and yet you can’t help but wonder desperately what they’re going to feel like when he starts touching you properly.

He adjusts himself on the bed; he’s a big man, hulking and huge as he kneels on your mattress, his weight causing it to dip. His palms wrap around your ankles with ease, and he hauls you into place with a grim efficiency that goes straight to your pussy.

“Big brute.” You say, a little breathlessly.

He ignores you, using his arms to hold your legs open and wide for him. And all you can do is just lie there as he stares, because goddamn it’s like he’s been carved from steel and you can’t break out of his grip. Not that you want to break out of his grip anyway, but you’d really appreciate it if he actually got moving instead of just staring.

“Fuck,” He grunts after a moment, with the air of talking to himself. “Been hiding this all this time, huh?”

“Jesus.” You breathe in response, subconsciously letting your legs drop open even more.

He makes a low noise of appreciation, and finally reaches out to touch you properly. One thick thumb swipes through the seam of your cunt, and you feel the way he’s smearing the clear sticky wetness that’s been leaking steadily out of you. With his now slick thumb, he drags up towards your clit and circles it with agonisingly light pressure.

You let out an embarrassing choked whine, your toes curling at the sensation. Somewhat ironically, Ghost is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your attempts, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow.

“D’you always get this wet?”

You can’t even tell if he’s asking you mockingly or if he’s being genuinely curious; it feels like every inch of your focus has narrowed down to the feel of his big thumb rolling those tight little circles around your clit, his touch scorching against you.

It’s not exactly surprising that Ghost is good with his hands. You’ve seen the way he handles weaponry, locking and loading and aiming to fire with the kind of swiftness that comes from muscle memory, working with unwavering speed and precision. He’s the same in hand-to-hand combat, moving with aggressive fluidity that overwhelms his opponents. You’ve caught hits from him before in training, and you know from experience that a punch from those big hands feels like getting hit by a cinder block.

But even knowing how deft and skilled his hands are, it knocks the breath out of you when he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, still rubbing steadily at the swollen bump of your clit.

When you exhale, it accidentally comes out as a moan. Your cheeks burn, but there’s really no space in your brain right now for embarrassment to sink in. Two of Ghost’s fingers are the equivalent of at least three and a half of yours, and you feel yourself break out into an overwhelmed sweat when they twist and rub against the sensitive squishy spot in the front wall of your cunt.

You’re so damn worked up, your arousal coiled like a knot in your lower belly from your failed attempts to get yourself off all day. Your back curves, humping yourself near mindlessly back up into his hand as he plays you like a goddamn instrument.

You barely even have time to consider how unfair it is that Ghost is so good at playing with you like this when he doesn’t even have a pussy himself, because then he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop–” You start to protest breathlessly, your chest still heaving, but the quick glance the lieutenant sends you has you falling silent.

Ghost glances down at his fingers. They’re all glossy from fingering you, and he takes a moment to eye up the way they glisten in the dim light of your bunk. You might have felt self-conscious about it, if you couldn’t see the unmistakable gleam of hungry interest in Ghost’s dark brown eyes.

He wipes his hand on the crease of your hip, but you don’t even get the chance to protest before he reaches up to hook his fingers into his mask. You go still, holding your breath in surprise as he pulls the material up until it bunches up around the bridge of his nose.

And that’s– well. You’ve seen his jaw before, and his mouth (Jesus, you had seen it earlier that evening, when he had been sipping on his smooth whiskey of choice), but the sight of his strong jawline and blond stubble and corded scars on his pale skin always manages to knock the breath out of you. And this time, he’s rolled his mask up even further than before, revealing a nose that’s clearly been broken at least once before.

You probably shouldn’t stare so blatantly, especially knowing that Ghost always takes such pains to keep his face covered. You’re not even sure if the other guys on the team have seen his uncovered face, except for Price, and you know that they’ve developed a habit of averting their eyes when he pulls his mask up for whatever reason. It’s a habit that you never quite managed to develop yourself; you’re never able to stop yourself from gaping at him like a moron, drinking in all of the minutest details. He’s never said a thing about your penchant for staring, so you can only hope that he’s chosen to ignore it.

You’re so busy staring that it takes you by surprise when he grips your jaw with one massive hand and pulls you into a rough kiss.

The sound you make is small and startled, but it’s swallowed by Ghost’s demanding mouth. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but they feel scorching hot against yours. You reach up to grab at his arms – mostly just to ground yourself – but you find yourself almost immediately distracted by the firm bulge of his biceps beneath your hands.

Listen, you’ve kissed people before, plenty times. You’re in your early twenties, and just because you’re inexperienced sexually it doesn’t mean that you’re inexperienced full stop. But this, right now, kissing with Ghost, makes you feel as though you’ve been doing nothing but fumbling your way through all of those encounters, like you’ve been kissing wrong all this time.

Ghost doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. It’s like a full-body experience with him; he puts his hands, his whole damn body into the kiss. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backwards into the pillows beneath you. At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Ghost’s hands running over you, stroking you sides and squeezing at your breasts and groping at the soft flesh of your hips and ass.

“Hah,” You gasp out when Ghost’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you feel yourself grow embarrassingly wetter, just from a little kissing.

“You good?” Ghost grunts into your throat as he nips at the base of your jaw.

“Uh huh.” You manage to get out, still clutching at his meaty arms like they’re a lifeline. “So good.”

His breath is hot on your throat when he rumbles out a deep chuckle, and then his tongue flicks out against your earlobe. It makes you forget how to breathe for a second, and you’re distracted when Ghost’s hand changes course, easing beneath your legs so he can press his fingers against your clit again.

Then he pauses, and his fingers slide lower, lazily hooking back and inside you. You tremble, horny and humiliated as you realise that your arousal is glistening all over your damn thighs, impossible to miss.

“Fuck,” Ghost mutters. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

“Hnng,” You whimper like an idiot as his fingers return to your clit, now slick and slippery. “I’m just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of you again and kisses you hard. The soft breathy noises you make are muffled into his mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically. He’s built like a damn mountain, your thighs stretched wide to accommodate the bulk of him as he settles against the core of you.

He likes that – he presses in close, and you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing up against you through the roughness of his jeans. You’re so sensitive that the coarseness of the fabric is almost unbearable, but you’re able to ignore it because you’re so distracted by the sensation of his erection because holy fucking shit that can’t really be how big he is.

You gasp, the sound high and breathy, and you try to grind against Ghost, but it’s impossible because he’s so fucking heavy and he’s pinning you down on the mattress beneath him. Instead, all you can do is squeeze your legs and pull Ghost in even tighter, increasing the pressure between the two of you.

The wave of desire that rocks through you almost pulls you under, and you swear you might have actually gotten so horny that you blacked out for a second, because from one second to the next Ghost has somehow managed to muscle his way back down between your thighs so that he’s eye-level with your cunt.

“What are you–” You start to say, but then he loops his forearms under your knees to tug your legs wider, and you realise just how close his face is to your pussy. You swear you’re actually pulsing with arousal, and you wonder a little wildly if he can see that.

“Oh, fuck, yes — please,” You blurt out, before Ghost has even gotten his mouth on you. He chuckles, low and amused. His grin looks predatory, but in this moment you really don’t mind being the prey — not if it means you’ll be devoured by that mouth.

Then Ghost’s mouth is against you, wet and burning hot. You cry out, barely noticing as Ghost throws one of your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open.

It’s just the right side of overwhelming. Ghost’s mouth feels like it’s going to swallow you whole – his tongue is huge and flat and firm as he licks over your clit, making your thighs quake on either side of his head. It’s entirely unlike any of the fumbling masturbatory attempts you’ve ever made – you always enjoy messing around with your various little sex toys, but you’re swiftly beginning to realise that it could never compare to real human contact. Or at least, contact with Ghost.

His hands move from your waist to your asscheeks, his big palms squeezing the plump flesh there before using his grip to pull your body closer so that he can bury his whole face between your legs. The rougher material of his mask presses harshly into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, but you hardly even notice it.

Your pussy has never been this wet before; it feels like you’ve sprung a goddamn leak. You might have felt embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the way Ghost groans against you, his wide tongue laving flat and rough against the seam of your cunt as he practically gulps down all the sticky arousal you have to give him.

“Oh god– fuck! Sir…” You sigh, spreading your knees farther apart so that Ghost can wedge his head further between your thighs.

Your ears burn as your room is filled with sounds of him tonguing at your cunt, the lewd wet squish of him working you over until you’re keening, your hips twitching clumsily until his hands tighten where he’s gripping the plump flesh of your ass to keep you still. Then all you can do is twitch as he licks over your clit in repetitive lapping motions, working in circles and then dipping down to shove his searingly hot tongue inside you. You can feel his teeth press against your labia even as he sucks at your clit, and the sensation sends hot bolts of pleasure rocketing down your spine.

Though you don’t mean to, you’re pretty sure that you make his job harder. You can’t stop wriggling, tossing your head back against your pillows and squirming on Ghost’s tongue in a wild overstimulated dance, like a fish caught in a net.

Finally, Ghost seems to have enough of your unco-ordinated flailing attempts to grind against his face. He reaches around your thigh with one arm to reach your clit so he can keep it stimulated as he gulps at the sticky sweetness of your cunt like a man possessed – the action also works to keep your hips pinned down and still. You stop your frantic moving, but your spasms and sounds increase tenfold.

You can hardly believe it, but you feel something coming. A sweet, torturous build up starts in your belly, and you sweat and gasp as he licks and suckles at you relentlessly. You’ve never found yourself in this state so quickly before, with your legs trembling and your breathing heavy and shaky.

“Oh.. oh…” You breathe, beginning to arch your back.

You know this feeling – this is where that sweet climax builds and builds, only to dissipate at the last agonisingly close moment. But this time, with Ghost’s big head between your thighs as his mouth moves against you, sucking, tasting, eating up everything you have to offer, the breath-taking pleasure doesn’t show any sign of slipping out of reach. It feels like for once you might actually reach that peak.

But then, right as you’re certain that you’re about to tip over that long-awaited coveted release, the bastard pulls away.

“No!” You practically shriek, attempting to sit up. “No, I was so close–!”

“Lie back.” Ghost orders, his voice like the crack of a whip.

You drop back obediently before you can even register that you’re moving, so conditioned to react instantly to that tone of voice coming from Ghost’s deep rumbling baritone. Your eyes are wide and betrayed as you stare at him, admittedly a little baleful.

God, but it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s staring up at you from between your legs like that. His eyes are dark and hungry beneath the mask, and since it’s all pushed up and rumpled around his nose you get a toe-curlingly good look at his lower face. His chin is wet and smeared with your slick, and his lips are plump and pink and swollen from all the kissing and suckling he’s done to you. In a moment of near-delirium, you think that you understand now why he covers his face – his mouth is pretty in a way that shocks you, in a way that needs to be hidden for decency’s sake.

“You’re gettin’ greedy,” He grunts, turning his head and sinking his teeth into the crease of your thigh just to make you yelp. “Wait for it, love. It’ll be worth the wait.”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, so all you can do is lay back and hold on for the ride. He presses his mouth to you again, and you whimper softly as he tongues at your clit.

“No one’s ever eaten you out like this?” He asks, the words muffled into the damp curve of your thigh. It’s stupid, because you know he knows the answer to that is a resounding no, but it seems like he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“No.” You say, your breaths sawing their way out of your chest.

“Hnn.” He makes some kind of grunting sound against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. “That’s why you’ve been so tense, huh? So fuckin’ desperate for someone to touch you?”

“That’s not– ‘m not tense,” You manage to get out, your breasts heaving as your thighs tense up where they’re thrown over his shoulders. “Maybe.. Maybe you’re too relaxed.”

Ghost huffs a hot little laugh at your hip because you both know that couldn’t be further from the truth. You doubt anyone has ever accused Ghost of being too relaxed before, but you don’t have time to feel stupid for it – not when Ghost is devoting the full force of his attention on you, deep breaths huffing against the wet skin of your pussy and making you shudder.

“That’s it,” He croons, his voice uncharacteristically soft and lilting. The rumble of it ripples through your limbs like lapping waves, his battle-roughened palm stroking and smoothing down your ass and thigh as he hauls you closer. “Relax, sweetheart. Fuck, such a pretty pussy. Fuckin’ criminal of you to keep this hidden away all to yourself.” And then, quieter, “Fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet.”

You’re not even sure that he’s talking to you. It seems more as though he’s talking to himself, and it just happens to be you he’s talking about. Your cheeks burn as the feeling of vulnerability sets in, but you keep your legs spread wide as he kisses your clit with his swollen pink lips. You want so badly to be good, for him to be pleased with you, that you push past your embarrassment as best you can.

There’s a budding anxiety in your belly that Ghost is wasting his time here. As much as you crave his touch and the build up, you worry that he’s going to get frustrated with you and your inability to actually orgasm.

But Ghost doesn’t seem to be in a rush. He seems perfectly fucking happy between your legs, and even with his mask all clumsily rucked up around his nose he presses his face into your pussy with his eyes heavy-lidded and hazy. Even when you shift a little in an effort to get him to go a little harder or faster, he just pins you still and continues at his own leisurely pace.

When he reintroduces his fingers, pressing inside and stretching you out with a light sting, you hiss and try to lift your hips again. His rough calloused knuckles brush against the inside of your soft inner thighs, making them quiver as he goes three fingers deep.

“Shhh, atta girl.” He mumbles into you, his words coming out wetly muffled since he doesn’t even both pulling his face back. “Fuckin’– shit, so good.”

The praise shoots liquid and molten through you, and you have to bite back a pathetic keen as you pulse around his fingers. You’re sure he must feel it, because he lets out an answering rumble and laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks.

“Oh god–”

“Shhh.” Ghost scoots forward so your knee can hoist over his shoulder. Then he angles his chin to kiss the skin on the inside curve of your knee as he pumps into you with slow, slippery fingers and ungodly squelching noises that only sparks you hotter. You can’t even tell if it’s sweat or tears dotting your face anymore.

Though Ghost’s eyes are heavy-lidded and a little fogged over, he hasn’t looked away from you once. The focused intensity of his gaze spears you through, because you’ve never been looked at like that. No one has ever seen you like this, no one has ever put effort into you like this, no one has ever been so determined to please you before. You don’t know how you’re ever going to recover from this; you have a terrifyingly distinct impression that he’s going to live up to his promise to ruin you for anyone else.

It feels as though your blood is boiling beneath your skin, and you nearly sob when Ghost pulls back. You’ve never been so close, and you want to scream when he takes his gorgeous fucking mouth away from your clit.

“Fuck.” You wet your lips, realising you were panting like a dog and your mouth is bone dry. “Fuck, Ghost, just—”

“Quiet, lovie.” His reply is hoarse and firm, his throat working hard to swallow as he peered down between you, his clever thumb delving slick circles over the taut bump of your clit, his other three fingers fucking with easy rhythm and purpose. It’s maddening, it’s infuriating, it makes you feel as though you’re about to break apart.

His fingers are pulled out, and then you feel firm pressure pressing into you yet again. Your head lolls as you attempt to sit up, your eyelids fluttering as you realise that he’s pressing your stupid dildo into you again.

“Oh, you bastard–” You start to complain, but Ghost doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak properly.

The dildo slides into you so easily, your sticky slick mixing with his spit making the slide almost effortless. You sigh, a build-up of pressure making your whole body feel as though you’ve been stretched out and pulled tight.

Now that you’ve been pushed to the edge, you linger by it. Ghost keeps you on that edge for what feels like hours, until your breaths are burning in your chest and the ligaments in your calves are screaming from all the straining you’ve been doing. Every roll of Ghost’s thumb over your clit sends sparks racing through your nerves, and your breathing is harsh and uneven as Ghost starts fucking you with the stupid vibrating dildo. The rhythm he sets is firm and unrelenting, pushing the silicone toy in and out and visibly relishing the wet squish of your cunt as it takes it deep.

Ghost huffs against the wet skin of your inner thigh, making you shudder. It seems like he’s enjoying this as much as you are, judging by the subtle roll of his hips against your mattress as he absorbs himself in fucking you with the dildo.

He experiments with the angle, adjusting the dildo until you cry out, jerking against the bedding, and whining “There!”. You needn’t bother telling him, though; Ghost has a sharp eye, and he’s so goddamn attentive. He’s already repeating the stroke, pushing the dildo in and bumping it against the same sensitive spot he had hit before.

It feels good, but it’s not enough. Now that you’ve felt the firm hot pressure of his fingers spreading you wide and the wet hunger of his mouth devouring you, you don’t think anything else will do.

He shifts, you catch the rolls of his hips against your mattress again, and you feel as though you’ve caught fire. You think of the glimpse you had caught of his hard cock, pressing against his jeans and making the fabric stretch taut, and you find yourself speaking without thinking.

Ghost pushes the dildo in once more, and you reach down to grab at his wrist as you ask breathlessly, “Can I try yours?”

He pauses; goes so still that it’s honestly uncanny, his eyes practically boring holes into you as he stares at your face. You grow flustered, your own eyes widening in response to your own words. Just because he’s deigning to touch you with his fingers and his mouth, doesn’t mean he’s actually planning to fuck you. Jesus, he’s your fucking superior officer. What were you thinking?

“I’m sorry,” You squeak. “That wasn’t appropriate. Fuck, forget I said that–”

Even beneath the mask, you can see the bob of Ghost’s Adam's apple as he swallows thickly.

