nuggiebugge - Tumblr blog

nuggiebugge · 2 years ago

Text

Auberon the Room Monster

It's been a while since I posted one of my room monsters. This is one I feel is quite special. He's very much a charming fellow who lives in an old library.

Female Reader x Male Monster

-----------------------------------------------

Applying for jobs was a crapshoot. You couldn’t remember exactly all the places you had applied to, but you had compared it to throwing shit at the wall and seeing what stuck. Optimism was hard to maintain; but you were beginning to believe that hopelessness was really the theme of your generation.

Then you received a phone call.

A distant relative, you weren’t sure how you were related, had come into the clutch, and found you a job. Not just any job though, your dream job! It required moving, but the job offered you accommodations to stay. You were all too happy to pack up and move.

Working as a librarian had been your dream ever since you were little and had watched the rented VHS tape of ‘The Pagemaster’ over and over. You would have been happy with any brick and mortar establishment, but this place took the cake.

“Holy shit,” you murmured as you drove up. You stepped out of your car, looking up with breathless awe at the old building.

The facade was covered in vines and moss making the great pillars look like they were rising up out of the earth. You stepped onto the broken sidewalk leading up to the building and wondered if you were at the right place.

“You must be Robin’s niece!”

The voice startled you, causing your bones to jump before the rest of you caught up. Looking up at the stairs, you saw a man in dark blue coveralls. His platinum hair was slicked back, and his skin was pale. In a way, he looked like a certain horror movie character.

“Welcome!” He said cheerily. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He came down the stairs towards you as you approached.

“Hi, sorry I’m a bit late. I know it’s getting dark-” you started.

He chuckled and extended his hand to you. “Nonsense. I work during the evenings, so your time could not be more perfect. I’m Dallas, the groundskeeper.” He shook your hand heartily then slipped you a heavy set of keys.

“The cottage has been cleaned and is all ready for you. And tomorrow Lady Gustry will start training you.” Dallas spoke quite rapidly. He waved you along to follow him. “I’ll give you a tour.”

“Lady is her name?” You asked.

“No, no, she prefers it over miss or missus.” Dallas took you inside, and right away your breath was stolen again.

The entry was marble flooring, spreading out into a wide circle where there was a continuous mural painted on the wall depicting famous scenes from literature that flowed together. The marble flooring circled a mosaic of a Japanese woman with long, flowing black hair and a gorgeous red floral kimono.

“Murasaki Shikibu,” Dallas said, noticing you staring. “She’s considered to have written the first novel.”

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

“Ah yes,” Dallas nodded and looked all the way around the mural. “The artist is quite pleased with his work here.”

The mosaic and mural both looked old, well cared for, but old. “You know him?”

Dallas turned his head suddenly. “Oh the cottage is this way.”

You furrowed your brow but followed after him. The library was small compared to some you had applied to, but it was extremely grand. Thanks to a high ceiling the shelves were tall and there was a loft above.

Dallas took you through a door that led into a supply closet.

“Please tell me this isn’t the cottage,” you chuckled. But you partially worried it might be true.

“Oh no! Of course not!” Dallas reached on the shelf, grasping a hidden latch and the shelves opened to a secret door leading into the attached house.

“That’s so cool!” You exclaimed. You followed Dallas inside, going down a set of stairs into the kitchen.

“There’s an entrance to the back as well, you can drive around back to unload your things.” Dallas turned on a light for the cottage, revealing a tiny kitchen and living area. The appliances were old, sink and fridge were both a pea green color. The wallpaper was harvest yellow flowers, and the table had been made to match.

“A bit out of date, but everything is clean and works,” Dallas said proudly.

“It's adorable!” You wandered into the living area where there were two doors on opposite walls.

“Bedroom and bathroom,” Dallas said, pointing to each door. “I know it’s small, but what more does one need these days?”

“I didn’t realize it was attached to the library,” you murmured. “It’s kind of cool.”

“Short trip to work!” Dallas laughed. “Before this was a public library, a woman owned and operated it herself. Simply opened her collection to the public. People claimed she was a witch because of it. Some said a demon.”

You furrowed your brow at him. “Don’t tell me-” you shook your head.

Dallas smirked. “I won’t.” He stepped out of the cottage and back into the supply closet. “Lady Gustry said she would be here at seven in the morning to show you the ropes. Feel free to wander around and get yourself acquainted with everything.”

“I planned on it. It’s so exciting to be in a library when no one else is. It’s like you can feel the magic of the place!” You wondered if that sounded too weird, but Dallas kept smiling.

“That it is, that it is,” he chuckled. He walked back out into the library and sighed. “Well, I have a few things left to do here, but I’m sure you want to get comfortable and unpack a few things. If you need any help, just whistle!”

You went out to your car and drove around to the back where the cottage and a small covered driveway was. The back was a large garden filled with flowers, bushes, trees, and a few statues covered in vines and moss. You took a few boxes into the house, unpacking stuff for the bathroom so you could grab a quick shower.

The bathroom was much like the kitchen. Toilet, sink, and bath were a sort of dusty pink color, and the wallpaper was green flowers. You set up the bathroom and sat your backpack with your stuff for the first few days by the door.

