price could be an asshole sometimes, he knew it. and you knew it too. he always made you cry during arguments, storming out of your shared place by slamming the door and only coming home the next morning with an apology and some flowers.
you always forgave him, much to his surprise.
but today was different, he had been really mean and price knew that he messed up badly this time. he hated how he could be when angry.
"i forgive you" price eyes looked up to you, a hint of hope in it.
"are ya serious ?" he asked with his rough voice, his heart beating a little faster. he released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding when you nodded yes. you opened your mouth, "one condition" you looked at the floor, "I want to spend one night with lieutnant riley." price cringed at the way you said his name, bliking at you with big incredulous eyes.
"she really said tha' ?" price hated simon's smug smirk, the man visibly flattered by his captain's woman's wish. "who am I to disappoint the missus"
price hated even more watching you and simon have sex, even though he insisted on being here.
your body was smashed against the mattress, the bed hitting the wall as the lieutnant's hips roughly pounded into you. you were enjoying it, john knew by the loud moans that were uncontrollably leaving your mouth. he saw how you tried to hide it at first, probably in order to not make your husband insecure ; however as simon fucked you dumb, you became a moaning and drooling mess.
price clenched his jaw as he watched you both make out, he couldn't help but observe intently how simon's angry cock would thrust in and out of your pink pussy, all slick with the previous orgasms you had.
"gonna cum..." you whimpered pathetically as you shut your eyes, your nails piercing the lieutnant's back. a whimper escaped you as you felt simon's hand come rub your clit to help you climax, the delicious feeling making your toes curl.
after you came, price watched you lay on your shared bed, completely cock drunk. he completely ignored the cocky expression simon had on his face.
"next time don't be a dickhead, captain" price mentally cursed as the lieutnant walked out of the room, enjoying the situation too much for his liking.
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simon was not the type to enjoy moving house. as much as he were used to moving away for long times from long deployments, simon hated it. he hated how moving required picking up what life he'd established, even if it were small. he didn't understand how people could pack their lives up and ship across the country just like that. and plus, being deployed was different. a home was somewhere he could stay in peace, away from the gunfire.
but even he, too, needed a move here and there. wasn't really a must, but he wanted to downsizeâhe needed something a little smaller than what he had. it's not like he spent all his time there anywaysâhe was usually on base, and taking care of a bigger apartment was asking too much.
so he packed up, moved a few blocks away, holed up in a little apartment building. the day he moved in, carrying just a few boxes (he didn't have much to begin with), he couldn't help but notice the person right beside his door.
cute. you were wide-eyed and cute. stared at him across the hallway before sheepishly asking him if he minded moving out of your way so you could get to your apartment. lo and behold, you opened the door beside his and slipped in.
simon didn't give it much thought, to be honest. didn't really care how cute you were. he wasn't the type to want anyone, let alone a sweet little bunny. he doubted you could defend yourself if you joined a fistfight with a gunâhe needed someone who could protect themselves while he was gone on long deployments.
but you thought differently. walked past his apartment extra times a day, hoping you'd catch him on the way out so you could get a better look at his biceps, or the scar on his cheek, dragging down to his lip. the bear was handsome as hell.
you lengthened your grocery lists, made sure the bags were a tiny bit too heavy, just in case you might see him in the parking lot and ask him for help.
you knocked on his door in the afternoon, shyly looking up at him with those big doe eyes, biting your lip and asking him, "um, sir, do you mind helping? my sink is leaking... and i just don't want to... bother anyone else."
simon had been pissed, the first time he had met you. he always heard some kind of excited prattling from through the thin walls, as you excitedly rambled to a friend. you just talked, and talked, and talkedâsimon's ears were going to fall off, subject to your loud conversations through the walls.
so maybe, if it shut you up, he'd entertain your silly little requests.
so here he was, under your sink, on his back, his shirt under his head as he'd taken it off.
(you'd increased the AC in your room, hoping he'd take his shirt off. sneaky little thing.)
you sat on the counter, uncaring about what he was saying about your sink. he kept talking and talking about the mechanics of it so you could fix it for yourself next time, but you were hooked on the slight rasp of his voice and the way his abs flexed as he tightened your pipes.
then simon was done, and you grabbed his arm as he sat up. you didn't want him to leave, not so soon."sir? can i pay you? um... don't have much money on me to give you, but i could give you something else."
and fuck him, you were so needy. felt your hand on his arm tighten every time he moved as if to leave. simon knew he was falling straight into a trap, and if he was being honest, he's not sure he minded. he sighs, the crease between his brows deepening. "'yer alright, luv. ain't gonna ask y'for anythin'."
you pouted. like a sad, kicked bunny. pouted at him with wide eyes and flattened ears, tail twitching unhappily. "please? stay a bit, let me... um. i can make you something to eat. cookies? i make really good cookies."
simon was really good at dodging negotiation tactics. really good at surviving the harshest forms of torture. but he hadn't been trained to dodge the torture suddenly straining in his pants as he took you in, pretty pink frills on your skirt, your thighs which dissapeared under the fabric. so he stayed, sat there whilst you busied about the kitchen, whipping together some cookies.
when they were done, you presented them to him, real giddy, jumping on your heels. "here, try one."
before he could reach for one, you sat yourself in his lap, right on top of him, offering the cookie to his lips. simon grunts, his hand instinctively moving to grip your hip. "watch y'rself, luv. don' wanna start somethin' you ain't gonna finish."
shame, that you were so confident, really. maybe then you wouldn't have ended up grinding on his lap like a bitch in heat. maybe then he wouldn't have bent you right over the counter, pushing your pretty skirt up to leer at the sopping wet patch of underwear over your cunt. "mh, she's real pretty, eh, luv?"
you were so confident up until you came on his fingers. simon didn't even give you a second to think, his fingers pressing deeper, squishing against your gummy walls. "c'mere, darlin', jus' wanna have some more."
you were losing your mind, hands gripping against the table, cheek mushed to the wood, your ears barely registered the thumping of the chair's legs every time he forced his fingers back into you. then it stops, and before you can whine, the sound of his fly unzipping reaches your ears.
in one smooth stroke of his cock, the rest of your confidence dissipated. the stretch burned, like he was splitting you in half, god, he was too fucking big. "s-sir, sir, it's too big..."
"hush, take it. y'asked for this, bun," he grunts, practically folding you over, his hips forcing against yours, his hand on your jaw. his thumb rubs over the corner of your mouth, swiping up the drool that slips from your mouth.
poor thing. you shouldn't have poked the bear, but you just couldn't help it, could you? craved the way his cock filled you up so good. he was going to ruin you for everyone else.
"ah, m'gonna fill you right up," he grunts out into your ear, heavy breaths puffing against your skin.
"ah, fuck... yes, please. please, sir, want you..." you're cut off by a desperate moan as he thrusts into you heavily, his bodyweight pressing against you. the chain around his neck, dog tags, press into the skin on your back, branding against your skin, leaving a little red mark, pressing his name into you.
when he comes inside you, he huffs, rubbing your clit gently as he pulls out, softening cock resting against your thigh. "good fuckin' girl."
(you may just have to poke the bear a little bit more.)
It's called an EZRide+ and you can learn where to find them here. They're about $1100 US as of June 2026, but you might need to buy additional parts to attach them to your chair, depending on the style of chair.
Remember to put links to products like this, they're usually hard to find and a lot of people need to know they exist.
"Would you fuck y/n?" Soap asked Ghost, grinning ferally.
Ghost's head snapped toward him with a speed that would have been intimidating if his throat wasn't darkening to a vibrant maroon at the hem of his balaclava. For a single, long moment, the room held its breathâGaz frozen with his coffee halfway to his lips, Price watching from the doorway with the resignation of a man who had seen too much warfare to be surprised by interpersonal chaos.
Then, the serum kicked in.
"Yes," Ghost said, and the word came out so fast and so forcefully that it actually made Soap jump.
"Absolutely. Without hesitation. In aâ" He stopped. Swallowed. The serum pushed. "âin a heartbeat. In less than a heartbeat. In a negative amount of time. I would go back in time an' do it yesterday if that was an option. S'not an optionâtime travel doesn't existâbut if it did, I'dâ"
"Christ alive," Soap breathed, almost awed.
"âI'd do it so fast," Ghost continued helplessly, the words pouring out of him like water through a breached dam. "I'd do it soây'don't even understand, Johnny. Y'don't understan' what y've just asked me. Y've opened a door that can't be closed now. M'gonna be thinkin' about that question for weeks. Months. Forever. M'gonna be on my deathbed thinkin' about that question because yes. Yes, I bloody would. Have y'seen her?"
"We've all seen her, Lt.," Gaz wheezed, practically crying with laughter now. "She's standin' right there."
"Right there," Ghost agreed, gesturing at y/n with his cuffed hands as if Soap had just made an excellent point. "Right there. Bein' pretty. Bein' the prettiest person I've everâI already said that, didn't I? I already said that twice. S'still true. S'more true now. S'beenâ" He glanced at the clock on the wall. "âfour minutes. S'been four minutes an' s'even more true than it was when I first said it. How is that possible? How is she gettin' prettier?"
alright, we all know the trend when the woman goes behind the camera while recording her man's reaction to her flashing her breasts?
Well, just imagine doing that with JOHN PRICE. He'll be out there in the garden (in the process of making one, actually, on his backyard, because you always wanted one, and he moved you in with him for a reason), with a shovel in hand, looking at what he had already digged out for your plants to grow nice and pretty when he sees something flashing from the sliding glass doors. And when he snaps his head and really looks, there's you. In just your panties, and lifting your t-shirt to show him you titties. The reason? Well, you were bored. And now you had your boyfriend all grumpy and possessive of just thinking that the neighbors could have seen you.
And when you do the same for KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK, you don't really do that for him in the first place. You daughter, who was entirely breastfed for a whole nine months, was acting cranky and sleepy, wining and sobbing, clearly tired and ready for sleep. You saw some trends of a breastfed babies reacting to titties, and decided to participated (without documenting it). Kyle licking his lips, and, scooping the immediately calmed down baby girl, murmured "Make sure to have 'em on display after I tuck the lil' one in."
You thought nothing could stant JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH anymore. You two tried a lot of stuff in bed, and, being together for years, you genuinely had no idea he would react the way he did. But when oversleeping and being in a hurry, you burst into the bathroom to hop into the shower real quick. Johnny was just brushing his hair out of his face, already in cargo pants and tight t-shirt, when you dropped your nightgown and stepped out the piece of silk, as if it was a routine at this point. "Bonnie, really?" He sighed heavily, and, quickly undressing, joined you in the shower. "Since ta girls are invitin'". They were not. But in was worth being a bit late to work that day.
SIMON "GHOST" RILEY doesn't react immediately. He just sits on the couch, beer in one hand, and staring at your titties as you flashed them out, jumping out of the corner. For a second you begin to feel a slight embarrassment creeping through your spine. But then he sets the beer bottle on the floor, gets up, and with two long steps, lifts you up and throws you over his shoulder. You're buffled, trying to straighten up, when he brings you to your bedroom. He wasn't indifferent. He was just thinking about the things he would do to those things of yours.