“You sure?” He interrupts your rambling before you can get started. “I don’t... ‘m not good with virgins.”

There’s… there’s so much you could say in response to that. Namely, he certainly doesn’t seem like he’s bad with virgins, as evidenced by the throb of arousal still pulsing through your soaked cunt. He’s just had you sobbing at the mercy of his fingers and mouth, and all he has to say when you ask for more is that he’s not good with virgins?

Instead, what you say is a rather lame, “I’m not technically a virgin.”

Which is true. Sort of. Based on a technicality – you had bullied your damn vibrator through your stupid hymen years ago, and you’ve always thought the idea of virginity was a stupid one, anyway.

“Plastic cocks don’t count, darlin’.”

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed as humiliation burns through you. Jesus, okay. That’s just mortifying.

“Oh, you think your cock is special, then?” You scoff, attempting nonchalance.

Ghost shifts, letting your legs drop from his shoulders, and kneels up on the mattress so that he’s looming over you. Fuck, every time you get a visceral reminder of how big he is, you feel a little faint. It’s like having a veritable wall of muscle caging you into your bed. Your thighs are spread wide to accommodate the size of him, and you find yourself absolutely captivated by the sight of him with his muscles straining against that stupid tight t-shirt, still panting lightly from his greedy gorging on your cunt.

He reaches out and drags a hand slowly from your cunt up over your belly, between your breasts, up over your sternum, to rest over your collarbones. It’s gentle – he doesn’t put an iota of pressure against your throat – but all you can fucking see is the swell of his bicep and the dark ink of his tattoo and the prominent veins running down the chiselled muscle of his forearm.

Good fucking lord.

“You’ll find out.” He says.

And oh. Okay then. Yeah, you sure fucking will.

He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, and you can’t help but strain to try and watch. He pushes them down carelessly around his thighs, but doesn’t make any move to strip them off any further. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re laying on the bed completely nude and exposed, while Ghost has only pushed his jeans down far enough to pull his cock out, but you don’t have any time to feel self-conscious about it.

His cock curves up against his belly, red and twitching. He’s fucking rock hard, and bigger than you had been expecting, bigger than any of your stupid little toys. Your mouth goes dry, and your eyes widen comically. Fuck. No wonder he’s confident. He’s not lacking in any way.

“D’you’ve a johnny?” He asks, one big paw of a hand taking his cock and stroking lazily at it until a bead of pearly precum oozes from the angry red head.

You’re distracted for a moment, staring at the way he fists his cock, before you blink back to yourself. “What?”

“A condom.” He enunciates slowly, as though speaking to someone he thinks is a bit thick.

“I know what you meant,” You snap, embarrassed. “But– no. Why would I? I’ve never…”

You can see the way his eyes crease and realise that he’s frowning beneath the mask, and you’re hit with a sudden bolt of panic – is he going to change his mind now? You can see the hesitation in the lines of his shoulders, but you think if he changes his mind about fucking you, you might just die.

“It doesn’t matter,” You blurt, “You don’t need one. I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

Ghost cocks his head, but remains still. It’s almost unnerving, and you feel your toes curl into the bedsheets as you wait for an answer. He looks fucking predatory, hulking over you like a fucking behemoth as he watches you assessingly. You try your best to look confident, but you have a feeling that you just look desperately hungry.

He reaches up and hooks his fingers into the fabric of his mask and pulls it back down to cover his still slick-shiny mouth and jaw, and you’re gripped with sudden overwhelming panic and dismay that he’s changed his mind, that he’s about to leave you here wet and empty and wanting. In that moment, you throw your dignity into the wind.

“Please,” You beg pathetically, wriggling a little bit against your sweat-damp bedding in an effort to grind yourself against him. “Please, please, it’s fine, I swear, you don’t need one–”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost grinds out, his voice rough and a little hoarse. “How can a virgin be such a fuckin’ slut?”

Some part of you wonders if you should be offended by that, but instead a frisson of heat runs down your spine. You know you’re not a slut – you’ve never searched for any sexual attention, and you’ve never even experienced someone else’s touch – but goddamn you want to be a slut for your lieutenant right now.

Despite his harsh words, when Ghost hooks your legs over his hips and aligns himself with you, he’s gentle. He’s acting like you’re something fragile; he’s so big that your legs are spread wide around his waist, his shoulders so broad that he’s blocking out the dim light from your lamp, and yet his touch is light against you as though he’s afraid to break you.

He’s still gripping his cock hard, and he slides the tip of it against your slick heat. You have a brief moment of alarm; even through the haze of arousal, you can recognise that this is going to be a tight fit. You breathe deeply, then begin to wiggle your hips in an effort to take him inside you.

He hisses, then one of his big hands grabs at your hip. “Fuck, stay still.”

“Put it in.” You beg, your voice coming out thick and stupid-sounding. “Fuck, please, c’mon, c’mon–”

“Kid,” Ghost bites out through clenched teeth, his voice low and gritty. “Need you to shut the fuck up for me.”

You manage to bite down on your lip, but you can’t stop yourself from pouting mopily at him with wide, wet eyes. You don’t understand why he’s making you wait – can’t he see how mean he’s being? You’re so fucking wet, so empty as you clench down on nothing, and your clit is so desperate for any kind of stimulation that it’s throbbing needily. The head of his cock catches at your opening, dipping in for a second before resuming its maddening slide up and down.

Ghost is still watching you closely, his brown eyes flickering from where the head of his cock drags through your sodden folds up to your pleading pouting expression. You can only imagine what kind of a sight you make, because his chest growls with a choked sort of groan.

“I know,” He murmurs, almost mockingly soft with you. “I know, you want it. Gotta give it to you slowly.”

You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to give it to you slowly, that he can go as fast and hard as he wants to, but some sense of self-preservation shuts you up. Instead, you nod clumsily as he rubs his cock over the slick folds of your cunt, lubing himself up with your own arousal. The feeling of his cock dragging over you, iron hard and velvety soft, so close to where you want it, is enough to have your head spinning dizzily.

You want to beg again, but you’re still trying to follow his order to be silent. You shift restlessly, biting back a whimper when he taps his cock thoughtfully against your clit.

Finally, he decides to put you out of your misery.

The thick crown of his cock pushes against the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your cunt, and the gasp you let out is positively punched out of you. He goes slow, just like he promised, but you can still hardly believe it. He goes in and in and in, and yet he’s somehow not even halfway inside.

“Fuck,” You wheeze, punctuated by a strange little yowl. “Oh god, wait–”

You feel stuffed just from the first few inches, drunk already on the quiet little grunts he’s making. The stretch and the sting and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him and you can’t even decide if it’s good or if it’s too much. Your eyes are hot and wet as overwhelmed tears begin to overflow, and you find yourself arching in a weak attempt to flex away from him and the devastating stretch.

God, he’s massive. You knew he would be, of course, but his size seems so much more significant when you’re being impaled on the end of his cock. Fuck, you can feel your vision go blurry as your eyes fill with overwhelmed tears. You’re mortified when a sob is ripped from your chest, harsh and thick.

“Shh, shh.” Ghost coos, his deep voice syrupy thick as he leans over you, the enormous bulk of him caging you into the mattress until your whole world consists only of him. “Just a little bit more.”

“Fuck,” You choke out, trying to arch away again but failing because he’s so big that there’s nowhere to go. “It’s not gonna fit!”

“Shh, lovie,” He rumbles, ducking his face down so that the rough cotton of his mask is pressed against the sweaty skin of your neck. “Relax’n let me in.”

“I– ‘m trying–” You whine, clutching at his biceps. “Jesus–”

You blink your eyes open, vision blurry from the tears clumping your lashes together, only to be met with the sight of Ghost’s deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath the black mask. He’s looming above you, his gaze made all the more intense by the fact that it’s the only part of his face you can really see.

“All that messin’ around with those plastic cocks, but you’re still this tight for me,” He says, his voice so deep that you feel it reverberate into your bones. “Deep breath.”

The breath you inhale at his instruction is rough and ragged, and he snorts a low breathless laugh in response.

When he finally drives his cock all the way in with one smooth stroke, all the breath is driven from your lungs. It feels as though his cock has been pressed all the way up into your chest, and the noise you make when you squirm on it is utterly pathetic.

Ghost’s hands are like steel clamps when they close around the plump flesh of your thighs, holding them up and pressing them back until they’re pressed against your belly. He looms over you, still almost entirely clothed as sweat beads over his thickly muscled neck. It’s like getting pinned down by a mountain, and you whimper as you’re speared open and prone by the weight of Ghost pressing down upon you.

He hasn’t even started to move yet, but you still feel overfull and raw.

“Too big,” You mumble, struggling to catch your breath. You choke on a sob and feel your eyes burn with unshed tears as your back arches. “Ghost–!”

“Shh.” He grunts. “Call me Simon when I fuck you.”

That… that does something to you. Molten heat rockets up your spine and pools in your belly, and you swear your pussy floods. It’s stupid, how being granted permission to call your lieutenant by his first name is somehow so much hotter than anything else he’s done so far.

“Simon,” You try it out. It comes out a little shaky, your voice little more than a weak whisper, but you swear you can see his eyes sharpen.

Apparently having come to the decision that you’ve adjusted enough, Ghost pulls his hips back only to drive back in.

“Oh!” You yelp, hips jumping, but there’s nowhere to go.

All you can do is lie there as he slides out, out, out, slow and careful and long, and then his hips snap forward and he impales you, pressing all the way into him. He does it again, and again, and you try to bite down on your tongue, try to not sound so pathetically wrecked, but you can’t. It’s like Ghost is puncturing your lungs and every time he fucks into you, you let out the most pathetic little mewling ah ah ah sounds.

You’re not quite prepared for how different this feels; it’s nothing like your stupid plastic dildo. Ghost’s cock is bigger, but it’s also hotter and with more give than you expected, and you’ve never been able to fuck yourself like this. Your plastic toys could never compare to the sensation of being pinned by your giant of a lieutenant as he ruts into you.

Ghost reaches up and roughly pushes his mask up so his mouth is exposed again before he leans in deeper, almost folding you cleanly in half, stretching in to claim your mouth in a kiss that’s not quite a kiss, but rather a fierce mash of lips and tongue as his rhythm picks up, riding you down into the mattress until you realised the screaming noise isn’t coming from either one of you, but the cheap standard issue bed frame.

All you can do is gasp with each deep, raw fuck. There are tears tracking lazily down your cheeks, having overflowed from your burning eyes, and you honestly think your lungs might collapse. You’re bent like a fucking pretzel, in a way that’s making the muscles in your thighs scream, as Ghost pounds into you.

He’s fucking relentless, but also shockingly aware of you beneath him. He doesn’t put too much pressure on you when he holds you, he never goes hard enough to hurt, and he knows just the right amount of weight to pin you down without being too much.

Your pussy is sloppy around him, wet squishing noises getting louder and louder as he finds more rhythm against your tight walls. Your whole world of awareness has been narrowed down to Ghost and Ghost only; his fingers digging into your thighs, your name in his mouth, his sweltering body pressing against yours.

He’s holding back, you can tell by the way his voice is caught in his throat. He’s keeping all his dangerous muscles at bay as he pulls out and presses in again. Rough, fast, but not enough to break you, just enough to make you scream until you bury your face to the side and try to cover your mouth with your arm.

“Yeah, you needed this,” Ghost grunts, his uncovered mouth nipping at the hinge of your jaw. “This’s why you were so fuckin’ distracted earlier, hm? You thinkin’ about how much you needed to cream around a real cock?”

“Uh huh, yeah,” You slur out, not even sure what you’re agreeing with. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, every nerve in your body raw and sparking. You must sound so pathetic, but Ghost seems to like it.

“Ain’t gonna be distracted anymore, are ya?” He rumbles, laving his tongue over your jaw in a way that feels filthy. “Just needed your little pussy filled, that’s all.”

You cry out for him because you can’t help it, delight bubbling in your throat every time he plunges into you. He keeps his pace for a bit, all rushed and blazing, transfixed on watching you suck him in, leaving slick trails along his shaft. But gradually he gets bolder, more desperate, big hands squeezing from your thighs to your hips.

You get lost in the feeling of him in your belly, searing and harsh, fat tip rolling against the spongy spot inside of you until you feel like you might snap. You feel him in your ears, your head pounding with every snap of his hips. You swear you even feel him in your toes, lightning zaps of pleasure down your nerves.

Then he leans back, lifting his weight off of you so you can breathe properly. He leaves his hand on your collarbones like a placeholder, his palm spread over the base of your throat like a reminder, a way to keep your attention on him.

“Fuck,” He grits out, “That’s it, doll.”

You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Ghost’s gaze has shifted, no longer focused on your face but now instead fixed firmly between your legs as he watches the thick shaft of his cock sink into you. He obviously likes how you feel inside; you can hear him cursing and grunting quietly as his free hand grips your hip for leverage.

With his mask rumpled up around his nose, you’re gifted with an incredible view of the way his teeth are sunk into his lower lip. Each time he sinks his cock into you again, he makes a raspy little groan, eyes fluttering briefly shut. It’s so painfully endearing that your heart quivers in your chest.

Your legs burn from being spread around his thick waist — any attempt for you to lock them around his back is useless, your legs slipping everytime his ass flexes with his thrusts. Every hasty drive of his hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time he ruts into you. With every sudden movement you feel the entirety of his fat cock; the veins are throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. Part of you marvels how you’re even able to fit him inside you.

“Never seen you look like this,” he grunts. “All fucked-out and perfect.”

Ghost leans in again, grips your legs so he can rearrange them over his shoulders, and you think you might die. The angle is different and somehow, impossibly, Ghost is fucking into you even deeper. You think you might actually be crying. There’s no question as to whether you’re drooling.

Your hands move to his arms, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his triceps as you cling on for dear life. He doesn’t even seem to notice the sting of your nails scratching him; or perhaps it only urges him on, because his movements take on an edge of desperation.

“Gorgeous girl,” He grits out, jaw clenched. “Squeezin’ so tight. Fuck. Gonna make you cream.”

You had forgotten about his promise to make you come, too lost in the hazy pleasure of his cock. But now it seems as though he’s been seized by the compulsion to fuck you to the edge; he reaches a hand down so that his thumb can join the fray, and it startles you into moaning breathlessly aloud.

His thumb is merciless against your clit. You’re vulnerable to his touch, clit spread and on display from the stretch of his thick cock inside of you, and he takes full advantage. His fingers are thick and blistering hot as he rubs at you, and you choke as your toes curl.

“Simon–” You manage to eke out before you lose the weak thread of your thoughts, scattering into nothing as he stimulates the stiff bead of your clit.

He grunts to show that he’s heard you, but he doesn’t seem any more capable of words than you are as he rocks into the cradle of your hips. You’re practically blinded by your wet eyes, blinking frantically to try and clear your vision as you reach out clumsily to throw your arms around Ghost’s blisteringly hot neck.

It feels as though your skin is stretched too tight over your body, hot and prickly and too much. You’re trembling, your breaths coming in shaky gasps as agonising pressure builds in your lower belly.

“Fuck, love.” Ghost says, his voice little more than a snarl. “You gonna come?”

No, You think hazily. No, you never come. But even as you think it, part of you recognises that it’s never felt like this before. Your stomach tightens, toes curling, your lungs burning, your eyes rolling. You hardly even know what’s happening.

You recognise that something is building, but it almost seems secondary to the way that Ghost is rutting into you like a man possessed, hitting that spongey spot in the back of your pussy that you’ve never managed to reach yourself and making your legs spasm every time even as his thick thumb rubs frantic circles around the bump of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck–” You wheeze, bucking your hips against him.

It doesn’t grow and dissipate in the way you’re used to. Rather, it creeps up on you almost without you noticing, until you’re whimpering and clinging to Ghost like he’s a lifeline. Your bottom lip trembles as you sob weakly, practically on the brink of diving into an oncoming tidal wave of desire. Then that coil in your stomach snaps like a rubber band, sudden and sharp as a slap to the face.

Your back arches, your vision whites out, and you cum so hard that the world stops, your ears ring, your body goes limp. Your cunts sucks tight around him, pulsing, feeling every inch of him. It feels so sweet, that white-hot buzzing pleasure rushing over you and wiping your brain completely clean.

You’re a little delirious from being stuffed with such a fat cock; every thrust just prolongs your pleasure, like his penetration keeps you from squeezing your very first orgasm out right away. It’s mindless ecstasy, your nails burrowing into the skin of his biceps as you desperately clutch at him for some kind of leverage. Ghost doesn’t falter, his hips continuing to work into you, wringing your orgasm out until you feel as though your brain is melting.

You sob – an actual, genuine, wet-sounding sob as your chest heaves for air and your eyes burn with overwhelmed, rapturous tears. Your head is spinning even as your climax subsides, leaving you limp-limbed and weak as Ghost continues rocking into you.

“Look so lovely when you come, sweetheart,” Ghost grunts into your ear, his bulky chest weighing you down as you clutch feebly at his shoulders. “God, that’s a sight. All for me, yeah?”

His praise only makes it worse, makes your eyes sting until there’s tears down your cheeks and stars behind your eyelids. He sounds so smug, but you can’t deny that he has reason to be. He’s the first man to ever touch you, first man to ever fuck you, the first person to ever tip you over the edge and wring an orgasm out of you. Fuck, you think your brain might have been reduced to mush permanently; you wonder wildly if you’ll ever be the same after this.