After getting the shower, you felt much more energized and decided to unload the rest of your car. To your surprise though, everything was already stacked neatly in the living area.

“Huh,” you murmured. You looked out back, wondering if Dallas was there. “I didn’t even hear anything. I’ll have to thank him tomorrow.” Since you didn’t have to move anything, you changed into your pajamas.

Going through the supply closet you stepped into the library. You breathed out slowly and looked around in awe. The lights were dim, and there was a stillness to the air that could be comforting or frightening. You walked back to the entry, gazing over the mural before walking to the front desk. Dark wood lined with intricate tilework of blue, purple, green, and white forming what looked like a hazy mountain top. There was a reading section lined with old, dark tables, a small sitting area with faded sofas, and then a children’s nook that was brightly colored and made to look like a little forest.

“It’s so cute.” You said as you walked around the children’s sitting area. There were rugs, but there was a mosaic underneath that looked like the yellow brick road.

You heard something that sounded like a door closing. It was eerie, and you tried to tell yourself it was probably Dallas going about his work. You walked slowly towards where you heard the noise. There was a narrow row of shelves you went down, and at the end of it was a tall, elegant, antique bookcase.

The doors were rounded and the old glass was foggy and warped. On either side were carved details depicting a unicorn at the bottom standing upright, their grand horn spiraled up and up and at the tip a crown was balanced. The gems of the crown were also carved along the doors of the bookcase. At the front there was a handle with a large keyhole.

You took hold of the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. The glass rattled and something inside the bookcase shifted. It almost looked like a shadow inside, but you figured it was a trick of the old warped glass.

“I wonder if I have a key for you,” you murmured. After looking over the bookcase one last time, you turned to leave.

That’s when you heard a door squeak open and the sound of a book falling.

You turned back around, seeing the bookcase was cracked open and there was an old book laying on the ground.

Your eyes darted back and forth, but you were certain you were the only person in the library now. You were cautious approaching the bookcase again, but you couldn’t just leave that book lying there splayed open like that.

The book was old and faded. The worn cover was threadbear and barely showed the title which was embossed and showed very little of the gold that once painted the letters. You opened the book to read the title page.

“The Tale of Genji,” you murmured. You then felt a breath on the top of your head and you looked up. Sitting atop the bookcase was a creature you couldn’t describe. Large wings spread out somehow taking the light that remained. You became engulfed in a bubble of darkness, and all you could see of the creature was shining yellow eyes.

“Hello.”

You screamed and sprinted out of the darkness bubble, but because you couldn’t see while leaving the darkness, you immediately ran into one of the shelves.

You woke with a pain in your shoulder and the side of your head. You grunted and gazed up at the high ceiling. It was dark, but you could make out the shape of light beyond the fog. As you continued to wake, you heard a voice whispering over you.

“And among the leaves were white flowers with petals half-unfolded like the lips of people smiling at their own thoughts. Oh-” The voice stopped. “It’s alright.”

Your eyes couldn’t focus, and through the darkness you weren’t sure if anyone was around you. You realized you were laying in the children’s section, as you could make out the trees and paintings on the wall. Your head was resting on a bean bag chair and you had a blanket draped over you.

“Don’t move too suddenly,” the gentle voice whispered. “It’s alright.”

“Dallas?” You murmured.

There was silence for a moment. “N-no.”

You placed your hand over your head, feeling the knot forming on your right temple. It was cold, as if ice had been pressed against it. “Ow-” you whimpered.

“Oh! I have…where is it…I have medicine!” A bottle of ibuprofen suddenly hovered above your face. “There you go!”

You stared at the bottle hanging above you. You swatted at it and it swayed back and forth as if attached to string. You kept watching it, like a confused baby or amused cat.

The bottle dropped down a bit more and there was something dark coiled around it. You tried to touch it, but it released and the bottle fell into your hand. A bottle of water appeared in the same fashion.

“I’m sorry, what?” You finally huffed. You wondered how hard you really hit your head against that shelf.

“Oh, please forgive me,” the voice spoke up again. “I didn’t want to frighten you again and I just wanted to make sure you weren’t really injured.”

You grunted as you sat up, having trouble since your right shoulder hurt. Something pushed against your back, helping you rise up to sitting.

“Whose talking to me?” You asked.

The voice shuddered and struggled with what to say next. “I’m Auberon.” Their tone was shy and uncertain, but the voice itself was deep with a touch of rasp to the throat.

You remembered the creature you saw on top of the bookcase. The large wings that seemed to swallow the light around it. You looked out of the kid section, seeing light just beyond you. You grunted, cupping your hand around your temple again.

“The medicine is safe. I promise,” Auberon said.

You blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted to the dark. Across from you you saw a dark shape huddled by the low bookshelf. Yellow eyes shined from that darkness, and vine-like objects weaved in and out of view.

“What…” Your voice caught in your throat. “What are you?”

