Birds of Prey - Part 29: Private Moment
Avian Hybrid Ghost x Avian Hybrid Reader
NSFW content ahead, scroll to the dotted line if you wish to skip!
The only sound in your room is the quiet click of the clock on the wall and the puff of your and Simon’s breath. Neither of you have moved in what seems like an eternity, him sat on the edge of your bed while you stand between his spread thighs. His hands are on your waist, a grounding touch you can’t help but lean into. Your palms rest against his neck, thumb tracing the ridge of his jaw. A soft hum echoes from his lips, tilting his head toward the sensation as his eyes flutter shut.
Something about the way he looks makes him appear almost gentle, the pinch that normally is a permanent feature in his brow having disappeared. You hesitate for just a moment, before slowly lowering your face toward his, lips brushing against his tentatively. Simon presses forward, slotting his lips between yours firmly, his grip on your hips tightening. Slowly his hands begin to creep upwards, trailing under the hem of your shirt, your skin tingling at his touch. Pulling back you suck in a sharp breath, heart racing in your chest so fast you think you may collapse. His hands stop moving, eyes searching yours, “sorry I-... I can stop.”
You shake your head, voice coming out breathless and tight, “please don’t.”
Simon swallows hard, one hand trailing along the hem of your shirt, hooking a finger in it to draw it upward. Lifting your arms, you allow him to slip it over your head. A low groan slips from his throat as he takes in the sight. His hands slide over your ribs, moving to cup the soft peaks of your breast, thump tracing over your nipples making them pebble. A huff of appreciation falls from his lips, desperate eyes unwavering from your figure.
Surging forward he captures one of your nipples between his lips, tongue swirling around the hardened bud, drawing a soft moan from you. Your head tilts back, eyes falling closed as you get lost in the sensation the heat of his mouth is providing. Before you can process what’s happening he has grabbed you around the middle and is practically throwing down into the bed. The yelp you let out is muffled by his mouth colliding back with yours in a bruising kiss.
He makes rapid work of removing the rest of your clothes along with his own, only breaking the kiss momentarily to tug his own shirt off before diving back toward you. The heat of his skin against yours makes you feel dizzy, fingers tangling in his hair as though it’s the only thing anchoring yourself to the moment. He has slotted himself between your thighs, his weight pinning you against the sheets as he moves away from your lips, instead mouthing along your jaw and throat leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. One of his hands snakes its way between your spread legs, shifting his weight to his knees so he can trace along your folds. The touch is feather light, your hips twitching in response.
Your breaths come as soft gasps, heart fluttering at each brush of his rough digits over your skin. You can feel the warmth begin to pool in your core, a throbbing pulse begging for attention that he so cruelly denies. When you try to press your hips upwards into his touch, Simon withdraws completely, hand instead forcing your body still with a firm press to your waist. Smacking one of your wings against his, your face pulls into a frown, “don’t tease, you ass.”
Simon’s lips twitch at the corners, humming as he leans forward to run his nose along the column of your throat, nipping lightly at the skin, “so impatient.”
The frown remains on your face even as you tilt your head back, allowing him more access to your neck, “if you don’t intend to get the job done I am more than happy to send you on your way and take care of it myself.”
That makes him freeze, slowly he withdraws from your throat, eyes flicking back and forth between yours as his brow pinches, “you wouldn’t.”
His jaw ticks once, wings ruffling behind him, “you can’t have a break from arguing with me for one minute?”
The frown eases from your expression, reaching up to run your hands over his bare stomach with a sigh. His abs tense at your touch, breath catching in his throat as a pink tinge spreads over his cheeks. Your path downward is treacherously slow, inching their way toward his now hardening length. A soft groan escapes him when your hand finds a firm grip of his base, blood pulsing strong enough for you to feel against the palm of your hand. Your thumb flicks out, tracing along his slit, gathering the bead of precum forming. Simon’s head bows forward, eyes clenching shut as you twist your wrist in a manner that has him shuddering. And then just as suddenly as the touch started, you draw away, watching with smug satisfaction as his eyes snap open.