Despite the sting of Ghost’s punishing thrusts into your already oversensitive cunt, your body sings for him. The rhythm of his hips is getting gradually sloppier, as though he doesn’t care as much for precision now that he’s succeeded in making you come. Soft, guttural little grunts fall from his mouth, and his arms wrap around your waist to reposition you so that he can fuck quick and shallow. It’s almost tender, as though he’s aware of your growing sensitivity as you mewl under him.

There’s a profound, instinctual pleasure in seeing Ghost lose himself in your embrace. His dark eyes are heavy-lidded and his mask is still all rucked up, revealing the way his mouth is lolled softly open as he pants. You find yourself wishing feverishly that he had taken off his clothes too, because you think you would give anything to watch the roiling muscles of his chest and shoulders as he ruts into you.

Then just when you think you’re beginning to recover from the shattering, mind-numbing oversensitivity, Ghost comes inside of you.

He stops rutting to ride out his orgasm, his cock throbbing, pulsing, spurting inside you until you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt. And he comes a lot.

You’re stuffed so tightly with his cock that his cum has nowhere to go, and ends up leaking thickly from where your cunt grips around him, messy and hot and spilling over your thighs and his. The sound he makes is breathless, all open-mouth and head lolled back as he groans, blissed out as he finds release in your cunt.

The minutes afterwards are a blur.

You close your eyes for what feels like only a second, but the next time you blink your eyes open you find yourself feeling miserably, uncomfortably empty and sticky as all that oozy cum leaks out of you. You somehow missed Ghost pulling out of you, and your thoughts are muzzy and embarrassingly slow.

For a moment, you think you’re alone. You’re becoming more aware of yourself, and you realise that you’re shivering weakly alone in your sweat-damp sheets. Where did Ghost go? Part of you, still a little hazy, wonders if he had left you alone as soon as he had come, and you feel your lower lip tremble at the thought.

God, you feel pathetic. You shift feebly on the sheets, and suck in a sharp breath when you feel the ache inside you, proof that you’re going to feel the shadow of Ghost’s cock for days. You feel drunk off the afterglow, yet you’re swiftly becoming more and more aware of yourself and all the aches and pains that are coming to the fore now.

It feels like you’re too big for your body, and you’re clumsy when you try to sit up. Pushing yourself up makes a whole new set of aches light up, and you let out a quiet keening grumble.

You’re so caught up with trying to ground yourself that you jolt in surprise when big, paw-like hands land on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. “Shh, hey, lay down.” Ghost says, the rough edges of his accent softened. To your bewilderment, he has a damp cloth in his hand; he went to the bathroom, you realise hazily.

Maybe it’s just because you feel raw after your experience with him, pulsing like an open nerve, but you sniffle and blink and then suddenly there are tears dripping down your face.

“Thought you left.” You mumble, trying not to sound like a needy little idiot.

Ghost glances up at you, unblinkingly. His mask is fixed firmly back in place, and he looks annoyingly put-together; it’s an embarrassingly stark contrast to the way you’re still nude and shivery and teary-eyed.

“No.” He says simply.

The damp cloth is warm when it makes contact with your skin, and you relax as he drags it along your sweaty back and over your legs. He’s a little rough about it, but you don’t think it’s on purpose. Gentleness doesn’t come naturally to Simon Riley, and yet you can feel that he’s trying and that makes a warm glow settle in your stomach, replacing the cold anxiety that had settled in when you thought that he had left you alone.

When the cloth reaches the tender skin of your pussy, you hiss and try to pull away. It all feels too sensitive, and you feel your face crumple up as he wipes away the mess of slick and cum between your thighs. He gentles his touch as much as he can, but you still mewl at the electric zaps of oversensitivity that jolt up your spine.

When Ghost pauses and pulls the cloth away from you, you blink your eyes awake. Your vision is still all wet and blurry from tears, but you can still see the shape of Ghost as he stares down at you. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, even after having been cleaned up, and Ghost’s stare is burning.

You wonder if he’s about to leave now – you can recognise this whole thing had gotten out of hand, and you just about manage to stifle the panic at the creeping realisation that you’ve just fucked your superior officer. Ghost must have realised at this point that the two of you had just ripped through all those fraternisation rules, though it’s always been difficult to tell what he’s thinking. But you trust him – you have to, in your line of work. You have to trust that he’ll handle things.

Ghost tosses aside the cloth, and his big overbearing body climbs back into bed beside you. It’s a standard-issue bunk, and yet it feels comically tiny when Ghost has been added to the mix. He’s surprisingly agile, even despite his big size, and you barely have time to realise that he’s joining you in bed before he’s wrapped a thick arm around your middle, hauling you closer.

You’d love to act chill and cool about the fact that he’s now essentially cuddling you, but you miss the mark by a long mile. You take a breath, and allow yourself to relax into his big burly chest. He’s still fully clothed, and the rough texture of his jeans against your tender bare skin makes you shiver lightly from oversensitivity.

Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, your joints weak and watery, and you’re perfectly content to close your eyes and forcibly ignore all your concerns about fraternisation or how you’re going to face Ghost in training. It’s a problem for another time.

“You still alive?” Ghost grunts, and his palm coasts down over your back to settle at your ass, his fingers squeezing absent-mindedly into the soft flesh there.

He sounds amused, which makes you grumble in irritation. He takes up so much space, his big body filling up all the free space on the bed and making you feel so fucking small as he holds you so that your back is pressed against his stomach.

“I dunno,” You mumble, words a little garbled. “Think… think you might have fucked me stupid, Lt.”

Lying like this, with his front pressed against your back, you can feel his laugh rumble into you. He’s touchy too in a way that surprises you; his hands are constantly moving, swiping over your sides and groping at any part of you that’s squishy-soft.

“Think I might have,” He agrees, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “But I think you needed it, sweetheart. You were practically cryin’ out for it all day.”

You feel your face heat at the insinuation that he had noticed the arousal you thought you had hidden so well. But you still feel so fuzzy inside, and you can’t manage to drum up any genuine reaction.

Ghost’s roaming hand slips down between your legs, and you hold your breath as he reaches your swollen, tender pussy. His fingers are so big, but he’s aware of his strength and keeps his touch light, cupping rather than groping, his calloused palm catching on your puffy clit.

“Told you a real cock would be better,” He rumbles, and you feel the soft material of his mask rubbing against the back of your sweaty neck. “You’ve got a fussy little cunt – ‘s only gonna be satisfied by the real thing.”

You’d love to jab back at him, but the feeling of him rough palm against your oversensitive clit has your thoughts fizzing out into nothingness. All you can do is let out a quiet little whimper, and rock your hips into his touch. To your utter bewilderment, you feel your arousal, which you had previously considered entirely sated, pulse back to life.

As if Ghost can feel your cunt throb beneath his hand, he snickers. “Yeah. Fussy and greedy.”

He leans down, and you feel his lips brush against the back of your neck through the cotton of his balaclava. You quiver, and part your legs without conscious thought to give his thick fingers more room to work. Despite your exhaustion, and your soreness, and your sensitivity, you find yourself wanting. You wonder, with an edge of hysteria, if your body has somehow managed to rewire itself to only accept pleasure from your commanding officer’s hand.

“Ghost– Simon–” You breathe, your hips jumping as you grind into his palm.

“Yeah,” He says again, as though he knows exactly what you need and want. “One little orgasm wasn’t enough, was it?”

“No.” You choke out, throwing your head back so that it’s resting against Ghost’s broad chest. “No, ‘t wasn’t.”

You can hardly believe that your body is winding up for more, but Ghost’s touch is searing hot against your tender skin, and you can already taste the pleasure he’s going to bring you. This time, without the edge of urgency, you think you might even enjoy it more.

“Gimme five minutes,” He drawls, his voice low and muffled in your ear. “And I’ll give you your second.”

#mak <3 #HOW DO I EVER MOVE ON FROM THIS #THE TROPE. MAKS WRITING. GHOST BEING A GOD AT FUCKING????? IM UNWELL #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley smut

20K notes · View notes

suna-cerely-yours · 2 years ago

Text

tonight, you're mine ft rintaro

warnings: fem! bodied reader, smoking, 18+, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, angst, fwb!suna.

a/n: i've had this in my drafts forever it's a miracle i actually posted this.

[2:07 am]

you up? im downstairs

huffing slightly, you put down your phone as suna's message lights up your screen. tipping your head back, you breathe slowly- once, twice- before getting up, shrugging on a hoodie and making your way to the door.

you leave your apartment building, the glass door closing with a click as you cross the walkway and climb down the stairs. suna stands there, leaning against his black lexus, head tilted towards the sky. you move closer, gravel crunching underneath your feet as he turns his gaze on you, head still tilted upward. slowly he straightens, lithe body drawing upto its full height, and shifting to face you.

"i won't kiss you, you know", you say, gesturing to the lit cigarette between his fingers. " i hate that shit."

"it's just one, i've been stressed lately - it's not that bad," he replies, carelessly bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

you huff a sigh, before stepping closer and grabbing his wrist.

"fine then, i guess i'll also smoke a bit- since it's not that bad."

hooded eyes watch as you bring his wrist closer to your mouth, lips wrapping around the cigarette.

you inhale- and immediately start coughing.

"this is- ugh- how do you even- "

smirking slightly he brings the cigarette up to his own mouth, inhaling.

"you have to, have to suck it slow- can't be in a hurry."

throat dry, you glare at him- fighting the urge to simply storm back to bed.

"well? you gonna get in or what?"

he crushes the cigarette and throws it in a nearby trashcan, before smoothly opening the door for you, gesturing you to get in.

climbing inside, you fiddle with the radio, the weeknd's sultry beats filling the car as suna climbs in and reverses out of the parking lot.

"do you wanna stop at mcdonald's?"

"rin we're literally driving to your apartment so we can fuck, hurry up."

"okay, okay fine- be like that."

"be like what? "

"nothing."

sighing, you tilt your head back. you never knew what went through this boy's head. sure, you guys weren't exactly friends- you didn't say hi to each other at parties nor did you acknowledge each others' presence at any time that wasn't past midnight- but still.

"i thought you were going home this weekend."

"i was- then something came up."

"oh."

awkward silence stretches between the two of you as rin pulls into the parking lot of his bougie apartment building. for a moment neither of you move, now listening to travis scott mumble about being the highest in the room.

reaching over, you let your nails drag against the nape of his neck, your hand reaching around to cup his face. turning it towards you, you lock eyes- his stare heavy.

you swallow, mouth suddenly dry.

"rin, i've been thinking lately that, that this can't go on. we've been at it for months and i'm literally moving across the country for grad school next month. it's better we wrap things up."

" you mean fucking? you wanna stop?"

"well we certainly can't continue when we're in different parts of the country."

his jaw works under your palm, teeth grinding together.

"so we just stop? and become strangers?"

"you're acting like we even look at each other in public."

" i look at you plenty, it's you who never looks back."

"rin, what are you even saying? we're just fuckbuddies, and it's time we stop. this was a temporary thing anyway, remember?"

mouth parting, he exhales- before slipping out of your palms.

"alright, i guess it's our last night then, c'mon."

the both of you make your way up to his apartment. he takes his time unlocking the door, swiping his key card multiple times. the door finally opens with a click, familiar surroundings meeting your eyes. the glass windows overlooking the city is the only source of light, moonlight illuminating his minimalist living room. the city bustles as usual, skyscrapers and billboards lit up. you'll miss this view, that's for sure, and maybe even the countless nights the two of you had spent looking at the view, satiated on his leather couch.

his hand threads through yours, uncharacteristically tender, as he leads you to his bedroom, and he's cradling your face delicately and kissing you- soft, languid and unhurried. you grasp at the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, trying to bring him closer.

he's moving you backward, till the back of your knees hits the bed and you lie back, him moving above you. without breaking the kiss he lowers your head till you're lying flat on the bed, him between your legs, one arm supporting himself.

he kisses you languidly, licking into your mouth, slowing palming your breast over your hoodie.

“this hoodie is mine, y’know. i was wondering what happened to it.”

“mhm, it’s mine now.”

huffing a laugh, he sits back on his knees, stopping his ministrations momentarily to simply look at you, lips swollen and hair messy.

his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, reaching over to unzip your hoodie, revealing a thin white camisole stretching over your breasts, nipples erect. his hands trail over your stomach, pushing up the camisole and sliding inside the waistband of your leggings, inhaling sharply when he notices your lack of underwear.

“so pretty, all f’me right? only for me,” he groans, peeling your leggings down and tossing them aside. parting your legs he settles between them, hooking your knees on his broad shoulders.

“rin,ah-”

you’re cut off as he presses a kiss to your cunt, tongue dipping between your folds to flick at your clit. sucking on your clit, he pushes a finger inside you, curling just so when he finds your sensitive spot, grinning as you whine, your hips shooting upwards.

“rin, please oh, just- i need you inside,” you moan, panting as he slides another finger inside, torturously slow.

“fuck, doll- you don’t need to beg, i’d do anything for you.”

you’re too turned on too notice the implications of his words, sliding his hoodie down your arms and slipping out of your camisole, watching as he pulls off his sweatshirt and grabs a condom, bringing it up to his mouth to open the packaging.

before rolling on the condom he grabs your hips and brings you closer, tapping the head of his cock on your pussy, sliding it between your folds, groaning at the friction. you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer, sighing as he finally rolls on the condom and pushes past your folds.

“shit, you always feel so good, fuck-”

“rin, faster, i’m so close, please-”

he obliges, thrusting faster, one hand slipping between the two of you to press tight circles on your clit.

you scream, lips forming an o as you hit your high unexpectedly, gasping as he continues pounding into you, sloppier as he chases his own high. you clench down on him, squirming at the over sensitivity as he cums, hips stuttering.

the two of you are silent as he pulls out, breathing heavily. you push yourself up on your elbows as he knots the condom, throwing it in the bin near his desk.

“i-”, you begin, unsure what to say.

his eyes lock on yours as he pulls you into his lap, burying his face into your neck.

"you can leave in the morning, tonight i'm not letting you go."

#y'all #idk ok idk #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!!#hq #hq smut #hq x reader #suna smut #suna rintaro #hq suna #inarizaki #suna angst #haikyuu angst

1K notes · View notes

xiaosweetheart · 3 years ago

Text

my pretty baby <//3

character: xiao <33

genre: fluff and smut

warnings: gn afab reader, soft dom reader; sub xiao; u make xiao praise himself; minimal editing/revising bc im tired but should probably post; mentions(?) of overstim

a/n: hes so pretty :(( i just. i just wanna give him a kiss :( a lil smooch <//3

"you're so pretty, baby," you cooed down at xiao, caressing his cheek tenderely. right now, the yaksha lay panting beneath you, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, skin flushed under your heated touch. his brain was near-mush and he had long since lost count of how many times you had made him cum tonight.

"nnnh sh–shut up," xiao whined, bringing an arm over his face to try to hide his embarrassed expression away from you.

"hey hey, none of that now, lovely," you murmured, prying his arm away and pinning it above his head. "i wanna see your pretty face."

"mm 'm not pretty," he mumbled, refusing to meet your gaze. you had been smothering xiao in praise all night — covering him in kisses and telling him how pretty he is, gentle, but fleeting, touches all over his body, and what felt to be endless pleasure. you had turned the once-vigilant yaksha into a sniveling, blushing mess under you.

"what was that?" you hummed, an underlying edge laced in your voice, grabbing xiao by the jaw and forcing him to look at you. his eyes were glassy and much, much softer than they usually were, with pretty golden irises gazing up at you, sheepish from the praise. watching as a fresh set of tears welled up and threatened to spill over, you leaned down to give xiao a little kiss, but let out a yelp when you felt his free hand move from your hip to the back of your neck, forcing you down even further as he craned his neck up, desperate to feel your lips against his.

the unexpected action was enough to make you lose your balance and topple against his chest while his hand tangled itself in your hair. whining as xiao began fucking up into you, mind drunk on pleasure and your touch, you parted your lips enough to suck his tongue into your mouth, smirking to yourself whenever you heard him whimper.

moving the hand that was pinning his hand above his head down to press against his hip, you nipped at his tongue and gave it one last suck before breaking away from the kiss, chuckling at the dazed look on his face.

"i'll let you cum again whenever you tell me how pretty you are," you told him, grinding your hips down against his.

"aa–aah! tha–ah! 's not fair!" he sobbed, hands shifting to come rest on your thighs. but you paid no mind to his complaint, instead opting to start trailing sloppy kisses down his neck and over his shoulders, stopping every now and then to leave a hickey so dark that you were sure it'd take weeks to fade.

relishing in all the pretty moans and whimpers that fell from his lips, you bit down particularly hard on the sweet spot of his neck, grinning like the chesire cat against his skin whenever he let out a breathy, feminine moan, hips bucking up on reflex.

"even your moans are pretty, baby," you praised softly, pinching his nipple while you continued to bite and suck over the same spot, chuckling to yourself when you felt xiao's cock twitch against your walls.

"pl–please! hhnh please let me cum," he started, nails digging into your thighs. "pl–please 'm so pretty! 'm so, so pretty! just let me cum again, please!" he was crying again, and you could see the desperation in his eyes and hear it in his voice — you wanted nothing more than to cave and give him what he wanted, but these were just surface words, surely he could beg better than that.

xiao felt his breath hitch in his throat whenever you began riding him again, thinking his wish was finally being granted but let out a low whine of frustration at the agonizingly slow pace you had set.