“Nothing to be afraid of,” he said.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to see more into the shadows. You could make out the shape of the large leathery wings. Their shape was jagged and large, with dark knobbly fingers making up the spines. The head that peaked out seemed perfectly round, but long glossy strands seemed to hover around it and draped down towards the body covered by the wings. The yellow eyes that stared at you were small and perfectly almond shaped, and they appeared to have many dots inside.

“Nothing?” You asked.

Auberon sighed. “I promise.”

You opened the water and took a drink before opening the ibuprofen bottle to take two pills. You sat there in silence for a moment, holding your shoulder in your hand.

“You’re the new librarian aren’t you?” Auberon asked. “Dallas said you’d be here today. I thought I was so careful. I really am sorry for frightening you.”

“What are you talking about?” You squinted, hoping to see more in the shadows.

“The bookcase is my home,” he said. “I live here. Like you do. Guess you could say we’re roommates,” he chuckled shyly. He then grew quiet. “Neighbors really.”

Was it a head injury or was it real? You couldn’t decide which or if this was some new game show. “You live in the bookcase?”

Auberon gulped and fumbled with what to say. “Yes. It’s like uh…like when kids say there’s a monster under the bed. Well, that can be true. Lots of doors are under beds. But some are in other places like wardrobes, desks, and my bookcase.”

“Monster?” You murmured.

Auberon hummed in agreement and you could make out his head nodding. “Only by definition. I consider myself an artist.”

You thought of the mural and mosaic in the entryway, but things weren’t quite clicking together yet. Traveling all day, barely eating, and a possible concussion weren’t exactly making thinking easy for you.

“Can you help me back to my place?” You asked.

A soft breath from Auberon sounded like surprise, maybe even hope. A second later you felt longer fingers around your elbow and the middle of your back. He helped you stand and as you walked the light disappeared with his presence.

His hands and arms looked to be wrapped in glossy cords of various thickness, they even dripped down off his fingertips which helped guide you to the storage closet. He opened the secret door and helped you down the two stairs into the kitchen.

You fumbled with the fridge, which was a struggle due to your hurt shoulder and the lack of light. Auberon came up behind you and you pulled out a wrapped sandwich from the refrigerator. You sat down on the floor in front of the fridge and bit into your meal for the night.

Auberon handed you back the water bottle.

“Thank you,” you said through a mouthful of ham and cheese. You drank down the water, and even after a few bites, you felt better.

“I always wanted to live in the library as a kid,” you said. You looked towards Auberon, a knot forming in your tummy. Despite the kindness he showed, the unknown-ness about him still was frightening. But if reading storybooks all your life has taught you anything, it's to be kind to everyone and everything. The prince from Beauty and the Beast learned that lesson the hard way! So kindness was in order. If, at the very least, to return the gesture. “You get to live in a cool bookcase and the library.” You drank more water.

“Technically, you get to live here now too,” Auberon's deep voice was nice to listen to. He spoke quietly and gently, so the deepness was like a far off rumble.

“True.” You glanced towards him and the dark corner of the kitchen he took up. “How long have you lived here?”

You saw a finger rise up in the shadows and wag at you. “It isn’t polite to ask one’s age.”

You smirked. “So that means you’ve been here a long time.”

“Possibly.” Auberon tilted his head to the side. “Long enough to know this place better than I know myself. Until now.”

You pointed at yourself. “You mean me.”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Lady Gustry has been a good friend for a long while. It’ll be nice to get to know someone new.”

“I guess that makes you my coworker too?” You asked.

Auberon rose slightly. In your small kitchen he hunched over, so you suspected he was taller than the ceiling. “In a sense. The library is my home after all, I try to keep it up as best I can.” He inched towards the door. “You’re probably tired though. I should leave you be.”

You stood up from the floor and smiled towards him. “Maybe I’m dreaming already. But thank you, Auberon.”

“It was nice to meet you. Dreaming or not.” he said. He left the kitchen and the lights faded back to the bright.

The next morning, you woke up to find a strange woman in your kitchen. She had bright copper hair tied back into a wild bun and was wearing an emerald green dress.

“Good morning dear!” She chimed. “Lady Gustry, your predecessor.” She placed a fast food bag in your right hand and a coffee cup in the other. “Are you ready to be a librarian?”

You still weren’t awake, so you just sort of stared at her blankly.

Lady Gustry was a vivacious older woman, curvy, tall, and exuberant. Not what you expected. She helped to wake you up, giving you some history on the place while you ate and had your coffee.

“I know you met Dallas last night. Charming little scamp isn’t he?” She giggled.

“Uh yeah, I met him,” you replied.

“He works the night shift here, so if you need anything you can call him.” Lady Gustry said, showing you through the back office and the old catalog system. “So don’t be surprised if you can’t reach him during the day.”

“Is he a vampire?” You asked.

Lady Gustry cackled then gave you a wink. Whatever that meant. “We upgraded all our systems a while ago, but I do love this old cabinet.”

You remembered the bookcase and the maybe dream you had. “What about the old bookcase that’s in the back near the kid’s section?” You asked. “I noticed it was locked, do I have the key for it?”

Lady Gustry gave you a look like she was unsure what you were really asking. “No. That old thing? That key is…probably not in this world right now.”