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it started out of nowhere. you were at a pub one evening, a little tipsy from your previous drinks ; when a man came up to you and blalantly made you understand that he wanted a little company for the night. his name was john from what he told you. he was tall, arms tattoed and most importantly very handsome, he for sure knew how to talk to a woman.
you decided to give him a chance and bring him to your place that was closer. he was really not what you expected, he talked like a caring gentleman back at the pub, but the second you entered your apartment, he immediately pushed you on the couch and ripped off your underwear. he roughly manhandled you, and you let him do it.
after multiple orgasms on the sofa, he picked you up and proceeded in your bedroom. he took you harshly in doggy style, your cheek flat against your mattress. you were a babbling mess as his balls rapidly met your ass cheeks, his hands firmy gripping your hair to make you stay in place. you could hear his gruff voice behind you, however you were too far gone to decipher what he was saying to you.
when you woke up next morning he was gone, you found a scratch of paper on your bedside table, his number.
that's how your first night ended, it was the beginning of it.
itâs been a few months now, and you noticed a change in johnâs attitude. he doesnât leave immediately after you fall asleep anymore, you always find him sleeping soundly next to you in the morning, he even made you breakfast once.
he always pays for you when you meet at the pub, even when you order takeout, he never said anything about it ; you never questioned it either.
the most shocking one was how he acted in bed, the 'fuckinâ slut' turned into 'takinâ me so well, luv'. the way he couldnât help but put his lips on your skin, lips as he fucked you. or how he gently brushed strands of hair off your sticky face when you were completely cock drunk.
but what really made you realize that everything changed was when you woke up at 3am, your phone buzzing. you grabbed it and got slightly stunned by the screen light 'Jonathan' proudly showing on it. you frowned, price was on a deployment since a few weeks now, was he okay ? you heard his gruff voice when you picked up, "i donât know why i called you, luvie" a faint sight escaped his lips, "do you miss me?" it was his way to say that he did. you chuckled softly, and price felt his heart squeeze at the other end of the line.
you stayed on the phone quite a long time, before you heard someone call him.
"i need t'go now" he inhaled, "canât wait to see ya, doll"
Few times in your life have you truly fought with your husband, simon riley.
Tonight is one of those nights.
"Simon, you fucking crossed a line! That is unacceptable!" You had told him two days ago after finding out he's put a tracker on you and has been sharing your location with his work buddies. That was your first big fight since the wedding.
Which leads you to now, fluffy comforter and favorite pillow in hand while you glare at the couch.
You didn't want it to come to this. You had hoped refusing cuddles and referring to him solely as "simon." Instead of your usual pet names would get the point across how serious this is. But ghost refused to budge.
So, you're sleeping on the couch. Because as pissed off as you are at simon and as much as you want to tear his face off, some silly part of you aches at the thought of him hurting his back sleeping on the couch.
So, you go tuck in and try to ignore how weird it feels not to have a warm body next to you.
When you wake up, you nearly trip over your husband sleeping on the floor by the couch.
"Whatâ simon! What the hellâ" all anger you'd initially feel is destroyed when you look closer at the wet lines down the scars on his face, the red tint around his eyes.
Oh. You've....You've never actually seen ghost cry.... not since the wedding.
"Please don't leave me loveâ" are the first choked words out of his mouth, not even awake for a minute and already shifting closer to you "ahm' sorry. I'm sorry, I justâ i can't lose you. Ifâ if something happens to me Iâ"
"Woah. Woah, hey, slow down si" You attempt to soothe, because pulling him up onto the bed. "I'm pissed off. You know that. But I'm not leaving you. What's going on?"
Ghost breathes for a second, looks at the window instead of you. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and raw "if I get captured. If I'mâ compromised. The team needs to be able to find you. Keep you safe. I can't always be here."
Oh....oh.
The conversation that followed was long, painstaking, but necessary. You and simon struck a tentatively compromise, both mentally exhausted from it all. You could tell he was struggling not to shut down.
"....come to bed with me? I missed your cuddles last night." You smile, only to gasp and laugh when simon bodily hauled you over his shoulder to drag you to bed.
Content warning: mdni!, suggestive themes, full term pregnancy, back labor, amniotic fluid, contractions, childbirth (explicitly described-waterbirth), precipitous birth, zuko catches the baby
a.n: A Motherâs Day special. Hi guys Atla has temporarily revived me, how have you guys been? Lol, Iâve been working on this for a while and I was nervous to post it honestly. The ending is a tad rushed I was legit fatigued at that point. AnywhoâŚ
Happy Motherâs Day to all the moms out there đ
w.c: 5k
â â
Heâs been more clingy now that you could have the baby any day now. He doesnât want to leave your side, and that means if he has to go somewhere, you have to go too.Â
You stir in your seat for the fourth time, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Your belly is heavy and low since the baby dropped. So now your positions are limitedâitâs either the left side, or the right side.Â
Zuko glances over his shoulder at you, for the tenth time, physically bothered and uptight by the fact that youâre not comfortable. He wants nothing to do with the throne he currently sits on. You give him a tired, reassuring smile and shift your hips a little. Zuko sighs quietly, nostrils flaring as he looks directly into the Chamberlain's eyes.Â
âChamberlain.â Zuko interrupts the older man, a displeased look on his face. âDo you have anything urgent to address?âÂ
âOhâwell, no, Fire Lord Zuko.â He bows quickly.
âDismissed.â Zuko affirms, being the first to stand and leave.Â
He comes straight to you, helping you up out of your own overly padded âthroneâ, one hand under your elbow and the other on your hip.Â
âUp we go.â Zuko waits for you to find your balance, supporting you, his hand shifting from your hip to your belly. âHeâs low.âÂ
âHow do you know heâs low? What if sheâs low?â You reply, out of breath, feeling the pressure bud between your legs the longer you stand. You were hoping you wouldnât have to waddle out of here in front of so many people. Zuko smiles, but it fades when he sees your face sour with discomfort.Â
âWhere does it hurt?â He asks, guiding you out of the throne room. âTake your time.âÂ
âMy back.â You wince. Actually, your entire body aches. But you do your best not to show it.Â
âA warm bath, shall we?â Zuko suggests and you nod.Â
He mutters something like, âcarefulâ, as he shifts and supports you down the stairs and into your living quarters.Â
âThe avatar arrives in less than an hour.â Zuko regretfully informs you as he draws you a full bath. âWe have a meeting.âÂ
âZukoâŚâ You moan and lower yourself at a painfully slow rate onto the wooden chair in the bath room. You exhale slowly through pursed lips, a hand cradling underneath your bump. âIâŚI donât thinkâIâm sorry, I canât.âÂ
Zuko abandons the filling tub and comes over to help slip your robe off you, a remorseful expression tightening his face. The moment your belly is exposed, his hands find it, caressing and feeling, his lips pressing into the crown of your head. He pulls back and lowers himself level to you, gently hooking his arms under yours.Â
âI know.â He mutters in a defeated way. Heâs painfully aware that itâs unreasonable to expect you to accompany him everywhere he goes. Not when youâre so close to having the baby. âCome. Itâs ready, darling.âÂ
Zuko carefully tugs you up and you allow his strength to do all the work. You follow his movement, throwing your leg over the tub to get inside. He quickly turns off the pipe. The water is so warm and you canât help the noise that bubbles up your throat when he lowers the rest of your body in. Immediately all that weight, the pressure, the aches, theyâre all relieved from the water.Â
âYeah? Itâs that good?â Zuko chuckles softly, his eyes flicking down to your swollen breasts floating at the water's surface.Â
His jaw clenches and his eyes trail further down. Just underneath them lays your belly, as big and as round as ever. He's done this to you. Zuko feels pride bloom in his chest. If youâd allow it, heâd keep you pregnant and full with his heir each year that passes.Â
Perhaps he will.Â
âA little hotter, please.â You growl the last word, spreading your legs wide enough for the pressure to release from your pelvis. Oh, that position does something to Zuko. His cheeks tinge pink and he has a hard time looking away as you spread.Â
âMhhââ He clears his throat and sits up straight, tugging his sleeves up his forearms. His hands dip into the bath, swirling in circular motions as the water heats up around you. You moan a sigh of relief. âItâs not good for you to have it any hotter than this, love.âÂ
âItâs good. This is good.â You whisper as you lean back, resting your head against the pillow on the side of the basin. Your protruding belly button breaks the water's surface, along with your dark, puckered nipples.Â
Baths are becoming more frequent. Theyâre the only thing, aside from Zukoâs hands themselves, that are able to relieve some of these aches and pains.Â
Zuko reaches for the cloth and begins at your shoulders, wiping you down with the warm water. He wipes the back of your neck, dipping the cloth back into the water when itâs gotten too cold.Â
âThink heâs coming soon, Zuko.â You mumble mindlessly, focus on that little bit of pressure that never fades. The kind that makes you want to settle into a squat and stay there. Â
âYeah? He is?â Zuko responds with a similar tone, but then his expression shifts to something less calm. His eyes check you over, narrowing as they graze over your belly that hangs heavily between your legs. âDarling,â His tone hardens, ââŚhow soon?â
âDonât know.â You mutter, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of him dragging the cloth across your chest. âFeels likeâherâhead is right there.â
Zukoâs jaw tightens. How can he leave you now that youâve said that?Â
âIâll reschedule the meeting.âÂ
âNo, no.â It takes too much energy to say that, but you think heâs just being silly at this point. âItâs the avatar, Zuko.âÂ
Zuko only laughs. The times that Aang has requested his presence or âhelpâ just for it to be a side quest or some air temple adventureâthis is likely no different.Â
âHeâll survive without me.â Zuko says, shifting behind you now, dragging the cloth down your arms. He feels the water, and reheats it slightly, keeping it at the temperature you like best.Â
âGo, Zu. Iâm going to be fine. Iâll probably be back in here when youâre finished.âÂ
âAnd who will help you with that?â Zuko asks in all seriousness, as if attendees didnât garnish this palace like jewels on a crown.Â
âAnyone.â You mumble, getting comfortable enough to doze off now.Â
âI donât want just âanyoneâ to undress you and put you in this bath, darling.â Zuko speaks under his breath, his tone sharp and controlled. His voice lowers to a hushed whisper, and his soft lips press into the shell of your ear. âThat sightâŚis only for me to see.âÂ
Your body breaks out into a shiver. You didnât consider it like that.Â
âYes, Fire Lord Zuko.â You smile dopily, letting your eyes close all the way. âI expect you will be delivering the baby then.âÂ
Thereâs a pause, and silence. Zuko tenses behind you, the cloth stopping just on the back of your elbow. Then he answers sternly. âIf I must, yes.âÂ
You keep your eyes closed, but give him a smile anyways. âUnderstood, Fire Lord.âÂ
âYou make it sound like a joke.â He exhales harshly, dipping the cloth underwater now, wiping it gently between your breasts. âIt isnât.âÂ
âMmâI know, but you act as if Iâll vanish if you leave me for an hour.â You say with as little effort you can, youâre tired.Â
You feel his warm hands make their way over your tight nipples, and you moan softly.Â
âAnd if you do?â Zuko asks through a clenched jaw.Â
âYou wonât lose me in an hour, Zuko.â You try to force as much finality into your voice, but your exhaustion settles deep in your bones. If you have to come out of this bath now, youâll surely burst into tears.Â
âLogicallyâŚbutââ Zuko doesnât finish his sentence. His hand drags further down, and your belly hardens against the cloth. He looks up at you expectantly, just to witness your face tighten with discomfort. âYouâre in pain all the time now.âÂ
âIt comes,â Your voice strains, and you breathe slowly through your mouth, feeling your body finally relax. âAnd goes.âÂ
âThat doesnât make me any lessâŚany lessââ
âAny less, what?â You peek at him, and see his expression bounce between restraint and panic.Â
âAny less worried.â Zuko says, irritated with his own inability to find the words to explain his feelings. âIt kills meâŚthat I cannot make this better.â
âMy ZukoâŚâ You begin, turning your head to look at him properly. He looks tense. Like he has the world and more resting on top of him. âI donât need you to make it better, I just need you here.â
âI am here.â He says. But being here didnât feel like enough.Â
âExactly.â You let your eyes slip shut, and as the word hangs in the air, he moves down to your thighs with the cloth. âGo meet with the avatar, Zuko.â
âI donât want to leave you.âÂ
âAnd I donât want to leave this bath.âÂ
Zuko almost chuckles, though it sounds more like a scoff. He wrings out the cloth and hangs it on the edge of the basin. âI will go to the meeting.â
âMm.â You hum lightly, already half drifting off somewhere else.