"keep begging," you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "just a little more."

"mmn 'm so— aah! 'm so pretty! y–your pretty boy! o–ooh! fuck! 'm your pretty baby! hhn please! 'm pretty — so, so pretty! c–can i cum now please?"

and who were you to deny your lovely boy?

masterlist.

#xiao x reader #xiao x reader smut #xiao smut #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #bards.sinful.songs #village.scribe #gn.afab.reader #afab.reader

1K notes · View notes

thehoundwrites · 3 years ago

Note

Responding to the recent post Grayson and a breeding kink 😌💋

Nsfw 18+ Minors Do not interact

CW: nsfw, p in v raw, breeding kink, Graysons a gentle Dom, oral (f receiving)

Note: Grayson has a dick, Fem!reader

Words: 800+

Her hands get rougher, at the mention of it. She has you on her lap her hands tracing your bare back, eyelids hung low as she looked up at you. Perched perfectly on her thighs, your hands tangled in her hair, your chests hung heavy panting as you pull away for air.

She could feel the butterflies in your stomach escaping you. You were throbbing against thighs, which she could feel even beneath the thick fabric of her uniform.

Her soft hands found their way to your hips pulling your waist down to press your core against hers, her hips pushed upwards into you while still pulling you into her.

"you want me, so bad dont you sweetness"

Her soft lips pressing beneath your ear lobe, leaving a trail of wet kisses lower. You moved your head up for her and then watched as she lowered herself to kiss across your collar bone, your hips squirmed trying to match her rhythm on your own.

"Please baby, I need you"

Her breath was hot against you skin as she replied "I know baby, Im gonna fill you up as soon as I'm done tasting you"

You whimpered your hips attempting to wiggle free from her, "oh baby, you really need my cum don't you? Such a filthy thing for a pretty girl like you." Her smirk couldn't grow wider as she pulled herself free from her pants then shifting and unbuttoning more buttons of her uniform shirt so that her black lace bra poked out, you helped position yourself so the head of her cock was poking into you.

You felt a tightness in your chest, as she held onto your hips pushing you as painfully slow as she could.

"sh sh sh, you can take it my love, you're such a good girl for me aren't you?"

She guided you down taking her as deep as you can, with enough force that you could've swore you felt her in your stomach.

"Fuck Gray, you're so deep"

Her gentle touch found it's way up to your cheeks as you began to grind against her, her own hips following if only to please you.

Your arms wrapped around her neck and you kissed around her face as you rode her. "Fuck baby youre gonna milk me if you keep it up" you could hear the shakiness of her voice already.

Her eyes watched you for a moment more before lifting you just enough to slip you so that she could move the two of you into a better position. Your back was on the couch and her above you. "Turn around my love" her eyes maintained contact with yours and you didn't want to disappoint her. You turned arching your back, with your elbows pressed into her couch and her cock poking at your pussy from behind.

You felt her rub your clit with it before prodding at your entrance, and shoving it in slowly but harshly. The new angle reaching spots you couldn't as she stretched you out.

"Mm baby you're so pretty like this, I can't wait to watch my cum drip out of your pretty little pussy"

Her hips pressed in and out, moving herself around from different angles until she found the spot that made you moan the loudest.

You couldn't help but to press back into her, you needed her and she always gave you whatever you needed.

"Your gonna take it all aren't you angel?" She asked you could only muffle your whine into your forearm as she picked up her pace, thrusting in and out of you just as she learned you love, you could feel your stomach tighten so if course she could too, you heard a gasp as she lowered herself more pulling you deeper on her. "Cum for me my love, then I'll fill you up as much as you want"

You couldn't hide your moans anymore, and she kept enticing you to cum, and finally you did and she let you ride it out before flipping you, her arms now at the sides of your head. She lifted your hips to position herself and started thrusting faster and harder, she lowered her lips to meet the skin of your forehead.

"do you want my cum darling?"

You nodded your eyes wide as you wrapped your arms around her neck pulling her closer.

"please cum inside me"

She groaned pulling away from your arms, and grabbed your hips pulling you into her with her thrusts, you could feel her thighs tense and you wrapped your legs around her waste. It felt warm, filling you up completely, a loud groan escaped Grayson as her cum dribbled down your legs, and she fucked it deeper inside of you.

"c'mon take it baby, take it, take it"

You heard her breaths get louder as she pulled out letting more cum pour out, you whimpered wanting her back inside but you felt her tongue on your clit and you melted. Completely over stimulated all you could do was moan her name as she ate her cum out of you.

#queue never learned patience #grayson #grayson x reader #grayson imagine #grayson arcane #enforcer grayson

274 notes · View notes

moxfirefly · 4 years ago

Note

Oh... Bitch. #19 and I request Mikey. I wanna see your magic and well... His. 😏🧡

Oh yes, let’s get it!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Michelangelo was dumbfounded. Truly stumped at the sentence that rolled out of your mouth.

He must’ve misheard, it wouldn’t be the first time, his mind always running a hundred per hour but this wasn’t the case.

Michelangelo gripped your feet, massaging the soles as you spoke. The two of you sat on the couch in the truck. It had taken several weeks of begging but Mikey had managed to swear on a stack of Wu-Tang vinyls that if Donnie lended him the truck he would return it in its complete safe mint condition. The reason for this was he wanted to take his girl out for a drive, maybe park somewhere nice, watch the night life, the city lights.

It was gonna be a perfect date for sure.

After some driving around, totally showing off that he so was a responsible driver unlike what his brothers suspected, he had parked. The two of you moved to the back part and enjoyed every nifty little gadget for entertainment that Donnie had installed.

So now as the two of you settled and talked about everything, the topic had shifted to sex.

For Mikey, even if his actual reptile brain was vibrating at the possibility of sex, he knew some of these talks were a means for you to find your ground. The topic often came up, not to say things hadn’t gotten pretty heated between the two of you, but it never escalated above some heavy petting.

Tonight though, Mikey’s brow bones shot up over the reason why you were still apprehensive of taking that final step. The reason though, just left him feeling incredulous.

“What do you mean you’ve never cum from sex?!” Mikey sat up better, attention at high when you covered your face and laughed. “It happens, Mike. More often than one would like but the guys I’ve been with just...” You trailed off, the situation was embarrassing as if.

Mikey bounced the information in his brain, were you afraid he would be another on the list? Then again it could be understandable, this was his first serious relationship. You noticed his pensive gaze and scooted close. “Hey im not saying you aren’t gonna get the job done, but my experiences just haven’t been earth shattering” You grabbed his hand, thumbs pressing on his palms.

Mikey shrugged with a shy smile. “Well, I think I can change that string of bad luck” The confidence was there and you couldn’t deny it was something that often made you giddy on the inside. With no hesitation you pressed your smiling lips to his, you felt the tips of his fingers caress beneath your chin. If there was something the orange banded ninja felt confident about, it was his ability to kiss. Often a time had he seen that glazed, love drunk gaze on you after a particularly steamy makeout session. Wether a soft, ghosting of a teasing kiss to those more messier saliva exchanging kisses. Mikey simply just knew how to work his mouth.

And you would be a god damn liar if you hadn’t fantasized about said mouth doing other things.

There in the softly lit back of the truck, you let yourself fall into the familiar ache that his mouth caused you. A few weeks ago you had ridden his thigh to the point of your nethers throbbing with a terrible need. Mikey’s lips teasingly kissed towards your neck, carefully raking his teeth over the sensitive spots. His kissing alone was far superior than those of your ex lovers, Mikey’s attention to detail when it came to your sweet spots was critical for him. He knew your neck was free game, too easy but he’d learned about your shoulders, about squeezing your waist and pressing you against himself.

He was well aware of raining down some cocky comments against your mouth or ears would deliver fantastic results.

You pulled back just an inch, eyes scanning his. You caressed his face, thumbs running across his lips, shiny with the taste of yours.

“Okay, let’s try it out” You spoke softly, cheeks flushed but eyes so very certain. He felt his heart rattle inside of him, nervousness rose but he fought against it when your hands caressed him so lovingly. You could reassure him with a look often times but if you touched him, ran your hands over his cheeks or arms, whatever self doubt would melt away.

Everything melts with Mikey.

Just like now, somewhere along the various sounds inside of the truck and the soft music playing you got up and started to undress before him. Mikey’s frozen in place but not out of fear or embarrassment but more so because he doesn’t want to miss a second of what you are giving him. Intimate parts of you he’d only gotten his fingertips to brush or lips to kiss. He’s mesmerized, hypnotized truly. Watching jeans slide down your legs and a sweater fall somewhere near your shoes. He can’t take his eyes off of you, sweaty hands pushing down his own shorts as he kicks off his shoes, thankful for not being in his full usual gear.

Mikey swallows dryly when your knees hit the couch, straddling his lap and effectively trapping him in your scent. Lazily you feel his hands on your hips steadying you. The kissing picks up again and you’ve never felt more in tune with somebody.

Somewhere along the heat his fingers find the clasp of your bra, hand at the back of his head you give him that nudge to do what he’s so very much craved. Burying his face between the two fleshy mounds he inhaled and shuddered against softness. Biting your lip you try to grind down on him, lost in the content sigh that blows hot air against your sternum.

“Mikey...” It’s a whisper against his temple, felt so deeply within his soul that can’t help but tug you closer to him. “You’re like, beautiful” He’s punch drunk and you’re pretty sure he just said that to your breasts but it brings chuckling smile out of you. “You’re not so bad yourself either” You take your lustful moment to run your hands down his chest, enamored with the texture, aroused by the strength you feel beneath your fingertips. You take a daring second to lean down and lick a slow stripe up his neck. Mikey felt like he short circuited with just that, he wondered if the rest of you would cause more of those sensations.

So he can’t help but find out. He moves you to lay down on the cozy couch, settled between your legs he grinds against your clothed heat. You want him already, quiet little moans escape you and go straight to his hard on. His underwear is past his hips and yours is pushed to the side and that familiar burn knocks the wind out of you cause it’s never felt this strongly. The shape of him makes you lift your hips to seek him out further and Mikey moans something guttural against your chest when he bottoms out in you.

“Fu-uck, oh god” It’s so sincere and muffled against your left breast that you’re secretly proud you caused that in him. He’s wary of his weight, one arm above your head to grip the armrest the other dug beneath your low back. He keeps you just the way you want to and the rest is your legs tightly snug against his waist, the edges of his shell digging in. That first cautious thrust is accompanied by his lips around your nipple. You shudder against him, the overwhelming sensation catching you off guard. You watch the arm above you flex, muscle twitch with his next thrust. He’s hitting spots that no other lover had bothered to, tongue twirling around your nipple alternating between sucking and biting the flesh.

You cuss, feel yourself shudder and stick to him with desire. “Jesus just-god!” You’re a mess of words when he licks all the way to your earlobe and bites down. “Just what? Hmm, girly you’re so warm around my dick” You must be red, every inch of you must be crimson because hearing him talk like that shouldn’t affect you that much. Mikey’s clearly riding the high of it, noticing how you clench around him and pull him into wet warmth.

Soon enough he’s thrusting harder, quicker and the truck is filled with panting and praising. You run your hands up his plastron, enjoying how that makes him buck more. He finds you lips and kisses you with a need that can’t be measured, tongue entwining with yours. The hand that had been so viciously holding the armrest snakes down your side and in between both of yours moving bodies. You feel the pad of his rough thumb slowly circle your hardened clit and the feeling is enough to moan into his mouth. Mikey licks the roof of your mouth and recaptures your mouth and it’s dizzying. The soft but firm circles on your sensitive nub make you squirm and tremble. It’s too many feelings at once, his cock filling you up, lips on yours distracting and that’s treacherous little motion of his thumb.

Soon you start to feel it, a tightening, a tension that makes you seek his thrusts out more. You want to moan but his kiss muffles it, tongue so busy making you needier. Mikey rubbed faster this time, the salacious wet sounds mixed with the sounds of slapping. You’re teetering and it’s too much for you to be able to concentrate on the kiss. Your mouth opens and you gasp when that free fall feeling hits. Mikey rubs and pounds and you cum. Your eyes shut tight as you scream, gushing around his length and spasming. Your back arches, hands trying to grab or push at anything. Mikey jackhammers the last of what he can and cums hard only making you shiver and spasm more. He buries his face between your sweaty breast, harsh breaths hitting the skin.

You find feelings against in your legs and your heart allows you to relax in the post coital bliss. “Was...Was that good?” Mikey sounds dead but so deeply satisfied and you giggle, the movement making your chest vibrate and he happily nuzzles your chest. “More than good, I think I lost my vision for five seconds” He snorts and you smile as you affectionately caress the back of his head.

“...Wanna go again?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely” He grins against your skin.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt michelangelo x female reader #michelangelo tmnt #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt mikey #tmnt michelangelo #michelangelo x reader #mikey x reader #smut prompt #mikey #Michelangelo #ask #imthegreenfairy88 #ns*w

434 notes · View notes

alolowrites · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight Fantasies

Summary: Shinsou reminds you why you’ll always love him.

Song Inspiration: “Repeat After Me” by The Weeknd

Author Note: *gasp* Did I actually post a new story and it’s NSFW?!? Crazy, I know. I’m honestly surprised it’s not Bakugou doing the honors LMAO. It’s my first attempt writing a NSFW fic, so I am nErVoUs ahsdksjd. I really like how it turned out; y’all can thank The Weeknd for this.

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. PLS.

Warnings: Aged-Up Characters; Fem!Reader; Oral Sex (Female receiving); some basic, vanilla, sex tbh (baby steps y’all). Unprotected sex (whoops); Slight angst?? I’m sorry, I had to. Not sure if im missing something else....

Word Count: 1.6K+

3:16am

A tiny flame burns quietly on your bedside table, casting a glow on your whimpering face. You sink further into the silky pillows and close your eyes—his sinful touches are heavenly. They are the cure to the madness that was eating you alive the last few nights. But tonight, oh, tonight is different as strong hands roam along your body, treasuring each curve like a precious gift sent from above.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling on the soft covers that probably won’t survive once the morning sun rises. But you don’t care as you feel his lips explore every inch of your bare shoulder. He moves toward your lovely neck and nips it softly, making you whine. A deep chuckle tickles by your ear as he hovers over you.

His left knee wedges in between your legs and grazes the dangerously wet panties. You moan, your hand clinging on his sculpted back muscles like a koala. He then grinds himself down on you, and your fingers dig into his thick skin. Oh, how he enjoys riling you up like this. You roll your hips to satisfy the pleasure burning inside your core.

“Fuck, Hitoshi…”

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hot breath blowing against your heated skin. Shinsou gives you a chaste kiss, whispering, “Just relax. Let me take care of you tonight.”

A shudder runs down your spine—you yearned for this.

Shinsou listens to your body very carefully. He lets all the desperate squirms, the excited jolts, the heavy pants guide him on this long, sensual journey. You arch your back as Shinsou moves down, his lips leaving behind a blazing trail of kisses.

Breathy moans fill the room as the hemline of your satin nightdress rises up, exposing your ass. One of Shinsou’s palms greedily gropes it, amazed at how soft and delectable it feels. You pant harder as the hand travels south, the pace so agonizingly slow that your body is on fire. He stops and grips the thin fabric of your panties. You gaze at him, heart pounding when lustful eyes stare back at you.

They are like dark storm clouds ready to ravage the world—or in this case, you. A devious smile graces his lips as the panties slide off your legs and are tossed away, never to be seen again. You yelp when he pulls you closer to him, his face disappearing in between your legs. The anticipation grows as you feel him leave ghostly kisses along your inner thighs, waiting for those deadly lips to—

“S-shit,” you cry quietly, eyes shutting for a moment.

Shinsou’s tongue gives a teasing flick on your clit. He grins and licks around the swollen area, peppering it with kisses as well. You squirm on the bed and release another shaky breath. Shinsou wastes no time sucking your wet cunt, his mouth savoring the sweet taste dripping out your quivering hole.

A broken gasp rips through the air when his thumb circles on your clit. It moves at a steady rhythm, and you ride along with it, panting heavily the quicker he goes. You don’t want it to stop—not when the pleasure is so damn addicting, making your toes curl. Shinsou then sucks on the sweet spot, hard, and you moan louder.

“Oh, god, yes,” you chant like a broken record. One hand grips his messy hair, and you shiver when he grunts. Your hand has a mind of its own, pushing his face deeper to keep that friction going. “Fuck, more.”

And Shinsou obliges, devouring your throbbing pussy like a starved man. You simply buck your hips against his mouth and dig your fingers on his scalp until it bleeds. Shinsou holds you in place, the filthy sounds of his tongue pushing you over the edge. You keep hanging until it’s all too much and cry out in pure ecstasy, the waves rippling down your body.

Shinsou finally comes up for air, his chin dripping with that sweet cum of yours. He wastes no precious time capturing your lips that are dying for his attention. You fully surrender to him without hesitation, letting the man’s tongue dance inside your mouth. The blended taste of your honeyed cum and his saliva—an intense, rich flavor of ripe raspberries—overwhelms all of your senses.