“But I thought I saw a book fall out of it last night,” you murmured.

She gave you a strong look again. “Did you see something last night? Like a big tall dark critter?”

“Auberon?” You asked.

Lady Gustry broke into a big smile. “I hope he didn’t scare you! He’s such a wonderfully sweet thing. He’d never hurt a fly.”

“So I wasn’t dreaming,” you murmured. You knew you weren’t, but when did such things ever happen? “So what is he?”

“Oh, his kind has lots of different names. In certain parts he’s known as a Chaucemar. Children have called them bogeymen for generations.” She gave you a bright smile. “But Auberon’s kind is not of this world. In fact, they lie somewhere between.”

You furrowed your brow. “Bogeymen are real?”

“In a sense,” she sighed. “But sometimes our closets, beds, things with spaces that feel infinitely deep, have doors. Much like the bookcase upstairs.” She walked you back towards the front desk.

“But what is he?” You continued to ask.

“A very talented artist,” she giggled.

That evening as you locked the door you heard a rustling behind you. You noticed shadows under the shelves grow darker for a moment then return to normal. You followed this, going all the way to the back of the library where the wall was lined by locked glass doors which held antique valuables and vintage tomes.

Inside one case was the picture of a woman reclining back upon a sofa with a tiger at her feet. There were items placed around the photograph as well. A hair brush. A fan. A tack of stationary. And news articles that were hard to read. The gold plaque behind the photograph caught your eye. “Lady Adele Authaire, founder of the Authaire Library.”

The closer you looked, the more you recognized her. Despite the grainy, old photograph, there were similarities you couldn’t deny. It was almost like looking into your mirror.

“She was a very kind woman.”

Shadows grew beside you and Auberon hid behind the corner of the cabinet. He was hunched down, appearing quite shy.

“You knew her?”

Auberon approached and it grew dark around you. He placed his hand upon the glass before Lady Adele’s picture. “I thought you were her ghost.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not.” You placed your hand about Auberon’s arm. “Maybe, distantly, we are related.”

Auberon’s eyes focused upon your hand touching him. His body felt strange, ropey and slick, but it wasn’t unpleasant. You smiled at him and the lights flickered brighter then darker.

“Were you the one who brought in my things last night?” You asked.

He ducked his head slightly. “I was.”

“Then I owe you a thank you. I just made an order for some food, would you like to join me?”

His eyes widened and he nodded.

Sitting at your kitchen table he was a bit too big. His legs rose up sharply on either side, and he still had to hunch his head down.

“So you did the artwork in the entryway,” you said as you sat down with the food. You’d gotten pizza, breadsticks, and dessert breadsticks, along with a soda.

“I did,” he murmured.

You opened the pizza box and offered for him to get the first slice. “The mural and the mosaic?”

He nodded, humming as he did. His long fingers plucked up a piece of a pizza and it vanished into the darkness of his form.

“They're beautiful.”

Auberon hesitated. “Th-thank you.”

“I hope you like pizza by the way. I haven’t been able to get any groceries yet. Not until Sunday.” You took a bite for yourself then opened up the breadsticks.

You hear Auberon chewing. “Pizza is fine. Dallas has it a lot.”

“That rules out vampire,” you muttered to yourself.

Auberon’s eyes widened as he looked up at you. “Hmm?”

You shook your head and giggled. “Nothing. Nothing. So, tell me about this place. I would love to hear your take on it..”

“I think Lady Gustry covered it very well,” he murmured.

“But what about you?” You asked. “Is there a reason you stay here?”

Auberon swallowed hard and he eased back from the table. “I promised her I would,” he said shakily. “I mean Lady Adele.” His eyes flicked back to you. “I promised her to make sure to watch over everything. Her collection was so important to her. You see, her family used to own a traveling circus, so she found books from every corner of the world. That’s why she wanted to open this place to the town, so they could see the world too, even in such a tiny corner of it.” His body tensed and the room grew even darker.

You reached out across the table and took hold of his hand. Auberon turned his hand to hold yours in return. His palm felt like velvet.

Auberon’s presence in the library was a welcomed one. You learned to watch for the signs of his presence as he moved around unseen. He would return books, place them back in proper order, all from the shadows and slivers in the furniture of the library.

Occasionally he would make repairs to the mural or mosaic in the entryway, which explained how it was so well maintained. Auberon was mostly quiet, but occasionally you got him to open up. He enjoyed talking about colors and poetry, and every so often he would ask for art supplies. Knowing you weren't completely alone in the library seemed to be a boon for both of you.

One afternoon as you were cleaning fingerprints off the glass case you came upon Auberon staring at Lady Adele’s picture. You approached him, placing your hand upon his arm.

“Did you love her?” You asked.

He took in a breath, holding it in his chest for a heartbeat. “That’s why it’s hard to look at you sometimes. It’s why I get nervous and frightened around you.”

“Frightened?” Nervous you knew, this you didn’t.

“You look so much like her, and being around you makes me feel so happy again.” He whimpered and bent over, wrapping his long arms around himself. “That sort of joy didn’t last long the first time I held it.”