âBut Iâll be back immediately after.â He states earnestly, his mouth partially open like heâs not quite finished talking. âAnd if anything changesâŚanything, y/n. Send for me.âÂ
âIâm in a bath, Zuko.â Your lips curl in your last attempt to reassure him.Â
âI donât care.â He insists, showing you exactly how serious he is.Â
âRight. I will summon the Fire Lord from his meeting with the Avatar if my water gets too cold.â Now your smile is beaming, and you peek up at him again.Â
He is, too, smiling softly, that sweet smile. âGood. And donât stay here too long. Actually, itâs better if I stay until you're readyââ
âNo, go. I can get out of the bath on my own, Zu. Okay?âÂ
Zuko leans in and presses his forehead against your temple. After a few long moments, he reluctantly pulls away. âOkay. Iâll be right back.â
Eventually, Zuko leaves after returning many times. Each time heâd get a little farther, heâd turn back. Say his goodbyes again, give you another kiss on the head. Rub your belly and tell his unborn wa that heâll be back soon.Â
By the time he walked through the doors of the throne room, Aang and Katara were already seated and waiting for his arrival. As Zuko walks in, all of the attendees and servants stand and bow. He walks past them, shoulders square and head straight, ready to end the meeting before it even starts. As Zuko approaches the long, narrow table, Aang rises to his feet and turns to Katara. Zuko immediately recognizes the movement, the way he hunches forward to provide his body as leverage, the positioning of his armsâthe patience.Â
So when he sees Katara clutching onto Aang for support with one hand, and the other under the swell of her stomach, Zuko intervenes.Â
âAvatar Aang.â Zuko greets his long-time friend with a firm squeeze of his shoulder.Â
âFire Lord Zuko.â Aang addresses him properly as he helps Katara out of her seat. âPlease, sit.â Zuko insists, resting his hand on Aangâs wrist to stop him. Katara sits back down with a warm smile, her small bump nestled high under her ribcage. Zuko notes that she doesnât seem any further than six months.Â
âKatara. You look well.â Zuko says respectfully. Has that much time really passed since he last saw them?Â
Katara smiles, but the exhaustion is evident in the slight discoloration under her eyes. âThank you, Zuko.âÂ
âZuko.â Aangâs tone turns grave, and Zuko picks up on it right away. This isnât going to be one of his fun adventures or side quests, he can sense that much in the pit of his already uneasy stomach.Â
Zuko finally takes his seat, his eyes glancing over Kataraâs bump, and then to the doors before landing back on Aang. Heâs distracted. And itâs clear as day.Â
âThis must be very important for the both of you to make the journey here. Please, letâs begin.âÂ
But before the first document is presented, Zuko is already elsewhere mentally. His mind runs on you, how youâre probablyâfinallyâstruggling to step out of that bath on your own.
What if you slip?Â
Or how youâre probably clutching your back as you shuffle into bed with your hair wet.Â
What if you get sick?Â
All of his intrusive thoughts drive him further away from where he is. Itâs Aangâs voice, which seems to fade in and out as he outlines each concern, that forces Zuko out of his thoughts.Â
Hours pass like days, and Zuko is more tormented than ever. Every point piles on top of him, like one boulder after the nextâthe weight of the world weighing heavier on his shoulders.Â
And the cherry on top is you.Â
â
Youâre still in the bath, but the water's gone cold. And despite your promise, you refuse to call the Fire Lord to come reheat it. You know this meeting is of great importance, and your duty as Fire Lady in this moment is to ensure it goes uninterrupted.Â
But you didnât expect it to last for hours.
Another wave of fire floods your lower back and you grit your teeth and breathe through it. Your fingers clutch onto the edge of the tub as your knees settle into the floor of the basin. The pressure worsens each time your back flares up.Â
The pains huddle closer together, less space and breaks between them. You get to the point where you start rocking side to side, contorting your body as best you can into whatever position that provides a bit of relief.Â
But relief never comes.Â
You glance over at the windowâthe sun is setting and the sky is a beautiful blood orange. Interrupting a diplomatic meeting to complain about back pain wonât be your proudest moment. But now that youâre trying to get out of the tub and canât, itâs something youâre going to have to do.Â
Because this might not be just back pain.Â
âGuard!â You whimper out, voice shaky but strong. Metal footsteps hastily clink towards you and stop just outside of the door.Â
âFire Ladyââ
âGet my husband! Ohâget Zuko, now!âÂ
âYes, Fire Lady.â
â
Aang finally introduces the final pointâthe resistance of some of the fire nation colonies, and how thatâs been a significant threat lately to the balance of things. Zuko just nods and glances over at the door once again.Â
ââŚif we donât approach this correctly, it could turn into a war that neither of us wantâŚyou do understand that?â Aang follows Zukoâs gaze to the door, âZuko?âÂ
âYes. I understand and I agree. We will need to approach it strategically.â Zuko begins, growing more tense as that feeling inside him starts ringing like a siren. âI apologize. My mind is in two places at once, today.âÂ
âIf I have to be honest, Zuko. You look like you want to bolt out of your chair.â Katara jests carefully.Â
Zuko looks away from the door, right at Aang and Katara. He didnât think it was that obvious. He never wanted to come off as uninterested. He swallows quickly, huffing a sigh.Â
âMy wife is due any day.â Zuko admits, fixing his slightly curved posture. âShe was veryâŚuncomfortable when I left her.âÂ
Kataraâs expression softens, and Aang goes rigid.Â
âWe understand.â Katara says as she looks over at Aang.Â
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a young, breathless attendee stumbles in and onto the carpeted floor. He scrambles to his feet and bows as low as he can.Â
âFire Lord Zuko, IâI apologize.â The attendee heaves in a grating breath, and Zukoâs body primes to act, to do, to run. âTh-the Fire Ladyâ,â He gasps loudly and Zuko immediately stands, his chair screeching behind him, his hands gripping the corners of the table.Â
âSpeak!â Zuko commands.
âThe Fire Lady requests your presence at once!âÂ
Zuko is already moving around the table, his voice thick with worry, âWhat happened?âÂ
âThe Fire Lady said only to fetch you, Lord Zuko.âÂ
âMy apologies.â Zuko huffs as he hastily passes Aang and Katara.Â
âGo. Weâll stay here.â Aang projects his voice. Kataraâs hand instinctively hovers over her spirit water pouch, like she wants to follow and help.Â
â â
When Zuko bursts through the door to your living quarters he doesnât see you in the bed with damp hair like he imagined. His heart slams into his ribcage, and he immediately rushes into the bath room.Â
There he finds you perched on the edge of the tub, curved back heaving from heavy, uneven breaths, belly hanging tight underneath. It looks bad, worse than usual, actually. Your face is hidden in your crossed arms, and your hips wade side to side half submerged in the water.Â
Zuko shouts your name, closing the distance between you in a few strides, adrenaline high. You raise your head from your arms, revealing a face screwed with pain, and Zuko sinks to a crouch in front of you. His fingers comb away your sweaty hair from your face.Â
âYouâre back in the bath, my love.â Zuko says it like a question as his eyes search yours, slightly confused and mostly concerned. His hand leaves your face, shaking slightly as it dips into the water. His pupils blow when the horrifying realization hits him the second the water registers as coldâ
âThis is the same bath I left you in.â Zukoâs voice shakes with restraint.Â
He quickly strips himself of his robes and enters the tub behind you, water sloshing out the sides and onto the floor. Anger bubbles inside him, anger directed towards himself.Â
âYouâve been in here for hours.â He growls.Â
âZukoâŚâ You sob weakly as heat floods your pelvis in the most excruciating way, and the pressure makes your legs spread further.
âOkay, breathe. Breathe.â Zuko coos as he heats the water with his body as fast as he can without hurting you. âTalk to me darling, is it your back?âÂ
You nod your head desperately, and a deep, lengthy groan erupts from your throat. The sound of it makes Zuko grit his teeth. His hands move quickly to your back, pressing firmly against it, his thumbs massaging deep into the tissue.Â
âYou should have sent for me sooner.â He grinds out a tight jaw, careful and deliberate with his every movement. âHow long has it been like this?âÂ
You shake your head, unable to speak during. Zuko waits patiently, massaging your back as he continues to heat the water. His eyes scan you like heâs trying to figure out what is about to happen next. These didnât seem like the usual back pains youâve been getting lately.  Â
âF-Few hoursâŚhaah, my backâoh, thereâs pressure,â you cry softly the second itâs over, and Zuko embraces you from behind, pulling you gently into his chest. You allow your head to fall back onto his shoulder as you reestablish your breath. âIâI canât get outâŚâÂ
The thought of you here, trapped and cold, makes his stomach twist. His hands instinctively slide over your belly, yearning to connect, fingers pressing softly as he checks the position of the baby. Much lower.Â
âIâm here. Does the pain come and go?âÂ
Your eyes slam shut, and your breath catches in your throat. The pain is back, and the pressure is at an all time high. You begin groaning again, even louder this time. Zuko supports you in the water, his body hot against your back. But not even that helps you. Zukoâs fingers splay across your stomach as it pulls closer to youâtightening up.Â
âOh.â Zuko breathes, looking down into the warped water to see your stomach seized in a way heâs never seen before. âThese are contractions.âÂ
And it hasnât been long between this one and the last one.