You pull back when Shinsou grinds himself against you once more. That’s when you feel his large cock bulging through his boxers, teasing you to no end. He shifts a little, and the bed groans. Through half-lidded eyes, you whimper at the sight of Shinsou pumping his hard rock shaft, a bit of pre-cum dripping from the head. It playfully brushes your wet folds, but you can’t wait any longer.

You just can’t.

“Please, Hitoshi,” you beg, not bothering to hide the desperation cracking in your voice. “Please, I—hngh.”

Shinsou squeezes your hips, almost encouraging you to say it. “Tell me.”

“I-I need you,” you quiver. “P-Please, I—”

Your mouth parts with a silent cry when Shinsou sinks his cock. He hisses a bit, feeling the spongy warm walls stretch around him. You mewl as he fills you up, slowly and with great care. The sensation is new yet oddly familiar and satisfies that intense hunger you had the past few nights. You shut your eyes and bite your lip—Shinsou feels amazing, the thick girth of his twitching inside your pussy.

Shinsou’s thumb caresses across your cheek, and you look at him. With a slight nod, Shinsou begins rocking you, the bed creaking with each move. His hips roll like the gentle ocean waves under a clear night sky. There’s no rush, no hurry; Shinsou wants to cherish every single second inside you, and he relishes your lovely moans filling the air.

You wrap one leg around his waist, and he holds onto it with a vice grip. Shinsou soon crashes his entire weight on you as his forearm rests near your face. He groans when your pussy clenches tightly on him.

“That’s right,” Shinsou grunts near your ear, giving you a firm thrust for good measure. “You don’t love him. Not when you’re thinking of me, kitten. Not when I’m fucking you.”

“M’fuck, Toshi!” You cling to him as Shinsou continues to rock you deeper and deeper, his pace pounding you into oblivion. “Oh god, yes…yes…”

He’s hitting you just right, over and over again, with no sign of stopping. You drown yourself in the sea of immense desire. Suddenly you’re captivated with everything Shinsou does to you. It’s his ragged breaths that scorch your skin like a raging wildfire. It’s his massive muscles that mercilessly crushes you into the mattress, trapping you there with no hope of escape. It’s his fingers—rough and enormous—that selfishly claim your skin, reminding you that you belong to him.

At least for tonight.

You gaze into his eyes, raging with lust.

“Repeat after me,” Shinsou rasps in between each breath. “You don’t love him.”

“I...I don’t love him.”

“You love me.”

You nod, mouth trembling. “I love you, Hitoshi.”

Shinsou lets out a feral growl at your final words—words of affirmation that you both know to be true. They make him go wild, each of his thrusts more maddening than the last. You cry harder and dig into his tensed shoulders as Shinsou ravages you like no tomorrow. Yet, he holds onto his promise, and that is satisfying you tonight.

The pleasure builds rapidly throughout your body. You can feel it bubbling inside you, thrashing like waves during a stormy sea. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth opens wide, singing incoherent praises to Shinsou as he rides you through your orgasm. He holds you with all his strength when his own fervid release hits you seconds later.

Shinsou heaves loudly above you, sweat beads rolling down his forehead. His eyes never waver away from yours, admiring your flushed face. It’s beautiful, perfect even. You forgot how much Shinsou looks at you with such devotion that you break down crying.

“Hey,” he says, whispering your name. His thumb wipes a few tears from your cheek, and you flutter your gaze at him again. “It’s okay. You don’t have to cry.”

“I miss you, Hitoshi,” you croak, the tears raining down your face. “Fuck, I miss you so much.”

A faint smile barely reaches his eyes.

“I miss you, too,” he confesses, and you hear the regret flowing through his voice. Still, Shinsou fights through and swears: “But, I promise you will always be mine, okay? You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“Okay,” you sniffle and gaze into his eyes.

You believe him with all your heart.

Shinsou reaches down and captures your lips once last time. The kiss holds a wistful longing for the old days of your enthralling relationship—the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the absolute blessings and worst mistakes imaginable, it all meshed perfectly together to create this messy mosaic called love. And Shinsou burns this into the depths of your soul where you feel it.

You absolutely feel it.

Shinsou buries his head into the crook of your neck, and you hold him, afraid to let him go. You wish to remain like this forever, sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. So you close your eyes and pray he won’t disappear.

But nothing stays forever. Shinsou’s familiar warmth and crushing weight slip through your grasp, becoming more like faded memories that float inside your head. You open your eyes and release a deep sigh—you’re alone again. All tired, sweaty, and wet, especially as you remove your fingers from your soaked pussy.

No other man could satisfy you; Shinsou made sure of that. He reminds you every single night, haunting your fantasies whether you’re getting off on your own or fucking with the new guy who wormed his way into your life. And you, as always, scream for Shinsou—discreetly or without shame.

Because you’ll always think of him. You’ll always fuck him. And you’ll always love him, repeating those words with your last dying breath.

Love is complicated, y’all. And yes, I couldn’t resist doing a little ~twist~ for the ending HA!

Thanks for reading!!

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #alolo sins

167 notes · View notes

greatnessordeath · 3 years ago

Text

Come let's watch the rain as it's falling down

Tags: mature, aged up characters, swearing, alcohol, blood, pining, Wordcount: 4.7k

Notes: As I mentioned in a earlier post: this is the first chap of my wip slow burn Bakugou x reader fic (contains Halloween snippet). The future chaps will be posted on ao3 only (i think... I dunno. I like tumblr, but im quite confused with how to post longer fics ?) So i'd be superduper happy if you swing by :) Read it on ao3

Do not repost. Minors do not interact please

Chapter 1: After work obstacles Finally it's the end of the day. The glassdoors slide shut behind you and the cool night air embraces your figure outside the hospital.

You sigh exhausted and massage your aching neck. The overtime has been piling up lately and you’re not sure if you’re still a functioning individual. You could pass as a zombie right on the spot without any further disguise. Your skin is pale, the dark circles will soon become parents to a new pair of cute baby circles and your h/c hair lacks shine.

Then so be it, you think cynical to yourself. You don't care how you look. At the risk of sounding pathetic - it's all worth it. You work as an intern at trauma surgery. Your days are a rush. A roller coaster ride, a box of chocolates, a lottery - whatever comparison you bring up, it all leads down to one truth: you never know what awaits you. Injured civilians, hurt heroes, the daily grind of accidents and disease and on top messed up quirks. But it doesn’t matter what you get, as long as you’re able to help.

You’re not gifted with a healing quirk like many of your colleagues who pursue the same dream of becoming a doctor. Your quirk is useful to say the least, but far away from special, or powerful. Your eyes ignored the physics of light which made it possible for you to see in the dark. That's it. You wanted to make a difference for people and fortunately you didn’t need a quirk to do so.

Your breath condenses visibly in the cold outside in small white clouds. The air is crisp and you love it. It clears your head and you can practically feel the weight lifting off of your tense shoulders. Despite that, you still pull the collar of your jacket closer to your neck. You can't wait to take a hot shower, wash off the stinging smell of disease and disinfectant, and bury yourself under your covers.

You check the time only to see that - again - it’s past midnight. When your eyes pass the calendar indication on your watch, your stomach knots in discomfort. It's only two weeks till Christmas eve. Maybe everything will be easier to bear when you have to endure the judging looks of your family as a mindless zombie, who knows? You'd just have to work harder to indifferently endure her nagging questions about your personal life.

‘Wow brain. Is this everything you can come up with?’ Another deep sigh leaves your lips. ‘ No, I can't, even if I wanted to. If I work any more, I’ll fall over ,’ you think matter-of-factly.

You’re well aware that repression is a bad tactic for dealing with pent-up feelings, but you’re only human. One, so desperate to seriously consider the zombie option for a moment and indeed one who’d rather volunteer 70 hours a week to avoid the stupid family dinner.

Of course it wasn't always like that but the couple years after your graduation passed so quickly. You threw yourself into work, finally you were ready to gain practical experience, after years of drilling. You made it to an internship at a well known clinic in Musutafu and you’re more than proud to be this privileged. You want to exert, make yourself worth the job and be the best you. You pushed your limits on a regular basis.

Although you never wanted to be a hero who fights villains, you adopted the motto of the hero academy not far away. PLUS ULTRA. Never give up, move on, go beyond . You burn so hot for your goals that your own moroseness makes you cringe occasionally. But you always smile it away. Of course, the lack of time that came with working long shifts and overtime resoluted in a puny social life. Work became your life much to the dismay of your Mom. When you cautiously dropped the info that you're planning to work through Christmas completely this year your Mom had looked at you like a deer in headlights.

At least you could talk yourself out with the fact that colleagues with children were preferred. But that usually only opened the door for the next dispute. Your desire to have children. Urghhh. Your only valid desires were the regular consumption of fudgy brownies and a good fuck. You feel the urge to hit your head against a lonely street lamp as you shuffle despondently from the clinic's huge parking lot and turn right onto the main street.

You like the quiet darkness of the night. It's the opposite of the hectic everyday life in the hospital and you appreciate the change. Given to your quirk you've always been more of a night owl than an early bird. When you walk down the stairs to the subway tunnel after a few minutes, you can already hear the rumble of the train. You’re lucky to catch it without waiting. The familiar screeching of the brakes is the only sound far and wide. You are often the only person on the platform - and today is no different.

You get in and sit down at a window place. You spread out your legs in the empty compartment and your sore feet enjoy the relief a lot. You share a whole wagon with only three more people. They are typing lost in thought on their phones, listening to music or already dozing off.

You look at your sunken face in the reflection of the glass pane and can practically hear your mother's reproachful voice. Your mind wanders to your latest phone call and replays.

“Hi, how are you, hun?”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, it doesn't sound like it. ...Extra hours again?”

“Yes. My colleague caught the flu so I'm covering up for him.” A small pause stretches between you and you already know what's about to come when your Mom speaks again.

“Would you listen to me for a sec and don't throw a tantrum, kay?” Your silence is approval enough to get her going.

“Your voice always sounds so worn out when I call you and… I’m worrying. Don't you think you’d need a break, too?”

“Mom, I told you I'm just a little tired. There's no need to worry.” You try your best to sound persuasive - like always without the desired effect. “But that's what Moms do! You’re my child, so of course I worry... I mean you can't keep doing this forever. You're young and beautiful - now's the time to live! You know? You should throw yourself out there and enjoy your life instead of giving your best years away like this.” You huff at that. “Drop it, okay? I choose this life by myself. Can you please stop criticizing me every single time about it? I am not having this discussion with you again.” “Y/n. This is not about your profession. This is about you working so hard for others while ignoring your own needs. Even you have to rest at some point! Think about it, hun. How will you help others, if your own body is collapsing?”

“You’re totally going overboard. It's not like that. And the last time I checked I was completely fine with sewing people together, but don’t mind me.” You retort sarcastically with instant regret. You’ve had this so often, you stopped counting. She always manages to flip the switch and you hate yourself for the lack of control. You don’t want to escalate things so you try to backpedal. “Listen, can we please stop talking about this?“ “You’re incorrigible. Stubborn as a mule.” she determines. “Stubborn like Dad, you mean.” You wear a weary smile and a twitch pinches your heart. You know she thought about him, too, based on the sigh you hear on the other side of the phone. “At least make sure you eat properly,” her tone softened audibly. “How am I ever going to have grandchildren, if your bony ass is useless to attract a handsome doctor?” “Mom!” “What? ... Come on, don’t make a fuss.” It was meant to be a joke but it only makes you swallow uncomfortable. Those statements of her are pressuring you, no matter how lax they were said. You sure did wish for a change of subject, but not to open the next tinderbox. “I… I need to hang up now. It was nice hearing from you.“ “Promise me to take care of yourself, alright?” You hum in agreement. “Love you, hun.” “Love you, too. Bye Mom.“ You reciprocate the empty phrase with equivalent affection.

---

You lean your forehead against the cold glass and take a deep breath. You don't want to think about it, you just want to go home, call it a day.

... seven more stations. Then change and four more to go. You allow yourself to zone out and watch the endless blackness of the underground pass by. There is something soothing about it and you manage to collect yourself as you close your eyes.

When the train slowly pulls into the next stop, the doors open automatically and a small breeze refreshes the musty air. You barely notice, because you’re so used to it. You’re trying to remind yourself to buy wrapping paper when you’re going to go for groceries tomorrow morning as a noise disturbs your thoughts.

Suddenly you hear loud rumbling and your eyes search confused for the origin of the commotion. A dark figure gallops breathless down the escalator to the platform at a mad pace.

Well, the trains do arrive relatively unevenly at night - facts - but to be in such a hurry seems exaggerated to you.

The guy hastily takes two steps at a time and carries a large backpack that bounces up and down. You’re left to wonder what or who he might be running off, as he dares a big jump at the end of the stairs, but terribly fails. You can see how the extra weight of the backpack affects his center of gravity so that he stumbles and hits the asphalt hard. Based on the way his foot bends under his weight, you assume he has at least a fractured ankle if not worse.

Your helper instinct is activated immediately.

In an instant you jump to your feet and hurry to the open door without hesitation when abruptly a detonation shakes the underground. An incredibly loud bang roars through the tunnel and everybody gasps in surprise as the floor vibrates slightly under their feet. Dazzling lights blind your view and you put a protective hand in front of your eyes.

'What the...?'

You get the uneasy feeling that something is wrong.

"Excuse me, may I help you?" You offer to the fella on the floor when your vision clears again.

Your question doesn't seem to get through to him. But it shakes him out of his paralyzed state. Without losing much time, the guy gets up again. With hazel eyes wide with fear, he looks back at the escalator.

With your hands reassuringly raised you take more steps towards him. "Sir? Are you hurt? I'm a med-" you try again, but are cut off by another voice.

"You can't escape me, Extra!" "Out of the way!" The backpack guy yells and rushes towards you. Is he chased by a villain? Please no!

Just as this thought buzzes through your head, a new figure appears on the platform.

You freeze when an unmistakeable spiky blonde emerges from the moving staircase and a burnt smell fills the air.

Dynamight?!

“Still tryin’ to escape me, huh,” the hero shouts and takes up the chase with his signature explosion drive.

Realization hits you hard, but it's too late. When Dynamight is the pursuer, this will logically make the other guy the criminal. ‘Shit!’ Speaking of it - realization isn’t the only thing that hits you. The delinquent pushes you aside with a pained expression to get in the subway and you hit the ground. White dots explode in front of your eyes as the pain shoots through your head. The impact is so hard it even drives the air out of your lungs. You’re conscious but you feel strangely foreign in your own body. ‘What’s wrong with me? My natural reflexes did nothing! Wait… I can't move!’

You grimace with strain or at least you try to but your muscles won’t obey. ‘ Did he use his quirk on me?’ You can only speculate.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see how Dynamight's silhouette hurries past you.

"Eijiro ...!" He shouts urgently as his fiery eyes flicker over you for a split second.

"Yes! Go get him, Katsuki!" screams the redhead in response.

You didn't recognize another hero entering the subway. It must have slipped your attention as you were caught up with the whole situation. Red Riot kneels down by your side and looks you up and down for injuries. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now. Did he touch you?” You try to stir again, but every inch of your sore body feels so incredibly heavy. The pinky finger doesn't even twitch when you try to move it.

“… ca … n't m ...ove”, you choke out with wide eyes. His gaze softens and his kind eyes look at you knowingly. “Ah, thought so. It’ll be alright. He used his quirk on you. We assume he can paralyze people. But it won’t last long.” He tries his best to keep you calm. “Everybody get off NOW!” Dynamight barks in his usual grim voice and it echoes painfully in your head. You try to look out for him, but your field of view is too limited - and you’re petrified anyway. The few passengers shuffle out of the train immediately with angsty faces.

Red Riot takes charge and directs them to gather in a safe distance to the potential danger zone. He advises them to wait and faces you again. “You can’t stay here. I have to pick you up.” “Goo h… heel ...lllp ‘im?” Your eyes dart to the train again. “Trust me, this is a pushover.” He smiles genuinely, “I'd like to have you safe, just in case.”

You don’t protest because you can’t. The way he picks you up makes you blush lightly. Being carried bridal style by a stranger stirs something in you. The warmth of his bare chest is welcoming, the sensible heartbeat soothing against your torso. He's a hero - probably doing these kinds of things on a daily basis and albeit his very respectful touch, you feel silly. Hanging in his arms like a sack of spuds isn’t exactly how you like to picture yourself. “Ah shit. You’re bleeding.” He states concerned as soon as he notices the small red blotch on the back of your head.

A faint waft of hair gel tingles your nose, as he sits you down on a bench. He tugs at you to make sure you won’t fall. “Let me have a closer look…” He examines your wound diligently and smiles at ease. “You’re lucky. it's nothing but a scratch.”

He basically radiates off pure safety with his gentle behaviour. You do feel taken care of and it's nice in a way. But what bothers you, is the mere but heavy fact, that you’re absolutely helpless. You hate it. You don’t want to cause someone else trouble and the loss of control makes you uncomfortable.

“I suggest that you consistently try to move a finger so you won’t miss the end of the paralysis.” He says assuringly.