“Auberon-” You placed your hand upon him to comfort him. The lights around you grew dim then dark. There was barely a faint glow in the distance from the other lights. A chill grew around you so you put your arms around him.

“I understand why you're scared,” you told him. “But you deserve to be happy.”

“I wish I could be,” he whispered. His eyes turned to you, pale yellow and glistening from tears.

You placed your hand upon his face, moving aside the glossy strands and wiping away the tears upon his cheeks. “You can again.”

Auberon closed his eyes, moving his head until you felt teeth upon your fingertips. His mouth opened and your fingers slipped down along his jaw. You closed your eyes expectantly, feeling him come closer and closer to you until sharp teeth dragged down your cheek. He nuzzled to your neck, breathing in your scent before wrapping his wings around the two of you.

“Hey! What are you kids doing?”

The light flickered super bright to completely off and Auberon vanished under the glass cabinets. You spun around to see Dallas grinning at the end of the aisle.

You frowned, scrunching up your whole face. “What are you doing?”

“Starting work,” he laughed.

You scoffed and knelt down where you could see Auberon’s eyes under the cabinet. “I’ve got a few more things to do around the library, but can we continue this at the cottage?”

His eyes bobbed up and down. “Of course.” He slipped away, deeper under the cabinets as Dallas approached.

“So, what were you kids doing?” he teased.

“I’m sure you’d like to know,” you said as you picked up the glass cleaner again. You turned to face Lady Adele and you sighed.

Dallas stood beside you and he patted your back. “She was a strange lady. The whole family was.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him with confusion. “Okay, are you actually a vampire? Because I’ve been saying that as a joke. But every so often you say something that makes me question.”

Dallas grinned from ear to ear and there was a split from the corner of his mouth towards his ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He said with a wink.

“What is this place?” You whispered. “What with Auberon, you. I doubt Lady Gustry is completely human either.”

“If Robin is your relative then neither are you,” Dallas chuckled. He nodded towards Lady Adele’s picture. “Her mother never said, but it’s believed that Adele’s father was a demon, hence why she attracted the otherworldly to her. Her adopted brother, who took her name when she died, still keeps up the tradition of collecting.” His eyes wandered around the library with a smirk upon his face. “Authaire keeps up the traveling carnival though.”

You leaned in closer to Dallas. “Don’t bury the lead there. What am I then?”

Dallas cuts his eyes to you. “Something special. But I’m not the right person to ask.” He patted your back again and took over cleaning the glass from you.

After finishing up a few things in the library, you returned to the cottage and sat down to take your shoes off. Under the fridge became pitch black and eerie, then Auberon rose up. The room grew dim, and the lights flickered like the flames of candles. He knelt back down, pulling out his art supplies bit by bit.

“What are those for?” You asked.

Auberon’s eyes turned back to you. “I wanted to paint you.”

Your face tingled with warmth and you bowed your head. “What for?”

His hand stroked the top of your head, smoothing it down then away from your face. “Because it’ll make me happy.”

You glanced into his eyes and smiled. “How would you like me to pose?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

You thought for a second. “What's this picture for?”

Auberon was holding a canvas in his hands as he rose back up. “This would be something personal for me, only you and I would see it.”

You stood up from your chair and waved for him to follow. “I have an idea then.” You went back into your bedroom. Everything was sparse so far, as you still had stuff to unpack. As Auberon stepped into the doorway you shed your clothes then went and laid upon your bed, posing for him.

The lights shuddered then flickered, they turned off and back on, glowing even brighter before dimming again. Auberon’s eyes were wide and you couldn’t hear him breathing.

“Is this alright?” You asked.

“I…yes…uhm-” Auberon fumbled while setting up his easel and canvas. “Sh-she did…” he cleared his throat. “Adele did this to me, too.”

You giggled, stretching out a bit. “Then you’ll have a matching set.”

Auberon started for a moment, the ropes on his body rose up and floated then dropped back down as his eyes turned to the canvas. He started working, or at least trying to. Every so often you felt his cords touch you. They would stroke down your legs at first, growing in confidence and touching your belly and breasts.

You moaned softly, stretching a bit more as those cords stroked your cheek. You glanced towards Auberon who was still, his eyes unfocused, and he was breathing deeply.

“Auberon?”

His eyes shut and he took in a breath and held it. The ropes pulled away, dragging down your body. They then coiled around your legs, moving upwards until the plumpness of your thighs squished between them.

You whimpered softly, reaching down to touch them. You then slid your hand between your thighs and touched yourself.

“Auberon,” you beckoned him.

He breathed again, snarling as he opened his mouth.

You were already aroused from his staring, from the touching. You felt your wetness against your fingertips and you gasped in pleasure. The ropes tugged your legs apart and suddenly Auberon was standing over you. You gasped and continued touching, showing him how wet and full of desire you were.

Auberon’s mouth opened and light shone from inside, his long, dark tongue slithered out. More cords rose from his body and wrapped around you. They lifted you up into the air. You gasped in surprise, but the touch of Auberon’s hands made you weak. He cupped your rear, squeezing it then smoothing up around your inner thighs.