How close are you exactly?Â
âWhaâaah!â Youâre cut off by the pressure morphing into something else entirely. You grab his forearm, using everything in you to hoist yourself up. âZukoâŚI need the toilet!â
Zukoâs heart leaps into his throat and he tries to swallow it down. Heâs only able to say your name before he finds himself holding you up, bringing you both to a standing position.Â
Once the cold air hits your thighs, gravity comes into play and the pain concentrates in your pelvis now. The tightening crests, leaving you shaking as you slump back into Zuko entirely.Â
âIâve got you.â He says through a ragged breath, securing you properly in his hold. âBreathe darling, I have you.âÂ
Your body jolts against him and thereâs a popping sensation inside your pelvis. Once cold thighs flood with warmth, and then thereâs the distinct sound of water hitting water. Zuko looks down in awe, and so do you.Â
âMy waterâŚMy water broke.â You whisper shakily, that feeling intensifying by the second.Â
âYes.â Zuko breathes hard, his hand quickly slipping between your thighs. The world stops spinning when his fingertips catch something soft, yet firm. Instinct drives his hand, tugging your leg to the side as he maneuvers and looks, really looks. And what he sees makes his eyes bulge, confirming what he thought he felt.
âOhhâZuko! Zuko! It hurts!â A scream erupts from you, and you give in to this feeling of push.Â
Zuko acts quickly, lowering you back into the bath. You find yourself settling into a deep squat. Meanwhile, Zuko doesnât have time to think, to call for the palace physician or even Kataraâhe only has time to act. He kneels behind you, hands instinctively moving into position between your legs.Â
With a growl, your body bears down and you topple forward, gripping on to the edge of the basin. Zuko steadies you with one hand, keeping the other ready under the water. He watches as your body shakes and strains with effort, your finger tips white around the basin.Â
âThatâs it.â His voice is rough but raw with emotion, his babyâs head emerging a little further. Zuko feels as you stretch, his mouth agape at the sheer power youâre exhibiting. âOur babyâs coming, y/n. Youâre so strong.âÂ
The contraction fades, leaving you utterly wrecked and your breath hitching repeatedly. Mere seconds pass before the next wave crashes over you, sucking you back into the blinding pain.
âI canât do this.â You barely whimper before your body pushes again. You make a noise you didnât know you were capable of making, something primal and sacred.Â
âBut you are.â Zuko murmurs, overcome with emotion. He feels the babyâs head transcend further, and your thighs begin to shake tremendously. âDarling, youâre doing it.âÂ
âIt burns!â You yelp, trying to shift away from the blossoming fire.Â
âIâŚI know.â Zuko grimaces, his instinct screaming protect. But this isnât something he can protect you from. âPant for me, baby. Small pushes.âÂ
You shake your head as you pant loudly and quickly, tears streaming down your red cheeks.Â
With a guttural grunt you feel a sudden release, and Zuko gasps loudly behind you. âThe headâŚthe head is out, y/n.âÂ
Shock sputters from you in short gasps, and you reach into the water to feel the babyâs head. Itâs the softest thing youâve ever felt in your entire lifeâ soft fuzzy hair, stuck to their skull. You burst into tears, snotty, sobbing sounds ripping from your chest.Â
Zuko leans in to sprinkle haphazard kisses on your temple and cheek, and then he quickly settles back and readjusts how he supports the babyâs head.Â
âOne more push, darling. Please.â Zuko pants, and immediately youâre shaking your head. You want this baby out more than anything, but the thought of continuing is absolutely terrifying.Â
Itâs too much.Â
âItâs almost over. And then weâll have our baby, okay? Breathe.â Zuko quickly and carefully slides his finger around the babyâs neck, automatically checking for the cord. Relief flashes across his face when he finds nothing thereâeverything is going the way it should.
A low groan rumbles from you, and Zuko is already bracing himself, readying himself to catch. His stomach lurches when your groan ramps up to a bloodcurdling scream, and your body curves from strain.Â
âThatâsâŚthatâs perfectâŚâ Zuko mutters when he feels the head turn and drop further into his hands, and he begins guiding the shoulders free. âPush, push.â Zuko encourages you, and you do, helpless against the force of it. Â
You push with everything you have left.Â
In the next second, you feel a rush that's impossible to comprehend and the baby slips right into Zukoâs hands. You gasp hard for air and your body trembles violently from depletion.Â
âOh.â Zuko sucks in a broken, sharp breath, mesmerized by how tiny and delicate they feel in his hands.Â
Zuko moves fast, purely off instinct, one hand firmly supporting and guiding the baby forward, through your shaking thighs, bringing them up against your chest. His other arm curls tightly around your middle, carefully pulling your exhausted body back against him before you can slump too far forward.
âOh, Zuko.â The words break apart when you look down to see your babyâs scrunched, slightly blue face. Still. Not breathing. Horror blooms inside you and you panic. âZuko?âŚZuko!âÂ
âI know, come on.â Zuko whispers roughly, his hand rubbing the babyâs back vigorously. âLet us hear you, come on.âÂ
After a second that feels like an eternity, a wail pierces the air. Tiny, but strong. So strong. And loud.Â
You sob as your body sags in relief and exhaustion, and Zuko lets out a breathy laugh before his own tears burst free like a dam.Â
The baby slowly flushes to a healthy pink, and their bottom lip trembles. Zuko continues to rub her back, soaking in each moment like a sponge. And thatâs when he notices. Â
âThere it is. Sheâs okay. Sheâs perfect. Strong like her mother.â Zuko huffs, turning his attention down at you against his chest.Â
âShe?â You barely whisper, smiling weakly. âSheâs okay. Sheâs okay.â Each word comes out a little softer, a little more slurred.Â
He analyzes every line in your expression, every bead of sweat budding from your forehead. You look exhausted. You had just given everything to bring his child into the world, and it was his honor to witness it.Â
âYou justâŚyou did it, y/n.â Zuko watches as your eyes unfocus, and his chest tightens. âHey. Stay with me.âÂ
Zukoâs distant voice echoes in your head, and you concentrate to look at him. The pain is constant, an aching throb that stings hotter than venom.Â
âTiredâŚhurts.â You manage to mutter, glancing down at your baby squirming on your chest.Â
âI know, baby.â Zuko whispers, desperately comforting himself with the reminder that the best healer in the water tribe is sitting in his palace now. âYouâre okayâGuard!â Zuko shouts the last word, looking over at the door of the bath room.Â
Hurried footsteps approach and stop just outside of the door. âFire lord Zuko.âÂ
âGet the physician! Bring Katara!â Zuko gives the order and returns his attention to you.Â
âAt once, Fire Lord.âÂ
Zuko sees your eyes flutter, and jostles you to keep you awake. âStay awake, darling.â Â
You move against his chest, heavy eyes flicking down at the baby cooing against your chest. âZuko. YouâŚdid it. Like you said.âÂ
Relief pulses through Zuko when it registers, youâre speaking of what he said earlier. That heâd deliver the baby if he needed to. He smiles down at you, adjusting the hold he has around his entire world. âYes, my Fire Lady. As promised.â
A slow tightening breaks your concentration, and you find yourself seizing up against him. A soft groan rumbles from you, and your eyes squeeze shut.Â
A contraction?
âWhat is it?â Zuko asks, panicked.Â
âThe afterbirth.â
Katara appears breathless in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame and the other resting beneath the swell of her stomach. Aang lingers quietly behind her, relief relaxing his face.
âYouâre okay, you did so well,â Katara reassures gently, already moving closer. Her eyes flick briefly to the baby and soften. âSheâs beautiful. Just a little more, okay? Then youâre all done.â
The physician follows quickly behind, bowing once before moving to assist. Everything overlaps into one big blur around you.
Kataraâs calm voice. Zukoâs hand never leaving you. The tiny warmth of your daughter, squirming against your chest. The physicianâs quiet reassurance that she is healthyâher congratulations. But everything feels distant.
Distant but safe.
You focus on Zukoâs touch, and the babe that heâs now fully supporting against your bare chest as your arms fall limp either side of you.
âIt was a good thing you were here,â Aang says quietly from the doorway.
Zuko barely hears him, because his attention never leaves you. Nor the tiny babygirl tucked safely against you.
âYes,â Zuko says softly, brushing sweaty strands from your forehead.
đľ â younger girlfriend squirting with jack abbot . 18+
you tell jack whoâs been knuckles deep inside your pussy for the past hour that something feels weirder than usual, as youâre sitting in between his legs â your back pressed against his chest with your thighs parted giving him the perfect amount of access needed to pleasure you.
âwhatâs wrong, baby?â he murmurs against your temple with a gentle kiss as his calloused digits are rhythmically plunging in and out of your hole. curling his fingers sweet into that spongey spot inside of you, itâs almost cruel the way he knows exactly how to make you lose it. âit feels weird.â you testify, eyes fixated on the recurring disappearance of your boyfriendâs fingers inside of you.
âyeah? tell me what feels weird, hm.â he hums, feeling you shift and squirm against him as he holds one of your legs open by the backside of your knee. and you can barely utter the words from your mouth, âyour fingers keep pressing against my bladder, its making me feel like i have to goâ go to the bathroom.â you bite down on your bottom lip.
every time jackâs fingers plunge back inside you, it feels as if youâre peeing yourself already. as if the motion of his fingers are forcing that specific release from you. âthat so?â you feel his chest rumble against you as he lets out a gruff chuckle, âthatâs good then. thatâs the feeling you want when it starts feeling good, sweetheart.â he reassures, as your walls pulse around his fingers.
you whine, throwing you head back against his shoulder. each drag of his digits bringing you closer, and closer towards the edge as you let out soft moans.
jack letâs out an impressed whistle once he starts to feel your hips rock into hand. âfuckâ it feels good.â you moan warm against the side of his neck, âso good i might actually pee.â which earns a low, amused groan from jack.
âmhmm, you gonna make a mess on my hand?â he lifts his thumb up, before pressing mean against your swollen clit making you jolt. âwâwait!â you stammer, throwing your hands towards jackâs forearm in attempt to halt his movements as he shakes his head in disapproval. âuh-uh, canât have you telling me to stop now.â he rasps, pressing circles around your nub as it twitches under the pad of this thumb.
âcâmon and show me how messy you can get.â his breath fans warm against your cheek, before your bodyâs involuntarily letting loose. your body is shaking, and your walls are caving in around jackâs digits as youâre whimpering. âthaatâs it, babyâ give it to me.â he groans, targeting that sweet spot inside of you, before youâre making a wet mess all over yourself.
âmmgh, jackâ jack.â youâre whimpering as slight humiliation fills your chest, though the pleasure is far too euphoric as he coaxes every last drop out of you. âatta girl.â he nudges his mouth against the side of your head to whisper in your ear. âi love nasty girls.â he groans.