A teasing smile graces your features, “see how rude that is?”
Simon grumbles, “point taken.”
Wrapping your arms loosely around his neck, you draw him closer, eyes on his lips as you speak before looking up at him through a hooded gaze, “I’ll agree to hold my tongue if you promise to stop teasing me.”
His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before speaking in a low husk, “... deal.”
When your lips meet it’s softer than before, languid and sensual. Tongues explore each other, twisting and licking within each other's mouths. Simon mouths into your, the sound vibrating down your throat and you lick it up greedily. His hips begin to move against yours, seeking the friction you also so desperately wish for. His cock runs its way through your mound, gathering your slick upon it. With every rut of his hips, the head of his length rubs deliciously on your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your core. On one particularly long thrust his cock nudges at your entrance, catching for just a moment before slipping back through your glistening folds. Both of you gasp at the brief moment, separating from the kiss as your eyes meet.
Simon’s head tilts down, staring toward where you press together. He swallows hard, clearing away the lump in his throat, “can I…”
You answer by reaching down between the both of you, gripping his length you angle it toward your cunt, guiding the tip inside. Slowly he sinks forward, inch by inch until he is fully sheathed, punching a gasp from you.
“Are you-” he shudders, wings flaring out, “you okay?”
All you can manage is a stiff nod, eyes struggling to stay open as the feeling of fullness is overwhelming. After several seconds you find your breath again, placing your hands against his shoulders, tapping lightly to signal for him to begin moving. He rocks into you, tip hitting a place deep inside that has you gasping for air again. Your fingers thread into the feathers at the base of his wings, finding a perch upon his shoulder blades as you try to steady yourself.
“Fuck I should have done this months ago,” he rocks into you again, a shudder running through him. “You feel amazing.”
He continues the roll of his hips, head dipping into the join between your shoulder and neck, his hands slide under your back to hold you secure against him, heart beats hammering in sync. Your skin tingles, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your core, moans tumbling from your lips that you couldn’t stop if you tried. It’s almost indescribable, skin tingling as though you’ve been shocked with electricity. It feels right, which a small part of you finds worrying, but is drowned out by the overarching good that you feel, “shit Simon, just like that- So good.”
His arms tighten their hold, a whine falling from his mouth, a purely pathetic sound coming from a man of his stature. He freezes, flush rising on his cheeks as you lock eyes, his wide in panic while yours narrow in intrigue.
After a moment your face splits into a wide grin, mind turning over all the ways you can make use of this new found discovery, “... oh I’m going to have a lot of fun with that.”
Simon shakes his head, “I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about-”
You cut him off by hooking a leg around his middle, flipping him onto his back to straddle his waist, his cock still buried within you, “come on Simon, you were doing so well, don’t stop now.”
The shock that covered his features melts away as his eyes flutter, breath hitching as he can’t stop the twitch of his hips, a warmth burning in him at the praise. You cup the back of his neck, pulling him in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek, “it’s just you and me here, you don’t have to be Ghost. Not with me.”
Pressing another kiss to his temple you speak low, words muffled against his skin, “stop thinking so much, just enjoy it.”
His wide eyes find yours as you sit back, hands tracing over his chest as an uncertainty sweeps his expression. For a moment you think you have overstepped, crossed a threshold that was meant to stay unspoken.
Surging upward his lips find yours in a bruising clash, the kiss all teeth and tongue as he allows himself to get lost in the feel of your mouth against his. Months of built up tension coming undone as his body melts into yours. With his focus on your mouth, he barely notices the path of your hands until you are pinching lightly at his nipples. Simon groans into your parted lips, body falling lax against the sheets as you move your hips in an experimental roll.
It takes only a few moments for you to find your rhythm, grinding back and forth along his crotch, chasing your own high. His hands find their place upon your middle, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave marks. Simon looks wrecked, his skin burning a bright pink, eyes clenched shut, mouth hanging open as he moans with each of your movements. His wings spread open upon the sheets, like a fallen angel beneath you. Though your eyes want to close you fight to keep them open, determined to stay locked on the sight before you. Each time his body twitches beneath you a flutter of arousal ricochets within your gut, your own skin taking on a matching hue to the man under you.