How the hell can he be as cool as ice while his partner is having a serious mission? What if something unexpected happens? What if-

He laughs at you and questing faces turn in your direction. “Your brows are already knitting again, I can tell it won’t take much longer.” “With all due respect, Sir, how can you stand here laughing and let your colleague fight all alone?” An older man basically voices your thoughts. You would have picked your words more sensitive, because as soon as it's spoken it appears a rude question. But the redheads' smile only widens. “That's easy. Because I trust him.” The small group of civilians including your muted self react startled. It's not uncommon for heroes to split tasks, but still... “Hm. What’s wrong with helping him anyway?” “See, he trusts me, too. He fights preferably when he doesn't have to worry about the safety of people who may be at risk. This is the best way for him to focus on the villains. My quirk is hardening, which I can use to ward off any harm they might be throwing at us. By getting you out of the line, Dynamight has the best starting point to apprehend the villain. As far as we know, this guys’ quirk requires a melee situation with body contact and Dynamight - unlike me - benefits from this. So we’re using this to our advantage. Plus, we’re at a dead end. He has nowhere to go and I think he hurt his ankle when he jumped the staircase earlier. So this is no real match up, believe me.” There is definitely some truth to his words. But you can’t help but wonder about his confidence. “Nevertheless, please stay behind me at any cost and be aware of the ones around you until this is over.” Fortunately enough it seemed like the guy - you refuse to call him a villain - didn’t want to harm people in the first place. Yes, he pushed you, but only because you were standing in his way. He appealed insecure, even scared, not coldblooded or calculating. God knows hurting people wasn’t his main goal. He must have been pretty desperate for an escape if he thought a subway appeared to be a good idea - with two heroes right on his ass. Obviously one doesn't plan on getting caught, when about to commit a crime, you guess. You don’t know enough to judge... Maybe opportunity made the thief in this case. You sit and wonder, only vaguely paying attention to what happens in the subway. The wagon with Dynamight is at least 50 metres away from you and it's unlikely silent. Naturally he can’t just blow up the train in order to catch the guy, but you can’t really picture him talk him out otherwise. ...It has been a long time since you were so close to a heroic operation, let alone be involved in the middle of it as a “victim”. Whenever you catch a glimpse of him in between people your heartbeat accelerates. He still is as hot as ever - if not hotter. He wears the fucking crown out of self-confidence with even more ease. The years made him broader, steps dripping of assurance, clear-cut features handsome as ever with those sharp crimson eyes. Dynamight … why he of all people? Like an old friend, a notable memory visits you again. You only remember fragments of that evening, except this one encounter. You can see it crystal clear as if it was yesterday. Back then, you were in med school and you had passed an important exam the day before. You had promised your brother that the two of you would go out together like in the old days. It was fun. At least for you. To this day your brother teases you about it and you can’t help but blush every time when he mockingly rants how shameless you’ve been.

---

Halloween eve, years ago

There's heroes and villains everywhere. It's not as packed as it was a few hours ago, but still the streets were roamed by many people. Despite Halloween being supposed to be creepy, most people plainly dressed up as their favorite heroes instead of villains. So a hero's popularity was pretty much measured by how many doppelgangers were walking around.

Needless to say, All Might fans dominated the street scene, totally refusing Endeavor as new Number One Hero. Bakugou saw loads of Froppys among the kids earlier that day. Even dumb Pickachu had fans. Seems like they’re making the best of the provisional license so far.

Unlike his colleagues, Bakugou savours the privilege of his rather bad image. People always hold a fair distance to Dynamight when he's patrolling. Especially on Halloween - nobody wanted to be the idiot who got explosions in their face for mistaking him for a clad friend. It felt inequitable. He was trying to improve his temper - but hands down - he got a long way to go. On the other side he was happy that there would be no pesky fan disturbances like selfies, autographs and chitchat.

Anyways, here he is now, walking the streets with drunk All Mights stumbling home from their night out. The smell of sugar, booze and happy chatter of the people enjoying themselves filled the chilly autumn air.

Bakugou can't help but think of the perfect cover this night would provide for crime. It would be so easy to dress up as literally anyone and hide their real identity. Piece of cake to get lost in the crowd with dozens of doubles, an opportunity he sure wouldn’t let pass if he were a villain.

Because the agencies are aware of that fact, too, they would double the patrols around Halloween. So he won’t let his guard down, even if there were only a few minutes of his shift left.

He continues to observantly strives the streets, always side eying the darker alleys, left behind candy cracking under his soles, as-

“Oh my god, look at you!” someone exclaimed loudly in front of him. In a split second his crimson eyes shift to the source of the sound.

Hawks and Shoto were standing arm in arm in front of him. Hawks had one gloved hand tightly wrapped around Shotos waist and he obviously had trouble balancing their extra weight. Red fluffy plush wings were strapped on his back and the eyeliner was on fleek. With the glasses and an ocher coat it all came together to a solid costume.

IcyHot on the other hand, was way too curvy to match the original. Bakugou could see h/c hair peek out underneath the heterochromatic wig and slender limbs being hugged perfectly in the familiar blue suit. The smile Fem-Shoto threw at him was somehow contagious.

You broke away from Hawks and staggered towards him with shaky knees. Of course you slipped and in a quick reflex Bakugou stretched out his arms to prevent you from falling.

You giggled at that and looked at him in awe. The orangey light of the street lamps gave his ashy hair a saintly halo. You shamelessly took him in and your eyes lingered disrespectfully long on his bare biceps. He halfway expects you to stretch out a hand and stiffens slightly at the thought.

“That's by far the best costume I’ve seen today”, you blurt out, “I swear, Dynamight is sooo hot! Could blow me up any time~”

Bakugou was caught by surprise and lifted a sceptical brow at the statement.

“Shushhh Onee-chan, you’re embarrassing,” whined Hawks with a hand on his neck. ”Come on now, I’ve gotta get you home somehow.”

You weren’t listening at all and grabbed one of his gauntlets to examine it closely.

“Wow, how’d you get them so realistic?” you asked with big eyes full of admiration.

“Oi hands off, Half’n’Half!” he growled dismissively. Resolute but careful not to make you trip again he drew them from your hands.

“Sooo mean~”

“Tch”, he clicked his tongue at you annoyingly.

You lifted your gaze and met his piercing eyes. He noticed your dilated pupils and the familiar smell of beer and smoke radiating off of your clothes. Your cheeks were rosy and glowing, the e/c of your eyes standing out to the red paint on your face.

“Damn you really take this shit seriously, do you? You into roleplay or somethin’?”

“Jeez, y/n stop it!!! I’m so, so sorry…” said the Hawksguy in an apologizing manner shifting his feet in discomfort but not daring to come any nearer to Bakugou. At least he seemed sober enough to recognise him.

"Don’t tell me what to do!” you snapped angry at what appears to be your younger brother and Bakugou bites back a grin hearing one of his standard answers out of your pretty mouth.

As if you were only realising now that Bakugou was still holding you, you straightened your back and made the attempt to stand on your own. Neither your heels nor your knees seem reliable, but you were sticking out your chest confidently.

“I'm sure handsome over here would say something if I'm overstepping the bounds, right?”

You throw him your best charming smile, boldly laying a hand on his broad chest leaving him startled about your straightforwardness.

There was no denying that you were indeed buzzed … and going for it.

But albeit pretty privilege, he couldn’t let you touch him like this. The last thing he wanted was involuntarily taking advantage of your situation.

“Excuse me Shoto, but this is inappropriate for me in public,” he answers with a playful grin and removes your hand.

“Huh? And beating my ass at the sports festival in our first year wasn’t or what?” You retort with raised brows and a challenging grin. You lean in close and whisper in a low voice “We both know you wouldn't stand a chance against me now~”

Goosebumps erupt in his neck where a hint of your breath tickles his skin.

‘I kind of wanna give it a shot just to see you fail’ , he thinks to himself and enhances the effort to keep his gaze neutral.

Meanwhile Hawks face was a solid beet red and he was visibly at unease about what to do about the fact that his sister was blatantly obvious flirting with frickin Dynamight.

He desperately bowed a full ninety degrees and repeated his apologies. “God, no! Honestly I’m so sorry she’s …” he wildly gestures in your direction in a loss for words ”like this. It's my fault she's had too much. I was going to bring her home anyway. I'm sorry if we caused you trouble.”

“Nugget, I can hear you! You’re so rude!” You turned swaying to your brother and raised your forefinger in a lecturing manner. “I'm the older one and I am fully responsibly aware of my limits. So would you please just shut up when I'm trying to make a move here. You're supposed to be my wingman !”

Bakugou snorts amused at the awful pun and apparently Hawks looked like he could compete against Aizawa in an I-don’t-get-paid-enough-for-this-crap-staring-contest.

After a moment of silence it's you who addresses Bakugou again: ”Soooo, what are you up to in a more private setting, Boomboy?”

Before he could answer, Hawks steps in and grabs you by the hand.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this. If you were responsibly aware like you say, you would’ve recognised him. Just let him be, baka.”

You tried to laugh him off, but the seriousness in his voice lets your happy-drunk confidence falter. “I - I would have… recog...nised…” your eyes flicker from Bakugou to Hawks as realization finally hits your brain.

You blink multiple times. “Oh.”

The grin on Dynamights face splits further as your cheeks begin to bloom in a scarlet hue. “I… “ You squirm to find words but not a single tone leaves your lips. He thinks it's adorable and watches how you let yourself be pulled away. You don't fight back anymore.

“My pleasure, Shoto. I hope you get home safely.” He emphasizes ‘Shoto’ in a way that makes your stomach drop to your knees and you turn to face him.

“It's Y/n. And I stick to my words...”, you bite your bottom lip and your expression is a flustered mess. “...Dynamight is the hottest.” You grin sinisterly over your shoulder as your figures slowly disappear behind a flock of people.

The last thing Bakugou can hear is the protest of your brother.

“-- I swear I'm never going to make you pancakes ever again if you don't stop simping right now!”

“What is your goddamn problem, Nugget? You know, sometimes I wonder how you manage to walk with this massive branch up your ass.”

*smack* “Ouch! Hahaha”

--- Whenever you remember this night, a lewd smile sneaks its way to your face. Yes, you were shameless but you didn’t regret anything. You had spent countless evenings imagining what could have been. Who would have expected you to run into Dynamight? To your own demise you catch yourself regretting what you thought earlier about your zombie appearance. You suddenly wish you wouldn’t have been too lazy to do a touch up on your makeup. Seconds pass and you shrug off the awful shallow thought. Now is obviously not the time to be a thirsty bitch. It takes you a moment to notice that your shoulder blades actually lifted. Awestruck you feel a strange tingling washing over you. Your whole body feels like it's dipped in a buzzing beehive. The prickling fights back the cool numbness and you gasp in joy as your muscles obey you again. You luckily wiggle your toes as the last bit of stiffness disappears. You stand up to the small group of bystanders, but your blood circulation is still slow. Your knees threaten to give in, but a sturdy arm helps you stand. “Whoa, you okay already?” “Yeah, at least I thought so.” You slyly try a pressed smile to the observant redhead. “Good. Do me a favor and take it easy, okay? You should let the emergency doc check you for a concussion later.” “I probably should.” You close your eyes to fight back the spinning of your head. “You sure you’re okay?” “Ah yes. It just took me a moment, but I'm fine. Thank god this is over.” You sigh with relief, as you regain your composure and detach from the hero. “Screw god and rather thank me!”

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha fic #bakugou x reader #mha fanfic #slow burn #bakugou x you #first chapter

19 notes · View notes

chicagotvnation · 4 years ago

Text

A Hurricane - Jay Halstead/Reader

Pairings:Jay Halstead x Reader / Jay Halstead x You

Warnings: Shots fired, love, injured, mentions of blood

Words Count: 1115

Prompt: A hurricane takes human form

Summary: Your a hurricane, always coming in and ruining everything, at least thats what you thought. You were apart of intelligence on a buy and of course things went south because when did they not?

Author Note: This is the first time I have posted to this profile with my writing but you can check more of my writing out on both Wat pad and archive . I haven’t written anything in months besides essays so if you like this go check out my other work and let me know. im almost done with my degree and hoping to get more written.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuroraBurrows

https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraBurrows/profile

You were a hot mess wrapped in an human. The past always followed you and no matter what you did you tried to escape it. To the point that you even became a police officer. The only thing that mattered to you was to find all the people. Growing up in Chicago you got to know the police force and one officer in particular. Hank Voight. He knew you were a good kid who was constantly put into a bad situation. He saved you, He helped you out of the trouble you were always tied too.

Years later after your father was arrested and put in jail, Hank got you a spot in the police academy and after working hard on the grind you found yourself handpicked for his unit. Not because he was like a father to you, but because you were one of the best of the best and you worked hard for that title.

You were young and hella good at solving puzzles which is why you were so good at putting things together. This case was no different. Your CO had some information which lead you to a dealer. You went undercover for a buy with one of your co workers Jay, Jay Halstead. The man you admired for the war he fought for his country, and well he wasn’t bad to look at either. Your informant introduced you “this is Sam, and Jake.” She introduced the two of you “they are were the ones I was telling you about” She started to explain and you went to try and ya know how much y’all were looking to buy. Some thing unexpected happened. One of the drug dealers associates walked up behind him and looked you right in the eye “y/n” he said to you. You tried to quickly play it off “I think you have me confused with someone else” you say to the man “I am sam and im just trying to do a simple deal here”

“She’s a cop” he said simply “I would know she is my daughter”. You closed our eyes for a quick second as you opened them you saw that guns were pointed at you and Jay “woah woah woah this man is crazy!” You said trying to back track the deal “I have never met this guy in my entire life.” You said holding up your hands

Everything was going south so you did what you had to do. You were a hurricane trapped in human form, always putting people in danger. You Shoved jay out of the way as you heard a gunshot go off and your informant went running off before you quickly jumped over another table and flipped it. In getting Jay out of the way you didn’t even notice you were hit. You quickly pulled out your gun ass the rest of the team came in clearing the bar and getting everyone to safety as you quickly fired back “come on dad you don’t wanna do this” you said out loud

‘Oh but I do” he said as he moved to see you and fired another shot, this time you felt it hit you in the shoulder “its your fault I spent the last 10 years in jail not being able to see my own son grow up, your such a bitch I should have taken care of you a long time ago” ‘fuck” you mumbled holding your shoulder for a second and taking a breath and shifting “thats not my fault you sold and did drugs and whatever else they got you for I had nothing to do with it. With a few more shots fired off you could feel that something wasn’t right. “Hey a/n, stay with me” Jay said as he stood over you. “Everything fine stay with me you are okay” He said putting pressure on your side the last things. You heard before you passed out because all the adrenaline wore off “5021 George I have an injured officer and need assistance now roll an ambulance to my location now” he said into the walkie. As the rest of the team walked over to where you were The ambulance ride was weird it was something you were in and out for. You heard the machines beeping and you saw jay riding with you as he was your partner and “Jay” you said to him before the machines started to beep and you were back out of it. They where able to pull you back and you heard Jays brother Will “don’t worry she will be okay, and maybe you will finally tell her how you feel, dr Roads is the best”

A few hours later you woke up to jay sitting in the chair next to you. “You got to stop doing that” he said back to you when he saw your eyes open ‘what saving your life because you have slow reflexes?” You wondered with a slight smile and a soft chuckle that hurt so you made a face

“No making me scared that I am going to wake up and you are not going to be there tomorrow your not indestructible y/n” Jay said back to you “seriously you should have aborted the mission, if you thought you were compromised” “he isn’t usually that smart” you said back to him “I kinda thought he would play along but I guess he has a grudge” you said looking around at all the monitors “wait Jay, are you okay is that your blood?” You asked seeing the bandage on his arm “Yeah guess you were not fast enough, apparently the bullet hit my arm and then went into your side” he said “My arm would have been better than I don’t know you loosing your spleen” he said back to you. “You don’t need a spleen anyways, but you do need an arm’ you said back to him with a wink. “Shut up, you know id follow you anywhere, but sometimes I I really can’t watch you get hurt again. Y/n I am better with you. You can’t do this to me my heart can not handle loosing you” “Actually its you who makes me better” you replied “its kinda why I pushed you out of a bullets path tonight” you said back to him as will walked into the room.

#jesse lee soffer #jay halstead #Jay Halstead x Reader #Jay x reader #Chicago Pd #Jay Halstead x you #Jay Halstead x y/n

83 notes · View notes

thewalkingdead-fan101 · 4 years ago

Text

In this hell Daryl Dixon X Reader Part 14/??

Hey everyone! Part 14 is now here, it’s taken a little longer than anticipated but I am happy to post it now! As usual I hope you all like it and I hope that you're all having an amazing day/night wherever you are! :)

Warnings- SMUT 18+, Blood, Gore, General walking dead depictions, slow burn, swearing.

Day five

I jolted out of my sleep, gasping for air.

My hand found its way to my heaving chest.

The bed beside me lightly creaked as Daryl moved quickly, his knife held tightly in his hand as he searched the tent for any imminent danger.

I look down and check my chest for the gaping bullet whole that had awoken me, to find the skin still intact.

“What?” Daryl asked, his eyes finally settling onto my terrified form.

I swallowed thickly, softly shaking my head.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

I felt the bed move as Daryl sat down, returning the knife to its resting place. I could still feel his eyes burning into my skin.

“Im okay.” I softly smiled, turning to look into his worried eyes.

He shook his head as he laid back, his arms wrapping around my middle, pulling me into him.

His breath lightly fanned across my neck, causing my body to shiver beneath the breeze.

“Nightmare.” He spoke, as he nuzzled into my shoulder. I nodded as his body heat comfortably swallowed me. “It’s nothing.” I I closed my eyes and sighed. “It ain’t nothing.” He shook his head.