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Ghost has still got blood cooling on his gloves, the metallic tang thick in the air as the last body hits the floor with a wet thud. He tilts his head, listening to the quiet that follows, thumb already moving toward his comms to report in to Price.
Then he sees you.
Crouched in the corner behind a stack of crates, knees drawn up, eyes wide and shining in th low light. Civilian. Wrong place, worse timing. Which is unfortunate for you. His orders were clear: no witnesses and no loose ends.
Ghost starts toward you with that slow, rolling prowl, boots heavy on the concrete, thighs flexing under blood spattered gear.
He expects you to flinch. To run. To beg.
Except⌠you donât.
You donât even flinch when he stops right in front of you, towering, blood still dripping from his gloved fingers onto the concrete near your shoes. He raises his gun slightly, angled toward your head, ready to end it quick.
Thatâs when it happens.
Your gaze drops.
Straight down his chest, over the blood spattered vest, and locks onto the thick, heavy print of his cock on the front of his pants. Your lips part. Your breath hitches. And something in your eyes⌠shifts. Goes dark and heated, pupils blowing wide with want instead of fear.
Ghost freezes.
The gun lowers an inch. He tilts his head, staring down at you like youâre some glitch in reality. Heâs covered in other menâs blood, fresh kill still warm on his hands, and youâre looking at his dick like you want it down your throat right here in the slaughterhouse.
It throws him completely. Throws off the soldier part of him that is cold and clinical. His cock twitches hard at the realization, thickening further under your stare, and he knows you see it. You donât look away. If anything, your thighs press tighter together, cheeks flushing despite the corpses behind him.
A beat of silence stretches.
âBloody hell,â he rumbles, stepping closer until his boot nudges your leg. One massive hand reaches down, gripping your chin roughly with blood smeared gloves, forcing your head up. âDidât expect a filthy lilâ thing like you tâcream your knickers watching me work. Got a death wish, have ya? Orâve you just got a thing for monsters?â
Youâre still staring. Still heated. Ghostâs thumb drags across your lower lip, smearing a faint streak of red, considering the dilemma.
Price wonât like it if thereâs loose endsâŚ
But he might not mind if Ghost keep a little petâŚ
Simon doesnât get why you hate him so much.
simon riley x sergeant!reader who hates(?) his guts
tags/cw: nsfw 18+, explicit sexual content, afab!reader, simon kind of corners you for a sec so a smidge of dubcon but thereâs verbal consent right after!, male masturbation, light masochism, sexual tension, brat kink, degradation kink, sparring as foreplay, hate sex (kind of), dirty thoughts & dirty talk, teasing, oral, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, FEELINGS, just hear me out okay. [5k words]
based off of this request!, read on ao3
Simon doesnât get why you hate him so much.
Doesnât understand why youâre perfectly polite with Price and the others but look at him like fresh shit smeared on your bootâs sole.
Not that he cares; itâs only mildly irritating to have to listen to you talk shit whenever heâs busy tracking a target down his scope.
Better not miss, Lt.
Would be a really big mess to clean if you fuck this up, Lt.
Donât tell me youâre getting rusty, Lt?
A right anklebiter, you are. It gets worse when youâre both on baseâ when the verbal pettiness turns physical.
Youâre both on the running track, doing your morning runs at the same time.
âOn your right,â Simon grunts, just loud enough for you to hear. He pivots just a bit to your right so he can pass.
But then you also slide a bit to your right, speeding up on the way so that youâre still in front and blocking his way. When he tries going to the other way, you zig zag with him. Left, right, left, left, more left, right.
In the end, you stop when he stops. You turn towards him, eyeing him like a moldy meal you forgot to throw out.
âOh. Hi, Lt.,â you say. âDidnât see you there.â
âIÂ told you to move, Sergeant,â he mutters.
âSorry, Lt., what was that?â You cup your ears. âCouldnât hear you over my music.â
Youâre not even wearing any earbuds.
He turns on his heels and leaves with his fists clenched tight.
Itâs been like this since you first joined. He remembers it as clear as day-- a younger, somehow more stubborn-looking you.Â
Plucked fresh from whatever unit you were in before them, you had greeted themâ Price, Garrick, Johnnyâ with respect: a salute, a handshake, and a smile to boot.
But then you hear his name, see his mask, and itâs like hell freezes over on your face.
Lieutenant Riley, nice to meet youâ like it was the exact opposite, like it caused you physical pain to even say his name.
Johnny makes fun of him for it. Dae ye know 'em? Face looked like ye curbstomped a bairn or something.
You drop the filter entirely once you settle into the team months later. Tongue gets looser, no pulled punches, thinly veiled contempt slipping into pure snark.
He needs to grab something from a cabinet youâre in front of? Your hand shoots out, waggling your fingers. Five quid and Iâll move, Lt.
Helping him bandage up on an op? He grunts when your fingers dig just a tad too deep into his skin and wrap the wound just a tad too tight. Maybe if you didnât get hit in the first place, Lt.
Itâs infuriating.
But you donât stop because there are never any consequences.Â
No matter how many looks Price shoots him when the old man overhears the blatant disrespect.
No matter how many times other soldiers stare at you like youâre out of your goddamn mind (you are) for saying the shit you do.
Why?
Because the reason Simon never writes you up for insubordination is the same reason he's fisting his leaking cock in bed like some horny fucking teenager.
It's the same reason he lets you snark in his ear over comms, quietly grinding his rock-hard erection into cold dirt, and grunts to hide the pleasure that shoot down his spine when your nails dig into bloody skin.
It's the only thing he can think about when he's like thisâ your nails tracing the muscle of his back and gripping his cock until his spunk gets all over you.
Simon doesn't remember when it started. Doesnât remember when the want became a need.
Maybe it was the time you sassed him in front of the others, or maybe it was when you looked him straight in the eye and told him 'you look like a cosplayer, Lt.' Or maybe it was since the beginning, on your very first day.
The one thing he is sure about is how much he wants to fuck you.
Simon wants to fuck you until you're all babbles and wailsâ bend you over in his bed until you can't think straight and all you can muster is how you want more of his stupid, stupid cock.
He wants you to want him as much as he wants you. But he doesn't want to fuck the fight out of you though, no.
Yeah, a part of him still wonders why you hate him so much, but he doesn't mind you sticking to whatever fucked-up preconceived notions you have of him.
Your fire is what makes it fun, and Simon loves to burn.
He cums like that, mind flush with the thought of you fucking yourself on his cock while telling him how much you can't fucking stand him.
When the haze of pleasure finally recedes, he's stuck with one goal in his mind,
âgetting you in his bed.
Your lieutenant's acting strange.
Ever since he walked away from you on the track, Ghost has been... accommodating. Moreso than before.
It's suspicious as fuck.
You're not an idiot. You know your behavior should've gotten you sacked ages ago. Even though Ghost might let it slide for whatever reason, it's still highly disrespectful to your CO. (But you have your reason, as petty as it is. He deserves it.)
So it's strange when he starts acting almost-nice to you.
Exhibit A.
Standing up for you.
The 141 is respected amongst operators and soldiers alike; this is fact. But there's always bound to be a green recruit who thinks, I can do it, I'm special, why not me?
These are the ones you encounter most as the most recent and youngest addition to the 141. It's something you had to grow new skin for, but that doesn't mean it isn't fucking annoying to deal with.
"I bet I could take them in a fight. They don't even look that tough," the recruit prattles. "Do you think the captain will let me into 141 if I beat them?"
The group of soldiers heâs posturing to snicker and laugh. They donât seem to care that youâre standing ten feet away, or that you can very visibly hear their conversation.
You're about to tell them to drop and give you fifty when a big hulking man steps towards the group.
"Think you got what it takes, corporal?" Your lieutenant drawls, staring down at the recruits who look like they're all going to piss their fatigues.
"L-lieutenant! No--yes, I mean, I--"
Ghost jerks his head towards the training mats.
"Let's see how good you are then."
The recruit gets dropped within ten seconds.
Your lieutenant mutters something to him before barking at the rest of the group. Get your asses on the field. You lot are runnin' laps until you know what it means to respect your betters.
Does he even know how hypocritical heâs being?
Later on during dinner, the recruit who insulted you walks up to 141's table, still ruffled from the nasty takedown and sweaty from running around base. He barely manages to squeak out an apology to you, shooting the smallest glance at your lieutenant before running away with his tail tucked.
(How do you grapple with the way your heart turns?)
Ghost doesn't react, doesn't even look up. Only sips his tea like nothing ever happened.
Exhibit B.
Since when did Ghost start talking back to you on comms?
"If you let me die tonight, I'm going to haunt you and your bloodline forever, Lt."
An undercover mission. Infiltrating some invite-only bourgeoisie gala that's an alleged meeting place for many, many VIPs. Coincidentally, 141's newest target happens to be invited and you are the one who's thrown into the lions' pit.
"My bloodline? Not happening."
He's somewhere out there, watching. On the roof of a nearby building probably.
Thereâs a sense of comfort in that. You may not like his guts, but youâve never doubted him on overwatch.
"Why? Got no game, Lt.?"
"Got plenty," he says.
The soft rumble of his voice tickles your ear. It's unusual-- weird-- to hear him banter with you over comms like this. He usually only ever does it with Soap.
"Well, make it happen then," you mumble.
A waiter passes by with a tray of champagne. You smile politely, shaking your head ânoâ.
Itâs not the highest risk mission, but the amount of armed guards youâre seeing is a bit annoying. That, and your target is still nowhere to be found.
If you have to send another flirty smile to another grimy man while waiting, you're telling Ghost to aim the crosshair at you instead. And then you're going to haunt him.
"You volunteerin'?"
Your brain short-circuits.
What?
Your mouth bobs open, then shut, and then open again. Hoping to whatever deity out there that your lieutenant's scope isn't actively trained on you right now.
Shit hits the fan faster than you can gather your thoughts.
Screams ring out through the ballroom as windows shatter and gunfire fills the air. Chaos quickly spreads through the masses as people run for cover. Ghost's voice flickers in over the noise.
"Sergeant, take cover, now! Go!"
You don't need to be told twice.
There'll be time to think about what he said later, when you aren't actively in danger of being hole-punched.
And then, Exhibit C.
This is how it culminates.
Outside, on the fields with your fellow sergeants and Ghost. The four of you toss sticks to decide sparring partners; it's sheer dumb misfortune that you end up pairing with Ghost.
You've sparred with him before. He's relentless. There's always a bruise or two on your body when he's done with you. Never once have you won against him; you don't expect this time to be any different.
âLetâs see if youâve improved, Sergeant,â Ghost taunts.
âI swear I wonât accidentally kick your balls, Lt.,â you reply.
The two of you grapple at each other, swiping and pushing, body on body. Ghost is wearing a tight compression shirt today. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't somewhat distracting with the way it hugged the planes of his musclesâ no! Keep focusing!
It's never easy to wrestle a man as big as him. But you have to try.
Your hands can barely wrap around his biceps, but you use what you have to your advantage. Nails nearly break skin as you dig deep. He grunts, grip tightening on your arms.