“Si- fuck,” your movements falter as his tips rubs directly over your g-spot, “Simon can you sit up for me.”
The man looks up at you through hazy vision, taking several moments to process your request. Nodding groggily he pushes himself upwards, wrapping his arms around your torso to hold himself upright. Your arms loop over his shoulders before you begin the roll of your hips again. As soon as you do, Simon is burying his face between your breasts, his soft gasps hitting your sweaty skin sending cold shivers through you.
He’s babbling, lost in the sensations your body is providing. Threading your fingers into his hair you gently tug him from your chest, a whimper escaping him as he is forced to look at you. His pupils are wide and unfocused, cheeks wet with tears. Leaning forward you press your forehead against his, breathing the same air as the both of you allow your eyes to fall closed.
Simon’s hips rut in time with your own, the man becoming desperate to reach his own release.
“Good- so good Si, fuck-“, a choked moan rips from your throat as your orgasm hits you hard as fast, white hot pleasure tearing through your body. Body trembling, cunt clenching around him as you gush onto his lap you almost collapse into him as you struggle to maintain your movements
The man practically sobs, his own movements faltering as he teeters on the edge, “please- please, I need..”
Your voice is rough, almost unrecognisable as you crack your eyes open to watch his expressions, “go ahead Simon.”
A broken moan falls from his lips as he spills his warm release deep in your cunt, burying his face firmly into your shoulder. His wings shudder behind him, his whole body buzzing. Simon collapses backwards onto the sheets drawing you along with him, holding you firm as the aftershocks of his orgasm continue to thrum, his cock continuing to twitch as your body milks him dry. Both of you are slick with sweat, an uncomfortable wetness pooling between your thighs as the mixture of your spend leaches from your now aching hole.
The world stills, you and him motionless, laying in the aftermath. You let out a soft sigh, sinking deep into his warmth, letting your eyes fall shut and the silence wash over you. It’s… nice, for the first time in as long as you remember, you feel calm. A foreign feeling a part of you hopes to grow familiar with. And just as quick as the moment arrived is it gone, because now Simon is crying. Not the light tears he shed before, this is ugly and loud, sobbing hard enough that for a moment you think he’s in physical pain.
Shock. That’s the only word to describe your current state. Mouth opening and shutting though no sound makes its way out, hands hovering awkwardly over his shaking form as your mind fights back and forth over whether you should be touching him. The decision is made for you when he rolls to the side, pulling you along with him. His warm palms plaster against your back, holding you against each other, chest to chest. You can’t see his face, he’s tucked it beneath your chin, his heavy breathing hitting sharply against your neck. Slowly your arms loop around his shoulders, a loose hold should he suddenly wish to pull away. Your fingertips trace featherlight over the ridges of his spine, waiting quietly for him to speak.
It takes a while, but eventually his distress seems to subside. The skin along your throat is damp from his tears though you don’t attempt to wipe it away, rather keeping your motions steady as you continue to offer the reassuring brushes over his back. As his breathing evens out Simon loosens his hold on you ever so slightly though he doesn’t move from his position tucked against you, if anything he shifts closer, lips pressed against the base of your throat. It’s not a kiss, just a touch of one skin against another as a way to ground himself to your presence.
When he talks it is so soft you have to strain to hear the words, his lips brushing along skin as he does, a prickling sensation running along your scalp at the feeling.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
Your fingers change their path, moving toward his wings instead, feeling along the down of his feathers, “do what Simon?”
“I can’t-” he sighs, falling silent for several moments before composing his thoughts, “I can’t be what you want. I don’t know how to be…. whatever the fuck you expect from me.”
Stilling your movements, you clear your throat once, “expect-... what are you talking about?”