His long tongue delicately traced your folds, your lips. He kissed, his tongue lapped over your clit and you whimpered.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered. His long, bony fingers rubbed against you and parted your lips so he could see inside. “The color is…oh how I have longed for such color.” His tongue pressed to your clit while a cord slipped inside.

You cried out and let your head roll back. “Oh my god!” You whined.

Auberon moaned and pulled back, watching the cord slip in and out of you. He chuckled darkly, pulling back the cord and licking it clean. The ropes turned you around so your head was at Auberon’s chest. He bent his head down, kissing you while another, thicker, cord rubbed against your folds.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He slipped inside you and you whimpered in pleasure. His arm stretched out over you and he rubbed your clit while the cord moved inside.

“Yes,” he breathed. “It’s been so long.” His right hand combed through your hair, dragging along your scalp. He curled his long fingers around the back of your neck, touching your cheek and chin.

He thrust inside you, going deep then curling upwards. Each time it made you dizzy, but in the best way possible. He knelt down, kissing you again, sharp teeth greeting your lips.

“Beautiful,” he whimpered. “You’re wonderful.”

You cried out in return, as his movements inside became harder and faster. The warmth inside you was growing, forming a large, heavy knot in your stomach. Auberon’s touches upon your body, and deep inside you were becoming more and more intense. Your body was live wire, sparking, hissing. The knot inside you grew and grew until it popped, flooding your body and mind with a wave of deep pleasure.

You shuddered and cried out, struggling against the cords holding you. You whimpered and went limp, letting Auberon move you even more. He turned you again, pressing your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face against your neck. You felt something against you, pressing against your cheeks. Auberon moved his hips, sliding his cock around your sensitive slit. He felt thick and warm against you.

“Oh wow,” you whispered.

Auberon kissed your neck and he pressed himself inside you. You whimpered as he stretched you, filling you with more than you thought you could take.

“I’ll be gentle, I swear,” he whispered.

You leaned your head back, kissing him as his massive cock slipped deep inside you.

It wasn’t until morning you had a sense of time or place. Morning light came through the curtains and your naked body stretched out upon the bed. You looked around, not seeing Auberon anywhere, but you could still feel the effects of his body on yours. You flopped back against the bed until a glossy cord tapped against your lips.

You smiled and dropped your hand off the bed. From underneath Auberon’s hand reached out and took hold of yours.

695 notes · View notes

nuggiebugge · 2 years ago

Text

eyes on me

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader Wordcount: 2.4k Warnings: sex pollen. dubious consent. smut in a chair. snake bites. hurt/comfort Summary: Ghost takes care of you, and you return the favor. A/N: this is for all you ghost fuckers in my inbox. ily.

It’s his eyes. Black holes. No stars. The face paint doesn’t help, brands them to embers.

He terrifies you. This hulking behemoth of a man. There’s nothing there but pulsing adrenaline, a dexterity for killing. You watch him smoothly plunge a knife through the tough shell of a terrorist’s skull. It goes in like butter. His strength is so inhuman that you think he was built in a lab. Maybe, he was.

He’s a blank slate. There’s only Simon Riley.

There’s only Ghost.

At first, the others treat you like a sorority girl. They treat you like you’re some grand dame duchess because you don’t look the part. Ghost never says anything. Not a word.

They end up biting their tongues when you behead a Russian Oligarch and take out his entire security team bullet by bullet. By the time the team reaches you, there’s a thick sheen of blood painting your face, a hitch in your breathing, and you might have a stab wound, but it’s fine.

They look at you brand new. They call you Red Fox.

“Cute,” Soap remarks. “But aggressive as shit.”

“They’re full of rabies.”

“Exactly.”

It’s Ghost who barges into that room first. He stops in his tracks, tilting his head as those skull eyes regard you silently. Your eardrum has burst from the gunshots. Your finger is quivering around a trigger. There’s the taste of pennies and rain.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

He’s staring, cataloging the room and your work. His gaze is so hard and unforgiving that you think he will squeeze you into a diamond. Brilliant. Shiny. Scintillating like a thousand stars.

He jerks his head. “C’mon, lass. Time to go.”

***

He’s disarmingly unpredictable. He’s prickly and blunt but will turn around and carry you five miles to safety without complaint.

You get bitten by a snake when you’re deep in the forest. There’s the smell of mulch and damp and soggy leaves, and the sun trickles through narrow branches. You follow him, attention pinned to the center of his back. He’s so tall that he has to duck. He bleeds into shadows.

You’re so busy thinking about who Ghost is that you don’t realize where you’re stepping until pain ripples up your leg. You glance down at the sandy-brown snake that curls back into itself. Its head is shaped like an arrow, and a cool burn immediately begins to settle in your limbs. You inhale sharply as you stumble forward. Venomous. You’re fucked. They’re so far out.

Ghost must hear you stagger because he whips around, the leaves crunching under your boots. “What is it, Fox?”

“Snake,” you choke out, and it really fucking hurts.