A man's strength can sometimes be his undoing.
You let your weight shift, using his hold on you as an anchor. Tilting back, you let your legs swing forward, grappling around his waist. The momentum has Ghost stumbling back, and you make your final move.
Ghost lets out a surprised grunt as you let go of his arms and force your way through his grip. You push through, pressing your forearms against his throat until his whole body tilts and falls back onto the mat.
Oh, you're gasping out breaths. Holy shit.
You did it.
Ghost is, like you, breathing hard through his nose, eyes lidded. His hands no longer wrap around your arms. Instead, they're settled on your hips, holding you firmly in place.
It occurs to you then the position you're in.
Legs spread over his waist, sitting right on his belly. You're bent forward, hands splayed across his chest and next to his head. Practically laying on top of him.
He's so warm.
An involuntary jolt rolls through your body as you jerk backwards, an attempt to get some distance from his face.
Big mistake.
Holy fuck, this is not happening right now.
You feel it beneath your ass. Unmistakably big, undeniably hard.
A shiver makes it's way down your spine. Your legs clench tight, squishing his abdomen and grinding deeper against him. With the way Ghost's fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, you know he feels it too.
There's a fog closing in on your mind. The sight of your lieutenant under you shouldn't turn you on like thisâ and yet, the growing dampness between your legs tells you otherwise.
Panicked, you rip yourself off of him and get on your feet. A look over at Soap and Gaz, but they're still in a grapple of their own. It's only a temporary relief that runs over you when you realize they hadn't seen what happened.
"Sergeant," your lieutenant calls out. He's propped up on his arm; you look anywhere but him.
"Sorry, Lt. Feeling a little sick," you say, licking your lips. "Going to freshen up a bit."
You don't wait for him to dismiss you before you're jogging back to your quarters.
Standing in front of your little bathroom sink, you splash cold water onto your burning face. It barely helps.
How did you end up here?
Was it when he started being nice to you, even though you were never anything but rude? Was it when he defended you against egotistic recruits?
Or has it been doomed since the start, when he first looked at you through his stupidly long lashes, like he was trying flip you inside out with his stare?
You weren't lying when you told him you felt sick.
It's a creeping feeling in your gut that's been burning low for a while now. Don't want to call it denial, but what else could it be?
(Betrayal, maybe. You shouldn't feel anything else. Shouldnât be feeling anything but spite for your lieutenant. It isn't fair to your friend whoâ)
Knock knock.
The sound breaks you away from thought. A part of you dreads opening it, because you know who stands behind the heavy door. The other part of you is who turns the knob.
Ghost stands there, towering over you.
"Alright, Sergeant?"
His composure is unfair. It's like before never happened. You take a deep breath before replying.
"Yes, sir," you say. It comes out all crackly and rough. "Nothing to worry about."
The silence that falls between you is unsettling.
âIf thatâs all.â You start to close the door, but his hand catches it.
âNeed to talk to you âbout something,â he says.
You feel your heart drop somewhere into hell. âSir, thereâs nothingââ
He pushes the door back, pressing into your room. âDâyou have a problem with me, Sergeant?â
Eyebrows scrunched, you back up into the wall behind you. âWhat?â
âI repeat, do you have a problem with me?â
Ghost tilts your chin up. His hand feel like a brand on your skin. Your gaze moves back and forth from his eyes to where his lips shift under the mask, all of a sudden taken back to the picture of him lying beneath your legs. He follows your stare, searching.
âYes or no, Sergeant?â
His voice is all guttural and deep, like heâs holding himself back from something.
ââŚN-no, Iââ
âGood,â he hums. âWonât have a problem with this then.â
He moves faster than you can process. Hand slipping his balaclava up, just enough to expose thin scarred lips and a crooked nose. You blink, and suddenly theyâre pressing against yours.
Any semblance of self-control melts away after that.
He kisses you like a man deprived of oxygen. Feels more like he's eating you up rather than kissing you. Like he's trying to drink up the air you breathe and more.
But after all he's been doing these past few weeks, the contact feels like a deep reprieve in your bonesâ a relief you don't want to admit to needing.
You chase him when he pulls back.
âDo you hate me?â He asks, thumb tracing your swollen lips.
"I just let you kiss me," you say, breathless and incredulous. "And you're asking me if I hate you?"
He smirks-- it's stupidly attractive seeing a real expression on him.
"Can't be sure when it comes to you, Sergeant."
You furrow your brows, annoyed. "What's that supposed to meanâ mmph!"
Ghost cuts you off with another kiss, hands moving down to your hips. You yelp when he pulls your legs up to wrap around his waist, hauling you up by your ass.
"Arms around me, love," he grunts between pecks.
Once your arms wrap around his shoulders, he pushes off the wall and carries you over to the bed. With surprising care, he drops you on the mattress and settles on top of you.
"Tell me to stop," Ghost growls against your neck. "And I will."
You should say no. No to fraternization, no to betraying your morals.
Stand strong in the face of evil temptation!
"More," you plead instead, because the devil lives inside you. "Want more, Lt."
He groans into your skin. It excites you infinitely more. Leaning back, he pulls his shirt off, revealing firm muscles and a soft belly.
Fuck, heâs so stupidly hot. Your own top and pants comes off a moment later, left forgotten on the floor.
The two of you are a mess of tangled limbs in your little bed made for one.
Ghost kisses down your body, latching onto your soft skin and sucking bruises down your chest. He says things that make you burn a fever pitchâ fuckinâ gorgeous, sergeant, knew you needed me, isn't tha' right?
Itâs unbearable how turned on you are.
Whines bleed through clenched teeth as you paw at his body. He bites, eliciting a sharp flinch from you.
Always pissinâ me off with thaâ smart mouth of yours, he mutters. Makin' me go wank off like a fuckin' teen.
Your mind is blurâ everything is happening too fast, too hot, to process what he's saying to you.
Ghost moves down your body, giving your chest a rough fondle before settling in between your shaky legs.
When he drags your underwear down, your pussy is glistening with how utterly wet you are.
"All f' me?" He asks, pupils blown at the sight of his prize. "Fuckin' drippin'."
You squirm, cheeks searing hot. "Shut upâ"
He doesn't let you finish, burying his face between your thighs in one smooth motion.
If Ghost kisses like a man starved, then he eats pussy like it's the only thing keeping him alive.
He pulls you close in his arms and drinks you up like the slick dripping from your pussy is his own personal ambrosia. Moans and groans like it's some divine providence to have his mouth on your cunt.
Your hands claw at his neck and shoulders, but it only spurs him on with more fervor. You feel it simmering into a boil in your belly; the telling signs of your orgasm building.
"HahâFuck, Lt., I'm gonnaâ," you moan, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation.
But then he stills.
Just stops completely as his mouth leaves your pussy cold and shaking. You lift your head to look down at him, eyes in a frenzy from a ruined climax.
"W-why'd you stopâ,"
"Never answered my question, love." He blows cold air on your clit, teasing.
"Huh?"
"Tell me why you hate me," Ghost says, staring at you through soft lashes. "Tell me why you act like such a fuckin' brat, and I'll let you come."
Your breath hitches. âYouâre such a fucking assholeââ
You try to kick your leg at him, but he's strong and there's nothing you can do with them pinned down. He nips at your clit, making you yelp out in shock.
"Answer the question, Sergeant."
Ghost shifts his arm, bringing his hand over while still holding your leg down. It's sinful to watch it happen-- his tongue flicking out, licking two of his fingers until they're shimmering with saliva, petting your pussy from the clit down to your pulsing hole.
"Mmhhâ"
The stretch of his fingers in your pussy makes you tremble with anticipation. But he doesn't move them the way you want. Only teases you slowly and gently.
"Please, Lt.â"
"Not fuckin' you 'til you tell me, pet."
And isn't that simply the most aggravating thing to hear?
You let out a frustrated whimper. Mind running back and forth over what you could possibly say so that he'll make you come. A shock of pleasure flickers through you when he suddenly crooks his fingers inside you.
Keeping your gaze, he flicks his tongue out and drags it slowly, tracing a line from where his fingers fuck into you, all the way up to your clit.
"Promise I'll fuck you right if you tell me."
The words bubble up your throat before you can stop them.
"...myfriendaskedyououtbutyourejectedthemsoI'mobligatedtohateyouâ please, let me come, Lt.," you half-beg, half-sob.
Itâs embarrassing. Borderline humiliating to say it aloud.
The real reason for why you treat him like trashâ how you only really hate him by proxy.
Truthfully, there's never been any real ill intent. Only a sorry moral obligation to be as spiteful as possible for an old teammate who had confided in you after being coldly shot down by the masked lieutenant of 141â the very one that's currently knuckles deep in your throbbing cunt and covered in your juices.
âWasnât so hard, was it, love?â Ghost purrs, fingers still slowly pumping in and out of you.
He's still smirking, that fucking asshole. You wriggle your hips, but he keeps you still with an arm and itâs just not enough.
âFuck you,â you cry out in frustration.
âI will," he hums. "All thaâ sass for what, hm? Someone I donât even remember?â
He presses his nose into the plush of your thigh and takes a deep inhale.
"Jerkâ hngh!"
Broken moans escape you as his lips find your clit once more. This time, he eats you up without mercy, thick fingers curving wickedly into that one spot inside you. A familiar spark beginning its ascent from where it first fell.
You want to tell him that he's mean, a straight jerk for not remembering someone confessing to them. That this was your friend he was dismissing like a nobody.
(Oh, but what would your friend say if they find out you're in bed with the man who rejected them?
It was so long ago though, your mind whispers. Surely, they've moved on by now, right?)
His tongue laps with just the right pressure on your bud, full broad strokes that make you see stars. His fingers work your pussy with focused precision, sinking into the spot that keeps making you cry out in pleasure.
It's all too much for you to take.
When he finally wraps his lips around your sensitive clit and sucksâ you come with blinding lights in your vision, hips grinding up into his face uncontrollably.
"Tha's it, just like that, Sergeant," Ghost coos against your clit, sending another jolt through your legs.
He slips his fingers out of you and pulls himself up back towards your neck, nipping and nestling at your throat. His still-clothed cock grinds gently against your pulsating core.
With the crash comes some of your rationality.
"They liked you, you asshole," you accuse softly, boneless.
"Like me?" Ghost says bluntly against your skin. "They don't even know me."
You roll your eyes. "What, like I know you?"
He pulls back, both arms braced at the sides of your head. Something indecipherable in his gaze.
"Don't you?"
Don't you?
Your breath catches in your chest.
And what would it mean to know someone like Ghost?
His name? His face?
Is it to know the same ten jokes he tells on the field? Or how he always makes sure to give his soldiers a once-over before heading out, and is always the last to exfil?
Or maybe it's to know the sound of his voice in your ears, to be able to pick him out from a crowd of blurry faces. To be able to recognize the scarred curve of his lips, the rough callouses on his palms against your skin.
You sink into the deep end when you realize how close the proximity between you and the man-you-tried-to-hate has become.
