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Well, it was good to know they were going to meet even more androids by just being in Peter's immediate vicinity. At least so far only one seemed fine attacking strangers on sight, even though Bishop wasn't too keen on trusting Nines' either after the poor state he showed up in.
And knowing there was another nearly identical more deranged android around they hadn't met yet didn't please Bishop either. So he stood back with his arms crossed, keeping an eye out in case somebody else felt like joining them.
"It's funny, isn't it? You meet a whole new guy, but it's still you!" Rook said while giving Strasky an encouraging pat on the shoulder, "It looks like you guys have a thing for getting in trouble. But it's clear you're good at making friends too."
"Rook is something of an expert on the topic. However, we have more pressing matters to tend to." Willow chimed in, "To answer your question, it will indeed be custom work, but fortunately time isn't a concern."
"Yeah. We just want to know if you can put a construct into an android so they won't be stuck being formless entities anymore." Rook said with a shrug, "Those guys could really use having bodies again."
"You would be paid accordingly, both for the work itself and for the risk of taking part in such a project." A possibly illegal one, though Willow simply glanced at Dan instead of mentioning it out loud, "And we'd be thankful if none of this was mentioned to the authorities, or to Cyberlife, lest they start having more ideas they would come to regret later on."
The android Bishop chose to ignore Dan and gave Vincent only a slight nod. Truth be told, he didn't know why Bishop specifically had made him snap like that. It wasn't the first time a stranger got close to Vincent, after all. He just knew not to trust someone with his face.
He watched Bishop follow the others after fixing his tie, still not liking the idea of the man being around, but not enough to ask him who the hell he was.
"Charming place." Rook said, eyeing the cells.
"The previous owner was known for its questionable work." Willow explained, "He will hardly be missed."
Willow's disdainful tone was telling of what she thought of Zlatko. So, Rook decided to keep her rest of her comments to herself in favor of having a look at the man of the hour.
Or rather the boy. Age wasn't something Bishop usually concerned himself with. Still, being faced with the perspective of another, younger Strasky was already causing him to grind his teeth in anticipation of the nonsense they'd certainly have to deal with.
"Yep, that's Strasky all right." Rook said, taking a step forward, "Hi, Iâm Rook and this is Willow. We're here because we need someone who's good with androids to do some work for us. But before we get to that, there's someone you should meet."
Bishop proceeded to grab the back of Strasky's uniform and moved him into view. "Meet yourself."
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Hi! Could I request something? I just saw you accept new request again! I was thinking of yearning. Them yearning for oblivious tav.
I just love a good old yearning prompt
yesssssss the yearning the pining the dramaaa
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Karlach:
Karlach was trying her best to keep it together. As she sat by the campfire, her eyes kept drifting toward you, her massive frame leaning slightly forward as if she could somehow close the gap between you just by willing it. You were tending to a few weapons youâd scavenged earlier in the day, completely oblivious to the way her molten eyes lingered on you, the way her hands fidgeted with a piece of stray leather to distract herself from the ache in her chest.
Wyll, sitting nearby with a mischievous grin, had noticed. Of course, he had noticed. The Blade of Frontiers had a knack for picking up on unspoken emotions, and Karlach was as subtle as a roaring forge.
âYou know,â Wyll began, his voice low and teasing as he leaned toward Karlach, âif you keep staring at them like that, youâre liable to set the poor one on fire.â
Karlach froze, her cheeks flushing as embers flickered to life along her horns.
âWhat?â she whispered sharply, her voice cracking. âI wasnât staring! I was justââ
âYearning?â Wyll supplied with a grin, leaning back casually.
âI donât yearn,â Karlach snapped, though her voice lacked conviction.
âOh, come now,â Wyll said, his tone smug. âThe sighing, the pining, the tragic glances when heâs not lookingâitâs downright poetic.â He tapped his chin theatrically. âItâs almost enough to compose a ballad.â
Karlach shot him a glare, her flames flaring slightly around her shoulders. âWyll, I swear, if you donât shut itââ
But it was too late. Her embarrassment sent her infernal engine into overdrive, and the flames on her body surged. The sudden flare caught your attention, and you glanced up from your work.
âKarlach?â you called out, your voice filled with concern as you stood and crossed the campfire toward her. âAre you okay?â
The sheer earnestness in your tone made her heart lurch painfully in her chest. She quickly tried to wave you off, her hands fanning at her shoulders as if she could dampen the flames.
âItâs nothing! Justâhot, you know?â she stammered.
âWell, yeah, youâre always hot,â you said, grabbing a nearby waterskin. âBut this seems worse than usual.â
Karlach froze, her eyes going wide at your words. Did youâdid you just call her hot? Surely, you didnât mean it like that, right?
âHere, let me help,â you said, uncapping the waterskin.
âNo, no, really, Iâm fineââ
Too late. You doused her with a splash of water, and instead of calming her flames, it only made things worse. The steam hissed around her, mingling with her rising panic, and her flames flared even brighter.