“Red,” he says softly as he steps in your direction. “Hey, calm down. You gotta keep a straight head, so the venom doesn’t travel too quickly.”

Ghost is all business. He calls evac. He rips into someone about not having antivenom on hand, and you want to point out that that shit is expensive, but you’re going dizzy. You’re clammy and nauseous, and Ghost easily lifts you and places you on a rock. He tugs your boot off, your holster, removing anything constricting the area. He rips your pants so he can study the bite. Two tiny pricks that bead blood tears. You can’t read his face. It’s barren as a black sand beach. You do notice how big his eyes are, even against all that inky paint. He has blonde lashes.

He grips your foot and elevates your leg, allowing it to rest on his tree trunk of a thigh. The rest of the team spreads out around them, blending into the brush with their camouflage. You can only see Ghost, who keeps glancing at you to ensure you haven’t started coughing up blood.

He touches your knee, sliding fingers along your calf, and it’s so unlike him, but it’s as if he’s trying to soothe your unsettled heartbeat.

You wiggle your toes. “Sir,” you say, and he raises his head. “You could suck the venom out.”

His stroking abruptly halts, seemingly stunned. He squints at you. “That-that doesn’t work.”

“I know.”

You think he might be smiling. “Is that some roundabout way of flirting with me?”

You nod. “Brought the snake out here and everything.”

It’s okay for a minute. It’s bearable until it suddenly isn’t.

Your vision clouds, and your body sways, but his broad hand engulfs your shoulder. It anchors you to the ground and centers your gravity. “Stay with me, yeah?”

His voice is gravel and black tea. You brought him Yorkshire Gold from the store once, and he shook his head but took it anyway.

“I don’t feel good,” you slur as you press your hand to your brow.

“Fox,” he says, a little aggressively. “You fucking keep those eyes on me.”

You do it, and it's startling because it’s so naked and strange, and the others are probably watching them have this intimate stare-off, and it feels like he’s pressing inside you, stretching your cunt until you erupt into shattered fragments of glistening snake scales.

Oh my god. You like him.

You want him. Your lieutenant.

The realization twists your heart into overdrive. You panic, blood rushing into your ears and dragging that poison all over. Ghost shoots forward, hand cupping the back of your skull as his thumb digs into the flesh beneath your ear.

He says your real name. He whispers it in a voice that is dipped in frustration. He clicks his tongue, hushing you like he’s trying to coax a spooked horse. You wonder if he’s ridden a horse. You wonder who he is or what he’s done, and how can you like a shadow of a person? A ghost?

His hand on your scalp is so warm. He’s got bedroom eyes that dip as they search yours. “Stay alert, love,” he says so quietly that none of the others can hear. “It’s an order.”

***

You shoulder your way into the room where you’d tracked Ghost’s last location. The whole mission has been a fucking mess, and while the room is covered in corpses, Ghost doesn’t look very triumphant. He’s hunched over, coughing and sputtering through the fabric of his mask.

You rapidly scan the rest of the room for additional threats. It’s a lab. There’s a medical exam chair. The air tastes like sour candy, dusty as if someone showered the floor in flour. Nothing feels right.

You maneuver over the various dead men to reach Ghost. When you touch his neck, he jolts. He jerks his head up to look at you, and his consciousness is seemingly gone. He’s sweating profusely, and his chest rises and falls at a frenzied speed. You grab his face. “What is it?”

“Neurotoxin,” he breathes before he coughs again. “Fucking guy got me before I shot him.”

You nod as you try to think about what to do. How quickly can you save him? How deadly is it?

“Remember Compound X back in Siberia?”

You twist around, mouth falling open. “The one for the breeding program.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, swaying and nearly toppling forward. You lunge for him, hands on his shoulders to support his weight. Your eyes drift down to his crotch, where he is visibly aroused.

How long does he have until it makes his heart stop?

Slowly, you guide him toward the medical exam chair. You sit him down, and he has enough strength to lift his head and look at you. Your decision must be written across your face because he tries to pull away.

“No,” he growls.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“We have time.”

“No, we don’t,” you argue. “It’s the fastest way to get that toxin out of your system.”

He huffs a laugh. Exasperated. Torn up. You know that poison is shutting down all of his control. He’s going to turn down a road you can’t pull him out from if they keep wasting precious minutes.

“Didn’t want it like this,” he mumbles as he rubs the hard surface of his mask. He sits back, loosening a breath. “There’s handcuffs in my gear.”

You frown. “For?”

Ghost wraps his arms around the back of the exam chair. His enormous body is almost comically big in comparison. “I-I don’t know what I’ll do if I have you under me. I can’t-can’t control myself. It’ll be safer.”

Something hot pulses between your legs at the idea of him breaking you open. It’s fucked up and wrong, but it warms your belly. There are parts of you that have wanted him to fuck you against a wall or slide into your cunt when they’re stuck together in their tent on missions.

Covertly. His hand on your mouth.

That isn’t what this is though. He needs your help, and you think about how he took care of you when that snake bit your leg or when everyone else doubted you.

You find the handcuffs and place them on his wrists. He shudders when you brush your knuckles across his forearm. It’s rippling muscle and tattoos. A skull.