"You with me, pet?"
Ghost pulls you out of your thoughts with a nibble on your throat.
"Worryin' too much," he nuzzles into your neck, suckling a sensitive spot that makes you whine. "Couldn't care less 'bout your friend."
You frown, opening your mouth to berate him again, but he beats you with a deep kiss.
âDon't care f'anyone else," Ghost utters between kisses. "Copy?"
The thought makes your head go fuzzy. You nod.
"Good, 'cause 'm gonna fuck you now."
Like a switch, Ghost goes back to teasing you. He kisses you hard, still as desperate and hungry as it was before. Your hands slip down his muscly frame, tugging at the hem of his pants.
"âoff," you manage to say between breaths.
Ghost obliges, breaking free from you to tug off his pants. You salivate at the sight; you'd felt it before, on the training groundsâ knew it would be big.
His cock is fat and heavy on your cunt when he settles back in between your legs. Even against the size of his bulk, he's fucking huge.
"Scared?" He teases.
You break eye contact with his cock to look up at him. The stupid smirk is back on his lips, irritating you in all the right ways. His eyes stare down you, as heavy as his cock feels.
"I've had bigger," you lie.
He tilts his head. "S'that right?"
Grabbing your hand, he pulls it down towards his cock. His own hands guide yours as he drags them up and down his length.
Holy shit, you can barely wrap your hands around him.
He makes you press his cock against your pussy. It squelches with how wet you are, as his cock slides against your lips. Your breath hitches when his fat tip catches on your slick entrance.
"So fuckin' wet f'me," Ghost groans. "Want my cock inside you tha' bad, pet?"
You whine, needy pussy fluttering every time his nudges his cock at your hole. "Please, pleaseâ."
"Please what? Use your words." He presses his tip in, just a bit.
"Need you to fuck me, Lt.â," you plead, grinding your hips down in attempt to fuck yourself on his cock.
"Say my name, pet. I know you know it."
Fucking. Asshole!
Frustrated, you dig your nails deep into his arms, earning a pained grunt from him.
"Oh, go fuck yourself, Simon."
You're not ready for the way Ghost absolutely buries his cock deep inside you with a pathetic whimper.
Your own breath is knocked out of you with how fucking big he feels, legs shaking at the sudden intrusion.
"Fuckâ so fuckin' tight," Simon grunts out.
His hips shift back just a bit before plunging back into your ruined pussy, drawing a choked moan from you. The stretch is euphoricâ combined with the way his tip rubs up against that spot in your pussy, it's all you can do to keep yourself from falling into the haze.
âD'you knowâ,â he says, sinking again and again into your cunt. ââhow much I thought âbout this?â
"'Bout fuckin' this pretty cuntâ" Thrust.
"Bending you over in my bedâ" Thrust.
"Makin' you come over and overâ" Thrust.
It's no use; you lose yourself in the pleasure of his cock, eyes rolling back as he repeatedly pounds you further into the bed. His hands squeeze tight around the curves of your ass, pulling you flush against him and stuffing you full with each thrust.
Simon doesn't stop teasing you.
"What's wrong, love? Got nothin' to say?" He taunts you, lifting both your legs over his shoulders and somehow fucking into you impossibly deeper.
"Cock's got your tongue?"
"F-fu-unghâ"
Tears trail down your cheeks as the simmer in your belly grows overwhelming.
He slips a hand between your legs and starts rubbing circles on your clit, coaxing a string of debauched sounds out of you.
"Sound so fuckin' good like this," Simon groans, eyes hazy and looking just as wrecked as you. "Should jus' keep y'here and fuck you forever."
"âmngh, f-fuck... you," you finally managed to choke out, voice raw and scratchy.
It doesn't distract from the way your cunt clenches tighter than before, not with the way you watch his eyes flicker dark.
He bottoms out with a particularly hard thrust at your words, leaving you a sobbing mess as he fucks you relentlessly.
You grasp away at him as your pleasure begins to overwhelm youâ now threatening to boil over. Simon, Simon, Simon is all you can muster, but it's enough.
His cock ruts into you with no reprieve, fingers still flittering over your aching clit.
"Come f'me, pet."
And for once in your life, you obey your lieutenant.
Euphoria burns through your nerves as a second orgasm crashes over you from down under. Your cunt pulses in unrelenting waves, the pleasure borderlining too much. Squeezing his cock even deeper as Simon chases his own climax.
When he finally unravels, it's chaotic and frantic. Simon bends you over, covering you with his body and pulling you close as if to keep you under him. His eyes are squeezed shut, panting as sweat drips into the fabric of his mask.
Your pussy flutters one more timeâ milking his cock dry at the idea of knowing what Simon Riley looks like when he comes balls deep in your pussy.
âI still hate you,â you whisper, once the electricity fizzles out of the air, leaving only faint static remnants.
But thereâs no real venom in your voice.
Simon huffs on top of you. You feel it in the way his chest jumps against yours.
âRight.â He relaxes his body onto you, weight squishing the air out of your lungs with a small âoofâ. âKeep tellinâ yourself that, love.â
You can't describe the silence that falls over the both of you as comfortable, but... it's not bad, either. There's still a lingering sense of guilt in the back of your mindâ but it's no longer screaming at you like before.
Simon's head shifts, the mask pulling on your sheets as he turns and mutters into your temple.
"Still plannin' on hauntin' me now that it's gonna be our bloodline?"
You slap his side as best as you can with your pinned arm.
Just thinking about Simon coming home late often from work, and the only time you two get to talk on those days is when heâs got his cock buried in you.
Youâre barely coherent, blinking blearily at him as he wakes you up, smiling softly when he brushes kisses down your neck.
He likes you like this, a little lethargic, a little malleable. So much so, that when he pulls your panties to the side, you donât even jump. Too half asleep to really care about anything more than the pleasure heâs lit in your core when he slips two fingers in.
You only really come to when he pulls you on his lap and nudges your walls with his fat tip. You place your hands on his chest with a gasp, thighs tensing at his hips.
âHi, baby.â He smirks, hands at the curve of your hips to help guide you down his length.
âHi.â You whisper back, lashes fluttering.
âHow was your day?â He asks, casually rocking his hips up.
âGood. Took Riley to the park.â You pause to exhale when he lifts your hips up, clenching around nothing. âLeft you dinner in the fridge.â
âMmh.â
âMade your favorite.â Itâs broken by a string of moans.
âYeah?â He breathes, catching your walls on his tip again and slamming you back down quickly. âThis is my favorite.â
You chuckle. âHow was yours?â
âBloody terrible. Missed you.â
You smile, grinding your hips on your own. âMissed you too.â
john whoâs trying his hardest to ignore the way he feels towards you, his little assistant. always sat at your computer typing away.
itâs hard to ignore you when heâs towering over you. able to sneak a peek down your not fully buttoned up shirt and watch the way your eyes gloss as you stare up at him.
he canât ignore the way you waltz into his office like you own the place, pretending like the door between your allocated stations didnât exist. asking him personal questions and blurring the lines between employee and employer, then swaying your hips in that black pencil skirt as you head back to your desk.
no he canât acknowledge when you bring him sweet treats from your trips to the near bakery and how you were the only one who knew how to make his coffee right. you were such a sweet girl.
every now and then he would force himself to remember his position of power and how you were just being a good secretary. nothing more nothing less.
but all that rational goes away one day when you barge into his office and sit on his mahogany desk; while bragging about how a woman at coffee shop complimented your hair. all of this added with you absentmindedly sucking creme, from your lunch off your finger. fuck he couldnât do this anymore.
before you know it his lips are pressed against yours, as he hikes up your skirt and positions himself between your thighs. gripping your fat and grinding his bulge between your legs. the kiss was hot, sloppy and fuelled by sexual tension that had been brewing beneath the surface for months.
swiping his index and middle finger across the fresh pastry, then sliding them into your mouth. focusing on the feel of your tongue caressing his rough fingers and the look of your lips wrapped around them. fuck you really needed this from him didnât you.
âmmm keep sucking, thatâs a good girl... iâll give you something bigger to suck on later.â
this shouldnât be happening but fuck it, it canât be helped.
You squealed loudly as you came again. Ghost's teeth were buried in your shoulder, leaving dark bruises.
"That's it, come for me again." Ghost growls into your skin, thrusts not slowing or ceasing.
Your whole body's covered in bruises. Teeth marks cover your neck, collarbone, and your shoulders.
There are handprints on your inner thighs, deep nail marks in the wake on his touch.
Your throat his hoarse and sore from all the screaming you've been doing.
Ghost doesn't let up. Not when you're sobbing and not when you're squealing. He doesn't care that his cruel hands have left your nipples inflamed and raw.
Ghost doesn't care that your clit hurts. All he cares about is making you cum again.
"C'mon, pretty girl, you can do it." Ghost groans, hand resting on your bare, delicate throat. "Cum for me. Just a couple more."
"I can't!" You sob.
"You can, and you fuckin' will." Ghost hisses, his free hand coming down hard on your ass. When you cry out, Ghost spanks your clit.
He revels in how tight you get around him and the sweet, sweet screech you let out.
"Yeah, that's it. Fuckin' scream for me." Ghost groans, hips stuttering. His harsh hands grow rougher the closer he gets.
You're forced to cum another three times, practically within seconds of each other.
You sob in relief when Ghost fills your pussy with his cum.
You know you'll feel this for days. You don't mind.
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John âJust a tasteâ Price has you sitting on his face, burying himself between your thighs for the hundredth time tonight. Hands tied up to the bedframe after you tried to push his forehead away and escape this incubus den which he calls a bed.
Technically, that's on you.
But John grins at the touch of your trembling muscles, and sucks the delicate skin on your inner thigh, âSorry, dovie. A few more, I promise.â
You whimper pitifully as a response. Then a high-pitched scream, bucking your hips up when he takes the clit between his lips. Again.
Brain turning into mush, the last thoughts remain: Not a few more licks, but a few more hours of this torment, you assume.
Summary: Jack ends up crashing your girls night out and takes you to a one way trip.
Warnings: smut, clit play, dub/con reader is drunk but begs jack for it so how can he say no? protected sex, mention of Jack using viagra before, consensual groping, reader is usually quite a modest, sweet nurse but she turns into a demon when sheâs horny đŹ
This is a pt. 2 to Martini! I got this inspiration from a comment @iridescentlilt left on the âMartiniâ post! Iâm already working on a pt. 3âŚthe Monday shift!
As the other nightcrawlers went home one by one, Jack stayed seated in the booth. Someone had to keep an eye on you as you got more tipsy, and that tipsy turned to being drunk and stumbling, though not refusing a drink. Especially the ones that âthat guy over thereâ paid for.
You didnât miss it. The first round of drinks he paid for, you had looked over, glossy and tinted lips twitching as you made out his handsome face. No fucking way Abbot was still here, sexy veteran attending doctor who was now paying for you and your friends drinks. You hope he knew how much these martinis cost. Maybe he had the dough to spend.