âGods, Iâm sorry!â you exclaimed, looking horrified. âDid that make it worse?â
Karlach buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly. âNo, no, itâs fine, justâdonât worry about it.â
Wyll, watching the scene unfold, laughed openly now. âYouâre really outdoing yourself, Karlach. I think the entire camp will see those flames soon.â
You shot Wyll a confused look. âWhatâs he talking about?â
Karlach peeked through her fingers, her flames dimming slightly as her mortification reached its peak.
âNothing! Heâs just⌠being a prat,â she said quickly, glaring at Wyll, who only grinned wider.
âIâd call it encouragement,â Wyll said lightly. âAfter all, someone here needs to take a hint.â
You blinked at him, clearly puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Karlach stood abruptly, the ground under her feet crunching as her weight shifted.
âIâm gonna, uh, go check onâanything else,â she muttered, stomping off toward the edge of camp.
You watched her go, bewildered, before turning back to Wyll. âDid I do something wrong?â
Wyll chuckled, shaking his head. âNot wrong, no. Just oblivious. Donât worryâyouâll figure it out eventually. Maybe.â
You frowned, glancing back toward where Karlach had disappeared into the shadows, her flames still faintly flickering in the distance. You didnât know what youâd missed, but something about the way sheâd looked at you before she left lingered in your mind, warm and unexplained.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Minthara:
The campfire crackled gently, casting a warm glow across the assembled group. You sat on a log, sharpening your blade, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents running through the evening.
Minthara, sitting a few paces away, had her sharp red eyes trained on you, a faint furrow in her brow. Her usual composed demeanor was slightly off tonightâher movements a touch too deliberate, her glances toward you lingering just a second too long.
Shadowheart, one of the resident camp gossips, noticed. She always did.
âWhy donât you just say something, Minthara?â Shadowheart drawled lazily, her lips curling into a smirk as she toyed with a loose strand of her hair. âItâs not as though subtlety is your strong suit. Or theirs, for that matter.â
Mintharaâs sharp gaze snapped toward her, irritation flashing across her face.
âI do not need your advice, cleric,â she said coolly.
âOh, I think you do,â Shadowheart said, undeterred. âBecause whatever it is youâve been doing clearly isnât working. They havenât even noticed.â She tilted her head toward you, who were now carefully oiling your weapon, oblivious to the tension building around you.
Mintharaâs grip on her dagger tightened, her knuckles turning white. âThey have other matters to attend to. The fault lies not with my approach but their⌠distraction.â
Shadowheart chuckled. âDistraction? Theyâre so dense they probably think the moonrise is flirting with them. Youâll have to carve it into the side of their tent before they catch on.â
That was the last straw. Minthara stood abruptly, her dark cloak billowing behind her as she marched across the campsite toward you.
âMinthara?â you said, startled as her shadow fell over you.
Before you could say another word, she grabbed you by the front of your tunic and pulled you to your feet with a surprising amount of force. Her crimson eyes burned with frustration and something else you couldnât quite place.
âYou,â she snapped, her voice ringing out across the camp, âare impossibly blind.â
âW-what?â you stammered, your mind racing to figure out what youâd done wrong this time.
âI have fought by your side,â she began, her voice rising. âI have trusted you, protected you, respected you. I have given you every sign imaginable, and yet you remain oblivious to the fact that Iââ She stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath, as if even saying the words aloud were a battle she needed to win. âThat I desire you, you fool!â
The camp went silent. Even the fire seemed to crackle a little softer as everyone turned to stare.
You blinked, utterly dumbfounded. âYou⌠you desire me?â
Minthara groaned, her head tipping back in exasperation before she fixed you with an incredulous look. âYes! Must I spell it out further? Or perhaps I should inscribe it on your blade since that seems to be where your attention is always focused!â
Shadowheart, who had been watching the entire exchange with barely suppressed laughter, finally burst out into an uncontrollable giggle.
âOh, gods, this is better than I couldâve hoped,â she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
Minthara turned her glare on her, her lips curling in irritation. âIf you say one more word, Shadowheart, I willââ
âOkay, okay,â you interrupted, holding up your hands. âEveryone calm down.â You turned back to Minthara, your voice softening. âIâm sorry if I missed the signs, Minthara. I honestly didnât realize.â
Her anger seemed to waver, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability.
âHow could you not?â she asked, almost to herself. You hesitated, then placed a tentative hand on hers, still gripping your tunic.
âBecause Iâm an idiot,â you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. âBut Iâm an idiot whoâs honored and⌠maybe a little thrilled by what you just said.â
For the first time that evening, Minthara seemed at a loss for words. Her lips parted slightly, her sharp demeanor softening as she searched your face.
âThrilled, you say?â she murmured, the barest hint of a smirk returning.
âThrilled,â you confirmed, your cheeks warming under her intense gaze.