“Fox,” he says. His voice is lower, grating, and ragged.

You walk around the chair to face him. You undo your pants and yank them off along with your underwear. He’s not in good shape. His face is damp with sweat, his pupils blown out. Fully dark.

He groans your name. It spills out like shattered teeth as he repeats it.

You grip his shoulders, the tendons immediately shifting beneath your palm. You hitch one leg over to straddle him, the fabric of his pants rasping your bare thighs.

“We don’t have to,” he mutters. “I don’t want you to have-”

“Shut the fuck up, Simon,” you bite, and he does. His eyes widen a bit, a drop of white in all that black before they go desperate again. “Let me help you.”

It unnerved you to see him vulnerable. It looks like he’s been skinned alive and you can only access his soft, fleshy parts.

Give me your bones. Your organs. Your breath.

You undo his belt and his tac pants. You slide your hand inside and grip his already fully erect cock. You swallow as your fingers barely touch around the width of him. God.

You rub your thumb over the tip. He’s leaking pre-cum and when your nail nips his skin, he shivers. Slowly you guide him forward, your knees uncomfortable digging into the chair's cushion as you hover above him. His dick nudges the sensitive folds of your cunt - a kiss.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “It’s okay. I want this.”

Ghost audibly grits his teeth as you slowly sink onto him. He’s too big, the blunt head of his cock snags against your entrance, and you have to work yourself down. You breathe through your nose, brow furrowing as you shut your eyes and attempt to take him to the hilt.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss as he bucks, demanding more, needing more the second he feels the tight, slick clutch of your sex.

“Easy,” you try, gluing your forehead to his, skin slipping against the shell of his mask. “Easy, Simon.”

He nods haltingly and tries to slow his thrusts. He’s burning up with a fever and it’s still shocking how well he’s trying to hide it, keep it below the surface until it boils over. When you hit a good rhythm, you sigh, allowing yourself to relax and suck him deeper.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Feel good.”

You draw back to stare at him. Your hips roll in an even, almost mechanical tempo. He meets your gaze, his shoulders tensing and his biceps bulging against the strain of his handcuffed wrists. You watch each other, a breath between you as you circle your pelvis and ride him slow. The fabric of the balaclava rises with each word, and you imagine his mouth. Soft lips.

You touch the hard piece of his mask, thumb flexing against the blunt teeth. You want to lean down and kiss them, tongue each until they scratch and make you bleed. He is the skull, the mask, the alias that’s coated his truth until there is no Simon anymore. No family. No university stories or holidays or fucking around in a pub.

You flex your cunt, lower muscles bearing down as you grip him. He groans before he abruptly swallows it. The sex is starting to feel too good. There’s pleasure coiling behind your pussy, drifting like the tide as it holds to the shore.

“Is it getting better?” you ask and his gaze slips from your face to where he’s burying himself in your tight cunt.

He nods, but it’s not enough.

“Words, Lieutenant,” you demand. “Stay with me.”

His head jolts, his cock twitching deep.

Stay with me. Stay with me. Eyes on me.

“Yeah,” he husks, voice thin and full of too much. “Yeah, Fox. I’m - It’s better.”

You briefly wonder if it will be painfully awkward after this. Maybe, he’ll transfer you. Maybe, he’ll never speak to you again. But you can’t care. His life is on the line. You’re sucking out the poison.

You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. He’s so big and you’re so full, packed to the brim as his cock drags against your walls.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise. It’s the rough graze of his pants against your clit, the depth of his penetration hitting something buried in your body's core. You lurch against him, arms wrapping around his neck as a whimper escapes. You go boneless, all loose and wet, and you feel his nose press into your cheek, his masked mouth sliding against your jaw as he grinds into you.

“Ss’good,” he utters quietly. “So tight, love.”

He's barely made any noises beyond guttural, low grunts, or heavy breathing. You think he could be trying to collar the situation and hold himself back. No confessions.

But then, he plants his feet and begins to really fuck you. He pistons his hips and slams up until there is only the sound of your soaked cunt swallowing him repeatedly along with slapping skin. “Fucking hell.” He grunts. “Jesus.”

It’s a brutal taking, and you aren’t soaked enough. It’s a rasp and a chafe, and you’re raw as you take what he gives you. “Good girl,” he says against your tits. “Good fucking girl.” He’s still powerful, even with his hands locked behind his back. He’s fully claiming you, hips lifting as his cock punches up against the furthest part of your core.

“Simon,” you say. “Come for me. I know you need to.”

His voice catches on a sound. It’s all from his belly, low and deliberate as his length begins to throb, sheathed to the hilt. He stiffens. The warm rush of his spend fills you.

It goes and goes as you straddle him, allowing every last drop. As soon as it’s over, you try to draw away, give him space. “Don’t you dare, lass,” he protests, clear and streaked in the remaining flash of that feverish pollen. “I think I’ll need you again.”

You blink down at him, surprised.

“Stay with me,” he clarifies, ducking his head as he shifts beneath your weight. When he lifts his face, his eyes spark. A few stars.

4K notes · View notes