You had sent him a sweet smile, maybe popping your hip out a little more and letting your dress ride up slightly. Gosh, vodka made you horny. Almost as much as wine.
Then the night went on, and even as your friends and yourself continued drinking, he didnât much like the idea of you going to another bar or a club. You were already drunk, stumbling over your heels and leaning like your world was spinning. It probably was.
So, he made his way over just as you were exiting.
He liked how your girlfriends gave him dirty looks, wrapping their arms around you and sobering up when a strange, old man had approached with car keys. He respected it. They looked out for you. âUhh, who are you?â âCan you fuck off, creepââ Alla that shit until you gasped and hugged Abbot like he was your bestest friend.
âNooono, guys, donât be nasty, heâs lovely! He- hic He workss with meee!â You defend sweetly, wrapping your arm through his, feeling you squeeze his bicep shamelessly. âHess the one whoâs been buying our drinksss~! Mhm!â You smiled, glassy and hooded eyes and all, batting your lashes up at him. âHes a soldier, too,â
âGirl, we donât give a fuck, the night is still youngg!â One of your friends shouted, exasperated, âWeâre not letting some creep take you in his car-â
âHeâs ddrove me home loads!â You reassure with another aggressive hiccup, discreetly obviously winking at them and nodding your head towards Jack. He saw every moment.
Another girl just snorted and shook her head, pulling you close and hugging you, before they all called their goodbyes and called a taxi. âHave a good night, sweetie,â âTurn your location on!â âText us when youâre homeââ âOr on that dick!â
You plugged your seatbelt in and melted into Jackâs leather, heated passenger seat. A big sigh left through your nose, pulling out your phone from your bag, only to find a pack of condoms falling out. Holy fuck, you didnât put that in there! I mean, your friends meant well, but thatâs just embarrassing!
Your face burns red hot, and you scramble to shove them back in. âTheyâre- I-..That was my friends, not me,â
âNot my business, sweetheart,â He chuckles as he turns the engine on.
âNo, I- I- I donât have a boyfriend or anything, so I donât-â
âItâs fine, kid. You donât gotta explain yourself. At least youâre using protection.â He reassured, spotting the condom and internally smirking. Wouldnât fit him anyway. Are the guys these days seriously only regular size? He thought to himself smugly. âYou donât got a boyfriend?â
You shook you head sheepishly, glancing up at him. Fuck, his eyes, his shoulders, his bicep straining against his shirt and tensing from the steering wheel. â..no.â
âHow the fuck did that happen?â He snorts playfully.
â..I donâ knowâŚMaybe iâm picky, but my standards are literally just a kind, funny guy whoâs not skinny.â You slurred quietly. âI need ssome muscle, warmth..â
He huffed in amusement, glancing at your lap, at the sliver of your soft thigh through the slit of your dress. Gosh, just an inch higher and he could see the sliver of panties â if you were even wearing any. Then back at the road. He would try, if you werenât drunk. Flirting was harmless, he didnât expect anything in return.
When Jack looked back at you, you were staring at him. His face, his chest, his lap.
Your eyes widen again, glancing away. Awkward.
â..Are you not married?â You blurt out stiffly, curious but coming out a bit harsh and accusing.
Jack straightened up a bit. âI was.â
You stay silent. â..But you still wear your ring,â
âI didnât get divorced.â His thumb briefly twists the silver wedding band on his ring finger.
âOh..Thatâs so sad,â You whisper, becoming a bit teary. Overall, more emotional from all of the alcohol. âIâm so sorry, I shouldnât have askedââ
âItâs fine, donât beat yourself up.â He redirects carefully, patting your thigh in a reassuring manner. âI donât think your standards are high, if it counts.â He redirects.
âThank you! ThâTheres lots of nice guys with nice shoulders and th- hic that make me laugh..Then again, I think people would look down on me if my boyfriend was like 20 years older than meââ
What? Were you talking about him? Gosh, you were never this ballsy at workâ
A brief, strangled noise left his throat when he felt your hand on his crotch. Were you meant to grab his thigh? His hand? You canât be that drunk.
âUhh, sweetheart, you donâtââ He exhales when he feels your hand tighten carefully. âOh fuck.â
âI donât wanna go home yet..â You murmured softly, staring up at him with big doe eyes. You were so pretty like that.
âBaby, youâre drunk, I canâtââ
ââŚOh shit, do you notââ You pull you hand away slowly, nervously.
âNo, no, baby, I do, I just- I canât- I canât bring you home drunk, you canât- You canât properly consent, can you? You canât even walk in a straight line,â
âI never can, anyway.â You defend, teary again. âPlease, Jack, I donât wanna be alone tonight, i might as should have stayed with my girlfriendsââ
Before Jack could even open his front door, you had him up against it. One hand squeezing his bicep and the other travelling down his stomach. *He could feel all the blood leaving his brain to go down south already. This is the first time in years heâs gotten hard without any sildenafil. This was all your doing. Fuck.
You whined softly against his lips, your hips pressed tightly against his own. You really tried not to grind on him, you knew he had neighboursâŚBut you didnât really care.
He unlocked his front door and guided you inside, âWherres your bedroom?â You slurred softly, grabbing onto his shirt.
âJus- Ah- Just there,â He pointed, a bit flushed. You were never so forward at work. He felt a bit vulnerable. Like a lamb in a lion enclosure. Surely it should be the other way around?
You pushed him onto his bed and climbed onto his lap, taking his lips again before pulling back, letting him take his prosthetic off and getting comfortable. You stood before him and taking off your heels, watching him intensely as he tugged his shirt off.
Jack watched you with hungry, yet admiring eyes as you unzipped your dress. You werenât wearing panties. He wanted to chuckle and scold you, but he was too damn shocked. Maybe you actually were a freak in the sheets but a lady on the street.
You climbed back on him and took his lips, fingers carding through his salt and pepper curls and tugging lightly, slipping your tongue past his lips for the umpteenth time that evening, feeling the bumps on his teeth and along his canines, tasting his bitter beer, and just knowing he could taste the syrup and vodka on your breath.
Jackâs hands, scarred and calloused, smoothed their way carefully up your ribs, feeling your heavy breathing before cupping your breasts, appreciating the beauty and the fitting size in his palms. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Gorgeous.
âHoney, take a breath,â He whispered against your cheek as you kissed across his stubbly jaw. âAre you surââ
âOh! Mmmy bag!â You shot up briefly and grabbed your handbag from the floor by your heels, grabbing a condom.
He repeated your name, louder, a bit firmer. His hands cupped your cheeks. âYou need to tell me now if you want this. Youâre not gonna regret this in the morning? This isnât just a one night stand for me, baby.â
You stare right back at him, still breathing heavily. And you nodded. âI would fuck you in the on call room if I had the balls,â
Jackâs eyebrows shot up past his hairline almost comically, even more so when he heard you giggle in amusement. â..PleaseâŚJackie, I wwanted you for agesss~ I need it~ I- I wouldnât have done this if I were soberrr,â
âOkay, okay, honey,â He coos softly, pecking your lips and taking the condom from your hand and looking down at it apologetically. God knows he didnât have any condoms, he hadnât used any since him and his late wife were young.
You continued kissing him as he unbuckled his belt and ushered his trousers off. The sight of his throbbing cock made you sober up a bit.
âOh..â
âWhat? Talk to me, baby?â
âItâs big..â You whispered, eyes wide.
âYeah..We donât have to do anything you donât want to-â
âI donât think this will fit,â You butt in quietly, saddened as you held out the condom.
âOh, iâm sorry baby..I donât think it will.â
âI really wanted to..â You whine in disappointment, staring down at the regular condom like itâs ruined your life.
â..Iâm clean, if you,â he sighs hesitantly, âIf you wanna go raw-â
âAre you sure?! I am too!â You asked excitedly, waiting for his get-go.
âYeah.â Fuck yes in every universe.
You hover over his lap and kiss him once more before feeling him line his cock head up to your glistening hole. His thumb gently toys with your clit, wanting you wet and ready so he didnât hurt you. There was no turning back now, not after those sweet little noises you made as he circled your clit, rubbing carefully over the slick nub and over the hood as he began pushing inside you.
Jack heard the quiet, strained noises escaping your lips as he sat you down gently, moaning shamelessly into his neck. âFucck, Jack..â He let out a soft groan as he felt your warm, gooey walls enveloping his fat cock, his hands running up and down your bare sides to try and soothe you â He knows heâs overwhelming.
âI know, sweetheart, I know..â He hums deeply, kissing the corner of your lips, then your cheekbone, hearing you let out a shaky mewl as you sat as deep as you could go, his tip sat against your delicate cervix.
Your legs trembled around his, squeezing his arm, his shoulders, his chest, anywhere you could reach, anywhere you could hold onto for support because fuck this felt quite paramount. âOh my fucking gosh,â You whined desperately, throat thick as tears sprang to your eyes. You didnât even know why. The alcohol certainly lowered your inhibitions, had it heightened your emotions? Your sensations?â âAugh! Ffuck, Jackie!â
Jack smirked into your shoulder at your, the only noise in his head was your moans in his ear and the loud squelches from between your soft thighs. âThat good?â
All he got in response was a shaky moan, and a tight squeeze from your velvety walls. You started moving. Granted, your hips were stuttering and a bit unorganised, but it felt fucking fantastic where Jack was sat.
He met your hips with thorough thrusts, his thumb still teasing your pearly nub beyond overstimulation, but it would be dreadful if he stopped. It all felt too good. He felt you jolt when he felt a specific spongy spot deep inside your front wall, âOoh, that it, honey?â He chuckled deeply, huffing against your chest.
Jackâs hands smoothed up and down your waist, from cupping your breasts in his hands to guiding your hips as they slowed down, âYâtired, sweetie?â He hummed, groaning as you squeezed him tight, nodding and lying on top of him. He gladly took the lead.
Greedy hands groped at your hips and ass cheeks, whilst yours squeezed and clawed at as his arms and shoulders like you were dangling on the edge of a cliff. âFfuuuck, Jack, I~ Thatâs sooo..â
He groaned at your continuous moans in his ear, doubling his efforts and putting more pressure on your little bundle until he felt your seize up, white hot pleasure blossoming from the pit of your belly to your fingertips and toes, crying out desperately into his shoulder and tugging on his salt nâ pepper curls.
He held you down tight against his hips, suddenly coming deep against your cervix, painting your gummy pink walls white. He hadnât felt like that since his wife, and he hadnât came that fast since he was a teenager.
A quiet, dirty squelch sounded from between your thighs as you lay on top of him, getting comfortable and cuddling. Jack placed a sweet kiss on your temple over your hair, rubbing his hands up and down the curve of your spine.
âGood girl, easy now..â He hushed, stroking down your hair, which was lovely and styled at the start of the night, before he had got to you. He grabbed his duvet and pulled it over the both of you. He knew youâd have to get up in a minute; make you pee, make you drink some water, maybe some toast. âYou okay, sweetie?â
You nodded, drunker than you were before. Mission, accomplished.
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