My hand reached down and lightly grabbed his, intertwining our fingers. “I’m okay, I’m here.” I lightly squeezed his hand.

His free hand gently squeezed my hip in response. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“Nah-“ “Daryl.” I paused, sighing. “Please, I don’t want to think about it right now.” I finished.

I could feel the soft nod on my shoulder. I felt him move his free hand down to my stomach as he began to softly caress my abdomen, a usual occurrence since we have been at the farm. I smiled softly and closed my eyes, leaning further into his touch.

We laid together in silence for a few minutes, opening my eyes I turn my head, to see his head resting contently on my shoulder.

“Daryl?” I whispered softly. He grunted softly in response, clearly trying to sleep. “Babe?” I softly nudged him. “What?” He asked with an annoyed huff.

“We need to talk about baby names.” I whispered. Daryl scoffed behind me.

“Not now we don’t.” “But we do!” i whined softly. “I don’t care about what we name it.” “Babe.”

“No.” He shook his head, his stubbled cheek rubbing against my shoulder. “Yes.” I argued back, a knowing smile on my face.

“What about a namesake?” I asked, hearing a groan from behind me. “If it’s a girl, we could name her after your mother or my mother.” “No.” He shook his head. “If it’s a boy, we could name him after my father or-“ “Not a chance in hell you are finishing that sentence.” He growled. “Okay, well we don’t have sisters, so I guess we have to think of a girls name.” I spoke as I played with his finger that were intertwined with my own. “We ain’t naming our kid Shane.” He grunted behind me.

“No way.” I chuckled. “Well, do you have any ideas?” I asked turning my head slightly. “It ain’t my job to name ‘em.”

I rolled my eyes at his response.

“Okay, we will get back to the names.” I smiled. “Baby.” He groaned, burying his face into my shoulder.

“Just listen, you fell asleep last night.” I chuckled, rubbing his arm. “I’m 10 weeks in, 10 weeks and five days, meaning in two days I’ll be on 11 weeks.” He nodded against my shoulder.

“Bean is size of a prune, about 4cm long.” “Wish I could see them again.” I smiled softly, thinking about being at the cdc and seeing bean. “He or she is growing their bones, and their facial features are formed.” I smile, thinking about what the baby would look like.

Wether or not they take after Daryl, or myself.

“I hope that they have your eyes.” I smile softly. “Babe?“ “I don’t care about this shit.” He snapped, voice filled with annoyance.

“Oh you don’t care?” I asked pulling away from him, turning to look at him.

Daryls arms tried to keep mE within his hold, sighing as I sat up and crossed my arms, trying to be intimidating. “What are ya’ doing?” He asked, voice monotone. I ignored his questions, moving to climb over him, knees on each side of his hips. Daryl moved his hands to my hips and raised a brow as he watched me.

“I guess, if you don’t care about this ‘shit’.” I raised my fingers in quotation, before leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Then you won’t care about my increased sex drive.” I took his ear gently in my teeth.

Daryl growled and tightened his grip on my hips.

He sent a soft glare my way as I pulled away, a smirk on my lips as I teasingly grinded against him.

-18+ Below-

I could feel Daryl harden beneath me. I looked down between us, glancing at the growing tent in his pants. He sits up, his hands making quick work of slipping his hands under the fabric of my shirt. My hands reached his shirt, lifting it over his head, and dropping it to the floor.

Daryl moved his hands to my breasts, thumbs softly moving over my nipples. I gasped at the light touch and my head lightly rolled back at the sensation. I felt Daryl’s lips sloppily meet my collarbone, kissing along my neck as my fingers curled into his hair.

I gently tugged his head back. He looked into my eyes and let out a low growl as I pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. My palm flattened against his chest, slowly pushing him to lay down. He looked up with questioning eyes when he tried to push himself up, for my hand to gently push him back down. “Stay put.” I whispered, kissing his chest lightly, peppering kisses down his chest and stomach.

My hands lightly pulled his waistband down, Daryl lifting his hips in assistance, kicking his pants to the end of the bed.

I propped myself up onto my elbow, gently grabbing his cock, carefully spitting onto his tip. I spread the mixture of saliva and precum down his shaft with my palm, slowly working my hand up and down his shaft. Daryl shuddered lightly at the feeling, his chest rising heavily with each pump.

My mouth watered at the sight of his glistening cock as it throbbed in my hand. I looked up at him through my lashes, seeing him watching me intently as I lowered my head. I kissed his swollen head, bringing my tongue out to lick it. I brung the tip into my mouth, tongue swirling around the head as he grunted lowly. I looked up through my lashes, to see his head back against the pillow, mouth parted, eyes closed. HIs hands make their way to my hair, pushing my head further down his length. “That’s it baby.” He moaned, as I gag and slobber onto his shaft, as his hips begin to jerk up, into my face. I moan at the feeling of his hands pulling against my hair, causing him to hiss. Glancing up, I meet Daryls eyes as he watches intently. Keeping eye contact I take him as far as I can down my throat, my hand pumping the rest of the shaft.

I began to pick up a rhythm, lifting my head up, almost completely off him and I suck vigorously on the tip. Grunts and moans left his lips at the action, hollowing my cheeks, his hands tightening around my hair. “Feel so good.” He moaned, his head leaning back into the pillow. My free hand reached down to cup his balls, softly massaging them as he tensed under me, hands holding my head down further, bringing tears to my eyes as he chases his release. His hips began to lose their rhythm as he came, hot ropes of cum spurting from his cock hitting the back of my throat as I greedily swallowed. I pulled back, his cock slipping from my lips, his hands dropped from my hair, his left hand caressing my cheek softly. Looking up I see Daryl with his head buried into the pillow, trying to catch his breath. I slowly crawl up next to him, my hand resting on his chest. Leaning over I press a soft kiss to his cheek, only to have him pull me into a kiss. -End of 18+- Daryl pulled away from the kiss, lazily laying his head down. Pulling me closer to his side as he laid there in a post orgasmic bliss, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my palm. It didn’t take long for Daryl to fall asleep. As always, he has no issues falling asleep, the green eyed monster surfacing within me each time he effortlessly falls asleep.

As I tried to force myself to sleep, it seemed that everything was against it.

I groaned as I tried to shift, uncomfortable from the pressure against my bladder. The arm draped over my abdomen became much heavier with each passing breath. I moved my hand to Daryls arm, lightly pushing it back, attempting to move it from around me, failing. I tried pushing his arm again, Daryl huffing and rolling over, a grumble leaving his lips as I gently climb over him. I pulled on one of the thin sweaters that sat in the corner of the tent, hugging it tighter to my body. I pushed aside the door, exiting into the slightly chilled breeze. Looking around I notice how clear the sky is, the stars brightly shining through the midnight sky. The breeze slightly picked up, the trees in the distance swaying, leaves rustling. I quickly did my business, cleaning up and running to the tent, pulling the sweater over my head, discarding it into the corner I got it from. I gently climbed over Daryl, making my way to my side of the bed.

Before making it to my side of the bed, I felt Daryl’s hands wrap around my waist, pulling me down on top of his chest. I looked up to Daryl looking down at me, one eye lazily opened. He closed his eyes, grunting softly as he shuffled around in protest as I tried to move off of him. I chuckled softly, ceasing my movements as Daryl gently squeezed our bodies together. Daryl began to softly snore again and I smile at the man beneath me.

The morning was long, Daryl had woken up first, leaving me to wake up alone. Doing the morning routine, taking off my bandage, checking my leg out, the blisters have shrunk slightly, the redness now a more pale pink instead of the harsh red. We really need to have a conversation about that soon, I thought to myself as I walked toward the campsite.

“That leg is looking good!” Dale called as I took a seat next to Carol.

“Yeah, she’s healing up nicely.” I smiled, turning back to slightly look at the older man. T-dog had decided that he was cooking breakfast today, the rest of us knowing that we’d be waiting a little bit longer than usual. Carl was hanging around Lori, she was making sure to keep him closer than usual with Randall around. I looked over and gave Glenn a soft smile, he looked away and left, entering the RV. Dale and I shared a look as he nodded and followed Glenn. Andrea had crawled out of Shanes tent, not expecting to be seen. She smiled at me awkwardly, rushing to her own tent. Carol shook her head next to me.

Rick had made his way back to the group from the house and met Lori with a kiss as she met him halfway. The married couple stood there for a couple of minutes, talking and looking around discreetly. Rick’s eyes landed on me, Lori’s eyes finding me soon after. Lori nodded towards her husband and rushed off to their shared tent as her husband walked towards me.

T-dog swore as he dropped the pan, quickly looking around and apologising when he saw Carl with a small smirk on his face. “(Y/n)?” Rick’s voice cut the silence. “Rick.” I nodded, looking up. He nodded his head behind him, signalling that he needed to speak privately. I nodded, standing to follow him. “I’m just checking in, seeing how you’re doing.” “Im fine.” I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “After the other day-“ “I understand why you did it.” I cut him off pausing. “No hard feelings.” I lightly tapped his shoulder. Rick chuckled softly as he shook his head.

“Lori was talking to me before, about how instead of Dale watching you, maybe you’d like to watch Beth while Maggie gets some work done around the property?” He paused. “If it’s something that you’d want to do of course.” He nodded. “Yeah, if that’s how I can help around here, im happy to do it.” I smiled. “Ive already spoken to Hershel, he thinks it’s a good idea. He said that he wants to give you a look over, make sure that you’re okay.” “Ill head up now.” I smiled softly. “No, please, wait and have breakfast with everyone.” “I don’t mind-“ “Please, Carl said he was worried about you not being at breakfast.”

I smiled softly and nodded. “Breakfast it is then, let’s just hope that T is finished cooking whatever it is he is wanting to cook.”

Rick let out a laugh, as he looked toward the group. I followed his gaze to see Carol chasing T away from the fire, taking over breakfast. “We’ve been saved.” Rick chuckled nodding as we began to walk back. “Just don’t let him hear you say that.” I muttered as T-dog sat next to Carl, watching Carol continue breakfast.

Hershel had checked my leg out upon my arrival to the house, Patricia telling me to let her know if I needed anything.

I sat on the chair next to the bed as Beth looked up at the ceiling. The colour now completely back, her eyes now holding a shine, instead of the dullness they previously held.

Beth moved her head, her eyes meeting mine. I smiled softly at her as she watched me, her eyes looking down to my leg. Beth’s eyes lingered for a moment before meeting my eyes once more. “A ceiling caved in.” I paused. “Someone started a fire, and the ceiling caved in when we were on a run.” I continued. “Your dad fixed me up.” I smiled. She kept quiet, eyes travelling back to my leg.

Beth slightly opened her mouth and quickly closed it again. “Hey.” I spoke softly, getting her attention. I reached out and moved the hair away from her face. “You don’t have to speak right now, but I’m here for you.” “If you want to speak, im here to listen.” I finished. Beth’s eyes watered as she nodded softly, turning her head back to the ceiling. “Thank you.” She whispered softly.

I smiled at the small response from the girl. “I was speaking to your dad earlier.” I shifted on the seat, bringing my leg up to rest over the other.

“He said that your recovery is good, and that if you are up for eating normal food again, that he will be able to take out the tubes tomorrow.”

Beth’s eyes lit up, watering slightly as she nodded softly. “Really?” She whispered, looking at me. I smiled widely at her, nodding. “Yeah. As long as you’re still good by tomorrow.” I grinned.

Beth slowly moved herself trying to sit up.

I got up, quickly helping Beth until she sat comfortably.

I fluffed a pillow and propped it behind her.

“This thing is so uncomfortable.” She sighed pointing to the tubing.

“Won’t be long, two more days tops.” I smiled. She nodded her head.

“I can go get Maggie if you’d like.” “No.” She shook her head. “I’m sure she would be happy to see you.” “I know, but she has things to do.” “Well, What about your dad? Or Jimmy?”

She shook her head.

“Patricia?” “Not yet.” “Talk to me.” I sat on the edge of the bed, next to her.

She looked up and shook her head.

“I’m not ready.” She paused.

“I’m not ready to be yelled at.” “I don’t think that they’d yell at you.” I paused. “But I understand.” I nodded.

“You aren’t ready, no one can force you to be ready.” “You tell me when you want me to roundup the gang, and I’ll do it. But I’ll only do it when you ask me to.”

Beth smiled softly and nodded her head.

“Can you help me back down?” She asked softly. “Of course.” I nodded.

Once Beth had laid back down, the floor board outside of the door creaked.

I looked over to the door, spotting Lori standing awkwardly by the frame.

“Shane is looking for you.” “I’m busy Lori.” “I’m only here to tell you that he is looking for you.” She shrugged. “I have to stay with Beth.” I shook my head smiling softly towards the young girl.

“I’ll take over. You go to him.” I looked back to Lori who stood with a bored expression.

“Any idea what he wants?” I asked softly. “Nope. You’d best be getting to him though.” “Where is he?” “By the barn.” She rolled her eyes as she stepped into the room.

I stood and looked down at Beth.

“I’ll be back soon.” I smiled at the girl who only slightly nodded. “Did she just-“ “Yes. She is responsive. Hershel is aware.” I nodded walking past Lori.

The walk to the barn wasn’t all that long, the sun glaring down harshly. The closer to the barn I got, the worse the feeling in my stomach grew.

I paused, looking around the exterior, Shane no where in sight. I rounded the corner of the barn, still no Shane in sight.

“Shane!” I called out, no response.

I continued to search for my brother, only to be met by no one.

“Shane! Stop messing around.” “Shane.” I called out again.

I heard a rustle inside of the barn.

I shook my head and walked to the door.

“Shane. I swear to god I will kill you if you keep wasting my time.” I chuckled softly as I stepped closer to the door.

I placed my hand against the door, pushing it open. I was met with dark eyes.

Randall was sat on the floor, hands tied behind his back. Hair messy and framing his face.

“Hey!” He whisper shouted. “Close the door. Before he comes back.” He nodded to the door.

Against my instincts I closed the door, leaving it open two inches.

I stayed near the door, alert to the stranger.

“You have to help me. Please.” He pleaded.

I watched as he attempted to move closer.

“Stop.”

Randall stopped moving, looking up at me.

“You’re really pretty.” He breathed. “Dont. Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” “No, please. I’m not being funny or smart.” He paused. “Please. Please help me. They’re gonna kill me.” He whisper shouted as tears welled in his eyes. “He is crazy. The bald guy.”

I stifled my laughter at his description of Shane.

“He wants to kill me. I’m innocent. I swear. My group, we’re good people.” He tried to plead. “Good people?” I asked, a glare in my eye. “Yeah, we keep to ourselves. We don’t engage in fighting. Your people attacked us.”

I shook my head.

“You’re wrong.” I shook my head. “I swear! You have my word.” “Your word doesn’t mean shit to me.” I scoffed. “Please. You don’t know us.” “I know enough.” “It’s all lies! Whatever they have told you!” “They didn’t tell me anything.”

He looked at me, a confused expression on his face.

“My friend and I, the Asian guy.” I began. “We went on a run. Your buddies set a building on fire with us in it. My friend overheard them talking about what they were going to do to me.”

Randall’s eyes widened as I spoke.

“I don’t have to tell you though do I? I’m sure you already know what it would’ve been. Considering you’re one of them.” “I swear! I’ve never done anything like that! I’m only with them for survival.” He cried. “Please unite me. Let me go. I’ll disappear.”

I opened my mouth to respond.

The door burst open, light illuminating the barn, Shane’s silhouette blocking some of the light.

“You. Outside. NOW.” Shane glared at me.

I nodded, quickly slipping past Shane.

“Wait for me.” He turned his head slightly.

I watched as Shane walked in, slamming the door closed. I jumped as the hinges creaked and the wood slammed against the frame.

“No, no, no please.” I could hear the muffled voice of Randall plead.

I heard the grunt coming from my brother, the Yelp from Randall and the contact of Shane’s fist to Randall’s stomach.

I could hear the repeated contact of fist to skin, the cries coming from Randall and the grunts coming from Shane with each hit.

I waited for ten minutes until the door opened.

Peering into the barn I could see a slumped Randall on the ground.

Shane strode out of the Barn, closing the door behind him, shaking his hand and cracking his knuckles.

He was mad, which seemed to be an understatement.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He sneered as he walked towards me. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head.

Shane shook his head and scoffed.

“Are you an idiot? You must be. Going in there with that guy.” “Shane I didn’t know that that’s where he was being kept.” “What did he say to you?” “Nothing.” “Don’t lie to me.” He grabbed my shoulder hard, nodding his head down and looking at me through his lashes.

“He asked me to let him go.” “And you were going to do it?” He scoffed moving back. “What?! No! I wasn’t going to! I’m not stupid!”I shook my head watching as Shane paced.

“He tried to tell me his group was harmless.” “No one is harmless.” He looked down and inspected his knuckles. “I know that.” “What the hell were you doing in there?” “I was looking for you. Heard a noise and thought you were in there.” “Looking for me?” He asked. “Yeah, Lori told me you were looking for me.” “I didn’t think you’d come.” He scoffed. “Then why’d you send for me?”

“We needed to talk.”

“Then lets talk.”