The room feels eerily still when he doesn’t answer. Both of you afraid to move in case it interrupts some fragile balance that the two of you are teetering on breaking. There was no forethought going into this, no clarity on expectations, and there’s no denying that this will disrupt the equilibrium the both of you had managed to establish. The small voice that you had been shutting out up until now feels notably louder and more persistent. When he sucks in another breath, preparing to speak, you brace yourself for what’s to come.
“I love you….I think I have for a long time and I- I don’t know what to do with that.”
It takes a considerable amount of time for your mind to catch up with the words he just said, the lingering fog of your release leaving you dazed and unable to comprehend the confession, “... I don’t know what to say.”
He pulls back immediately, untangling himself from your hold as he reaches toward the discarded clothes strewn across the floor. He’s leaving. Shit he’s leaving.
You are reaching for his arm quickly, holding his wrist firm, voice leeching with desperation, “Simon I- I didn’t mean it like that. You just… surprised me.”
He stills, back turned toward you, shirt held firmly in his grip. Cautiously you reach your free hand toward the item of clothing, coaxing it from his grip and dropping it back to the floor before tugging his arm gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
Simon turns, shifting back to his previous position alongside you, tugging you close to his chest, “you don’t have to apologise.”
You sigh, relaxing into his embrace, skin tingling as he traces patterns over your spine. The two of you fall back into silence, an unspoken agreement made to put a full stop in that topic of discussion. So you turn it to something else, a question you have had brewing for some time.
“… can I ask you something?”
He grunts in affirmation.
Tilting your head upward to see his expression better, “the first day we met, you tried to intimidate me before we’d even been introduced… why?”
His face pinches, throat bobbing once, “I wasn’t trying to intimidate you.”
You let out a soft puff of air, “it sure seemed like it.”
“I was showing off my wings…”
You lift your head up fully to look at him, taking in the pink hue of his cheeks. “You were flirting.”
The realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, he’d tried to court you, and you shot him down without realising. This whole time. This whole time. You feel physically ill. “Why didn’t you say something?”
His expression is one you’d never seen him bare before, so often keeping his emotions hidden behind his mask or blank stares. He’s embarrassed. “I’d never really cared what people thought of me, not for a long time…until I saw you, and I screwed it up immediately. Then Price threw me in the deep end by making me show you around, just wanted it to be over as quick as possible.”
It seemed impossible for you stomach to drop further but you are proven wrong, the organ feeling as though it plummets toward your feet,
Simon blinks rapidly, a gleam in the corner of his eyes catching the light for a brief moment, “you called me out for being a dick, rightfully so. I was going to apologise… but then you ripped into me and I did the only thing I’m good at, fighting back.”
Despite your unease, your voice is firm with determination, “that’s not the only thing you’re good for.”
He lets out a humorless laugh, “right because I have so many other good qualities going for me.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
Simon sighs, turning his head finally toward you, “I’m just being honest.”
“Well I think that’s utter crap,” you snap.
His lips twitch despite his stubborn effort to disagree, “you know most people say nice things to comfort someone.”
Coughing lightly to shake your head, “yeah well you’re not most people. What’s going to happen is you’re going to shut up and listen while I tell you how wrong you are.”
You slap his chest, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to warn him to pipe down, “don’t test me.”
Simon concedes, carefully pushing you to lie on your back so he can lay his head against your chest. Your hand finds its way to the back of his head, scratching lightly through his hair, when you talk it’s a soft whisper just meant for the space between you.
“You are smart, and attentive. More considerate than you like to let on. A dry sense of humor that goes underappreciated. Exceptional in many ways and… kind.”
Simon refrains from responding for quite some time, until quietly, as though he expects you to deny him, “can I stay?”
And as he settles down against your chest, his ear pressed against ribs, your heart beat echoing him a soothing lullaby that coaxes him to slumber, you lay awake with a list in your mind of all the reasons he’ll soon be gone. There is no undoing what’s already been done, no way to take back the words you said. Why do you continue to play with fire only to be shocked when it burns?
The place Simon’s skin presses against your own feels uncomfortably warm, his body a heavy force keeping the air from entering your lungs, buried under a weight of your own making. With your mind turning through all possible outcomes, there is only one thing you are certain of.
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