Shane nodded, moving away from the barn and leaning against a tree. I followed had and stood back slightly. “I’ve been thinking that it’s time for us to move on.” “What?” “We should leave.” “Leaving would be idiotic.” I paused, looking at the dirt. “It’s safe here, for all of us, for the group, for Carl.” “When I say we should leave, I mean us. Not the group.” I looked up, making eye contact with my brother as she crossed his arms.

“Excuse me?” “Come on. Just you and me, The Walsh duo again.” “Shane-“ “Hear me out.” He paused, raising a palm. “You pack a bag, I pack a bag, we take a car and just go. We’ll head to Fort Benning.”

“We don’t need these guys. They’re going to get us killed.” “Shane, we aren’t leaving.” I shook my head. “It’s safe here. We’re a family here.” “You and I, we’re family.” He corrected. “I’m your brother. I’ll protect you.” “I don’t doubt that Shane but I am not leaving.” “Cause of Daryl?” He scoffed. “Yeah. Actually. Because of him.” I returned the scoff. “This is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had Shane.”

I began to pace as Shane began to argue his point.

“He doesn’t care about you, the only thing that you’re good for is being on your back for him, it’d be safer for you to come with me.” “I don’t care what you say Shane, im not leaving.” “I can’t believe you’d do this.” He shook his head. “Do what?” I asked incredulously.

“Abandon your brother.” “I didn’t abandon you Shane.” “You don’t get to guilt me into leaving with you by saying that.” I spoke through gritted teeth, taking a step forward and standing firm. “Because you were the one that abandoned me a long time ago.” I poked his shoulder, turning to leave. Shane’s hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back. “Thats not fair.”

I could hear the clanking in the trash bin as the glass bottles hit the sides, finally landing on the bottom of the bin. I held the blanket tighter to my chest, trying to prepare myself for what is yet to come.

The next sound I heard was the creak of the hinges and the sound of the screen door slamming against the chipped wooden frame. Heavy boots thudded against the hardwood floors, the sound of glass shattering from pictured being knocked from the wall. I shivered against the blanket, bringing it up to my face, trying to level my breathing out.

Light hit the wall above me as the door opened, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting into the room.

I tightly closed my eyes, trying my best to make sure my breathing was even. “You should be asleep you little shit!” A deep voice bellowed. I felt the tug of the blanket being ripped from me. My body began to tremble more as the bitter air stung my skin.

My right eye slightly opens to see the goosebumps raising on my arms.

The familiar feeling of his hands gripping my hair made me let out a whimper. My body hit the ground with a harsh thud as I yelped. Davids hands held my head against the ground as he unclipped his belt, listening as he pulled it from his pants. I heard the belt fly through the air, hitting my back repeatedly. I screamed with each lashing I got. The leather sharply hit my spine, my mouth hanging open, as the screams died down. My throat hoarse and stinging from the screams. “You worthless little shit!” He spat into my ear harshly as he threw his belt to the side standing up. “She’d still be here if it weren’t for you!” He screamed, kicking me in the ribs. I did my best to curl into a ball, to block the oncoming hits, failing as it only encouraged him to kick harder.

I had been living with David for seven months now.

CPS had decided to leave me in the care of David, which seemed like the best choice at the time. Living with David and his girlfriend Chelsea was great, until it wasn’t. Chelsea had broken up with David, ultimately breaking his heart. I’d overheard their conversation, it was the eve of my fifteenth birthday. “I’m sorry David, But I can’t stay.” She sighed. “No Chels, Please. You can’t leave!” He pleaded. “Davie, I’m not her mother. I’m not ready to be a mother.” “You don’t have to be a mother!”

“David, im only 23. I have a life ahead of me, and you’re holding me back. She’s holding me back.” Chelsea spoke, picking up her things and walking out of the door for the last time. I laid on the floor, pain shooting through my body as I sobbed, tucked into a ball. The only audible sounds being that of my heartbeat and his boots echoing down the hall.

“No, You left me with David.” I paused, grasping his wrist with my free hand and throwing it away from me. “That wasn’t fair Shane.” I watched Shanes face contort in confusion.

Dinner was awkward. Andrea had been shamelessly throwing herself on Shane, who was just watching Lori. Lori sat with her husband and son, throwing daggers at Andrea and Shane with her eyes. Glenn sat with Dale and Carol, often speaking words with them before longingly staring at the house. Daryl had decided that it was his night to watch Randall, not before Shane took him aside to speak. Since their conversation, Daryl had barely looked at me, making me wonder what was said between both men. Daryl was quick with eating his dinner, leaving to take over for T-dog. I began to eat my dinner, and watched as Carl sat with his plate, pushing around the beans with his fork, a disgusted expression plastered on his face. I smiled at the boy, standing and walking over to him. I held my plate over his, pushing the chicken from my plate onto his, smiling at him as he looked up. “You need this more than I do.” I smiled, quickly ruffling his hair. Lori glared in my direction, obviously not all that happy with my close proximity to her son. I nodded my head towards her and made my way back to my seat. Shane shook his head as he looked down at his own plate, looking back up, his eyes made contact with my own.

He opened his mouth to speak, quickly closing it again. I ate the rest of the food on my plate, heading off to my tent. I laid down on the bed, almost instantly falling asleep.

Day Six

The tent fabric was ripped open, jolting me out of the light sleep I had been in. Sitting up, I hold out Daryl’s knife that he kept by the bed, ‘by the bed’ meaning under his pillow. I slowly lower the knife. Looking around who stood in the doorway, I peered outside, the sky still midnight blue. “What the hell was that for?” I dead-panned. “Ya’ were alone with Randall.” Daryl looked down. “Did he touch ya?” “No, he didn’t.” “Did he try to?” “No. He asked me to let him go.” I scoffed, pausing. “As if I’d do that.” I shook my head.

Daryl nodded his head, slowly kicking his shoes off, stripping down moving towards the bed. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” He mumbled, stepping closer to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, placing his head in his hands. His scars on his back bare for me to see. My hands gently reached for his back, softly caressing his back, my fingers ghosting over his scars. His back tensed briefly, before relaxing under my touch. “Babe, talk to me.” I whispered, climbing behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, softly kissing the scar along his shoulder. “I don’t like knowing he laid eyes on ya.” “Hey.” I spoke softly, moving to the side of him.

My hands softly grabbing his face, turning his head to look at me. “I’m okay, I’m here.” I paused.” “Daryl, I’m yours.” I smiled softly, kissing his forehead. I watched as Daryl turned himself around on the bed, reaching around and hugging me. We laid down, Daryl reaching over and turning off the dull lantern. “What time is it?” I asked as I looked up to Daryls face in the now mostly dark tent. “Two.” He mumbled as he shuffled closer, arms slightly tightening as we both began to fall into a deep sleep.

The bed moved from beneath me as Daryl shot up and out of the bed. I jumped as he rushed and pulled his jeans on. I looked at him, rubbing my eyes and propping myself up on my elbow as I watched. “Hey, what-“ “I got shit I need to do.” “Did you need to spring up like that? Almost gave me a heart attack.” I sighed. “I’m late.” he nodded as he picked up his crossbow, quickly leaning down and kissing the top of my head. Daryl turned and practically ran from the tent. I sat up on the bed trying to piece together the last five minutes. I got up, quickly pulling on some shorts before exiting the tent. The sun felt like it was brighter than usual. The sound of cicadas more prominent in the air. I walked to the camp, watching as Andrea and Shane got into the Hyundai and left. Lori watching with her arms crossed. Carol was watching Carl, who’d been helping her carry the washing back from the makeshift line we had made. I walked closer to Carol and Carl, my hand messing up his hair, causing him duck and pout, putting the basket to the ground. “Hey!” He whined as he did his best angry impression, quickly dropping his act, smiling widely. “Hey yourself kiddo.” I smiled as he hugged me gently. Carol smiled at the two of us, as she separated the washing into piles on the table. “(Y/n), can we hang out today?” Carl asked, a hopeful smile on his freckled cheeks. “I don’t see why not, just make sure you ask your mom first.” I smiled as I helped Carol seperate and fold the washing. “Ill do it now!” He claimed, quickly bee-lining to Lori, who turned as she heard him calling for her. She smiled and hugged her son, looking down as he spoke. “What’s going on with you two?” I turned to look at Carol, who was looking down as she folded a pair of jeans. “With who?” “You and Lori.” She nodded. “Dont think I haven’t noticed.” She began, sighing as she turned to look at me. “We had a disagreement.” “There is more to it than that.” She chuckled, placing a shirt on top of one of the piles. “You guys were inseparable, the past week you guys have barely looked at each other, let alone speak to one another.” “Things change, People change.” I shrugged.

“I’ve noticed a lot of that too.” She nodded. “What do you mean?” “Without Sophia around, all I can do is observe.” She blankly stared ahead. “Carol-“ “Please, I don’t need anymore sympathy.” She smiled softly. “Go, don’t leave him waiting.” She motioned to Carl who was running back, his hat now perched on his head. I smiled and nodded, turning to hug her. “If you need anything-“ “I know honey.” She nodded.

I turned away from Carol and watched as Carl started walking toward the house.

“Did you ask your mom?” I asked a small smile evident. “Yeah! She said it was okay! Come on! Lets go!” Carl smiled. “Okay, okay!” I laughed following him. “Now what can we do?” He looked up grinning. “Well, we could go inside, play Scrabble, Monopoly, maybe read a few books.” I shrugged, smiling down at the boy. “Can we go somewhere?” “And where would we go?” I asked looking down at him with a questioning smile. “I don’t know, we could go for a hike!” He exclaimed as we walked up the stairs. “I think we can do that.” I smiled. As we got closer to the door, it opened. Maggie smiled at us as she held the small basket to her hips. “Hey.” She smiled at Carl looking up to me and nodding to the basket. “I was just about to look for you.” She nodded. “Oh?” “Yeah, im going to head up and give these to the horses, was going to see if you wanted to come with.” She smiled, lifting the basket up, showing Carl and myself the apples that filled it halfway. “Can I feed them?” Carl quickly spoke. I looked between Maggie and Carl. Maggie smiled and nodded. “Yes!” She exclaimed excitedly. “That would help me out a lot actually.” She smiled handing the basket to Carl. “You guys can go give them these and I can stay here and do some work.” She grinned as he smiled wider than usual. “Cool!” He nodded. Maggie nodded, walking back inside a smile prominent on her face.

“This is going to be so cool!” He beamed, excitedly making his way to the stable with the basket. “Have you seen these guys?” I asked. “The horses?” He asked pausing. “Not yet, I mean i have seen them, but I haven’t been near them.” He smiled. I smiled as we continued making our way to the stable.

Once we got to the stable, Carl stopped, smiling as he looked up at me. “You ready?” I asked. He nodded, quickly walking ahead once more.

I looked over to the right stall, smiling as I saw the familiar face looking at me. A loud whinny sounded as I stepped towards the stall. “Hey girl.” I smiled Betsy’s neck extended over the gate, searching for my hand, nudging it when it was within reach. Betsy nickered as my hand softly patted her neck. I chuckled softly as she sniffed my head. “Woah.” I turned to see Carl watching as Betsy and I greeted each other. “Carl, meet Betsy, Betsy meet Carl.” I smiled softly, motioning for him to come closer. Carl stepped closer, standing beside me, smiling as Betsy dipped her head and sniffed his shirt, moving down to the basket and taking an apple and splashing the two of us in a small shower of apple juice. Carl laughed and stepped back. “What is this one named?” He asked motioning towards Nelly. “This one is Nelly.” I smiled, moving over to the next stall. “Nelly.” He repeated, following me. Nelly extended her neck and leant over the gate, sniffing both Carl and myself, moving to the basket like Betsy did, taking an apple.

Both horses neighed, raising and lowering their heads as Carl placed the basket to the floor. I leant down, grabbing an apple and holding it flat on my palm. “If you want to feed them, make sure your palm is flat.” “Why?” “So they don’t accidentally bite you.” I smile. “So I hold it like this?” He asked, showing me his palm. He held the apple flat in his palm, raising both the apple and his palm up to Nelly’s face. I moved over and lowered his hand.

“Let her reach down.” I smiled as she hesitantly reached down to eat the apple.

I moved my palm down and to the side, watching as Betsy reached down and took the apple happily.

Carl began to giggle as Nelly took the apple. “It tickles.” He continued to giggle and slowly removed his hand as she took it. “It does a bit, doesn’t it?” I asked smiling as we both picked up another apple.

Both horses were happy by the time we left, both of them moving away from the gates and further into their stalls. Carl smiled the entire time, his face scrunching up each time Nelly or Betsy took an apple from his palm. Making our way back to the house carrying the basket I slowed down.

“How are you holding up kid?” I asked, my hand patting his shoulder. “I’m okay.” He paused. “I don’t like that guy.” “What guy?” “The one in the barn.” “How’d you know that’s where we’re keeping him?” “I’ve been following dad and Shane.” “Carl.” I paused, sighing as I look at the ground. “It isn’t safe, going near the barn with out someone, going near the barn in general.” I stopped. Carl stopped walking, looking up at me. “I just don’t want him to hurt you, or my mom.” “I know buddy, but your mom and I don’t want him to hurt you.” “I know how to use a gun now.” I nodded and smiled softly. “Can you promise me that you won’t go near the barn again?” I asked. “But dad-“ “Your dad is an adult, and he is our leader.” I paused, grinning as I lean slightly down. “Dont tell Shane that.” I joked, earning a small smile from him. “Okay, I won’t go near the barn again.” He smiled. “Thank you.” I smiled, bringing him in for a hug. We made it to the front porch smiling and laughing with each one another, when Carl stopped. “Carl, what’s up?” He shook his head, sitting on the steps. I placed the basket on the porch and sat next to him, slightly nudging him. “Come on, you can talk to me.” I smiled softly. “Do you hate us?” He asked, looking down at the ground.

It had felt like my heart had cracked, looking at the boy in front of me sadly watching the ground.

“What? Why would you ask me that?” I asked softly, moving my hand to his chin, getting him to look at me. “You don’t hang around us anymore.” He shook his head, pausing. “Did I do something wrong that made you not want to be around us anymore?” He asked gently. “No, not at all Carl! Come here.” I shook my head, bringing him in for a soft side hug.

“You didn’t do anything honey.” I paused, sighing. “Your mom and I has a little disagreement, and I’ve been giving her some space.” “What was it about?” “The disagreement?” I asked, he nodded. “It wasn’t anything that you need to worry about, it will all be okay.” I smiled.

Footsteps pounded on the floor inside of the house, the front door bursting open. Turning I see a flustered Lori.

“Carl!” “Mom-“ he stuttered. “Where have you been?” She asked rushing over. “I’ve been with (Y/n).” He shrugged, standing up.

I stood up, as Carl was swept into a hug from Lori. “You had me worried sick!” She exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me where you were going or who you were with!” “Mom-“ “No Carl, let me finish.” She raised her palm. “You went behind my back and went with (Y/n), after I told you no.” “What?” I asked softly, confused with what she had said. “Mom-“ “Go to the tent Carl. I will be there to talk to you in a minute.” “But.” “Carl I won’t say it again. Go.” She shook her head.

Carl huffed and left, running to the tent.

“Lori, I swear I-“ “I don’t care about whatever it is you’re about to say. Stay away from my son.” She shook her head. “Excuse me?” I asked. “I told him no, for being with you today and I thought you’d respect me as an old friend, if not his mother, than to let him go with you against my answer.” “Carl told me that you said it was okay.” “Are you calling my son a liar?” “No Lori, im not. Im telling you what I was told. I would never have taken Carl anywhere knowing that you didn’t want me to.” “Please. You’d do It just to spite me.” “You really think that low of me?” I asked, a small scoff coming from me. The door opened, Maggie and Andrea stepping out of the door, watching us both silently. “I don’t know what you took him to do or what you told him.” “I didn’t tell him anything.” “Please, any chance to trash talk me and you’d do it.” She exclaimed. “No, I wouldn’t do that to you! I missed Carl.” I tried to reason with her. More people joined the audience. “Dont lie to me!” “Im not! I took him to feed the horses!” “After I told him no!” She yelled at me. “I didn’t know that you said no!” I matched her tone. “I don’t know what you’ve told him, or what lies you’ve said about me.” She sneered. “Lori, please, stop.” Rick came in from the side. Shane stood forward, his hand gripping my arm. “I don’t know why you don’t get this through your skull!” I paused.

“I didn’t tell him anything!” I defended myself. “I doubt that you didn’t.”

Shane began to drag me away. “Enough.” He growled as I shook him off of me. “Today was about hanging out with my nephew! But as usual Lori, everything has to be about you.” I scoffed, turning.

Numerous gasps were heard as I turned.

There was a slight ringing in my ear, as my face began to throb. My hand reached up to my face, cradling it as I tried to regain focus.

I could taste the blood that began to trickle into my mouth from my nose.

My vision began to clear up.

Looking up I see Lori looking beside me horrified. Following her gaze I see Shane being tackled to the ground, a familiar vest holding Shane against the ground. I felt someone behind me, slowly guiding me as I watched Daryl punch Shane. “What-“ “Shh, We’re bringing you inside.” I could faintly hear Andrea speak. “Dad!” Maggie yelled as I was guided inside. Maggie frantically ran from room to room, coming back with a wet cloth. “What happened?” I asked as Maggie squatted in front of me, lifting my head slightly, gently wiping my top lip.

“Your brother punched you.”

Series Masterlist

Next Part

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd #The Walking Dead #x reader

43 notes · View notes