The tension in the air shifted, no longer charged with frustration but with something warmer, something promising. Minthara released your tunic, smoothing it out almost absently. âThen perhaps next time, you wonât require such⌠dramatic measures to understand me.â
Shadowheart made a kissy noise behind you, and you shot her a glare over your shoulder. Minthara, however, ignored her entirely, her focus solely on you.
âNow,â she said, her voice back to its usual measured tone. âShall we continue this conversation somewhere with fewer interruptions?â
You nodded, feeling a grin spread across your face. âLead the way.â
As you walked off together, Shadowheartâs laughter echoed behind you, but you couldnât bring yourself to care. For once, the fog of obliviousness had lifted, and you were exactly where you wanted to beâat Mintharaâs side.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Lae'zel:
Laeâzel had always been a force of natureâher sharp tongue, battle-hardened demeanor, and unyielding confidence left no room for doubt. And thatâs exactly how she preferred it. To anyone observing her, she was the epitome of githyanki discipline and control. But deep down, behind the steel exterior and fiery eyes, she was at war with herself.
She had a massive, undeniable crush on you.
It was maddening. Every time you smiled at her or even so much as glanced her way, her heart would raceâa sensation she would have sworn was impossible for her kind. She had tried everything to make her interest known: sparring sessions where she pushed you to your limits (and a bit beyond), blunt declarations of your 'adequacy' in her eyes, and even offers to 'crush your enemies together in glorious combat'. But somehow, none of it seemed to land.
Instead, you remained oblivious, flashing her that infuriatingly kind smile and treating her like a valued ally rather than someone she desperately wanted to claim as her partner.
One day, during a training session, Laeâzelâs frustration reached its peak. She had you pinned beneath her, her blade at your throat, and instead of fear or admiration, you chuckled.
âNice move,â you said, your grin wide. âIâll have to remember that one.â
She grit her teeth and growled, pressing the blade a little closerânot enough to hurt, but enough to make her point.
âYou do not take me seriously!â she snapped.
You raised an eyebrow. âWhat are you talking about? Youâre one of the most serious people I know.â
âNot in battle, fool!â she snarled, pulling back and stalking away, her blade sheathed with a sharp clang, as you walked bewilderdly back to your tent.
From a short distance, Halsin, who had been watching the training with an amused glint in his eye, stepped forward to intercept Laeâzel. She stopped abruptly, glaring at the druid as if daring him to speak.
âLaeâzel,â Halsin said in his calm, measured tone, âmay I offer you some advice?â
Her eyes narrowed. âYou may offer. I will decide whether it is worth hearing.â
He chuckled, unfazed. âIâve noticed your⌠interest in our leader.â
Her nostrils flared, and she crossed her arms. âAnd what of it?â
âYou are a warrior, and I admire your strength,â Halsin began, âbut perhaps your methods of courtship are⌠misplaced.â
âWhat nonsense is this?â she scoffed. âI have made my intentions clear. I have praised their competence. I have challenged them in combat. What more is required?â
Halsin smiled gently. âPerhaps a softer touch. Words that reveal your feelings without the shield of aggression. A gesture that shows your care rather than your strength.â
Laeâzel looked utterly baffled, as if he had just suggested she surrender to a mind flayer.
âSoftness is weakness,â she spat.
âNot always,â Halsin countered. âSometimes, it takes more strength to be vulnerable than to wield a sword.â
She opened her mouth to retort but found herself at a loss. Instead, she grumbled something unintelligible and stalked off, leaving Halsin shaking his head with a knowing smile.
The next morning, Laeâzel approached you at camp. There was an uncharacteristic stiffness to her posture, as if she were preparing for battle, yet her hands were empty.
âLeader,â she began, her voice clipped but quieter than usual.
You looked up from your map, offering her that same smile that never failed to undo her. âWhatâs up, Laeâzel?â
She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. For a moment, she considered abandoning this foolishness and returning to her usual methods. But Halsinâs advice echoed in her mind, and she forced herself to continue.
âI⌠value your presence,â she said, the words sounding foreign and awkward.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. âUh, thanks? I value yours too.â
âNo, you do not understand,â she snapped, then took a deep breath to steady herself. âI⌠value you. Your strength. Your wit. Your⌠idiotic charm.â
Your confusion deepened. âLaeâzel, are you feeling okay?â
She growled in frustration, her hand twitching toward her sword out of habit before she forced it to her side. âDo I need to spell it out for you, fool?â
âApparently,â you said, still clueless but clearly trying to follow.
She stepped closer, her amber eyes burning into yours. âI desire you, leader. As my equal. My partner. My⌠lover.â
The words hung in the air, and for the first time, you saw Laeâzel in a new lightânot just as a fierce warrior, but as someone deeply passionate and utterly vulnerable in this moment.
âOh,â you said, the realization dawning on you. âOh.â
Her jaw tightened, and she crossed her arms defensively. âIf you find this amusing, I willââ
âI donât,â you interrupted, a small smile playing at your lips. âI just didnât thinkâwell, I didnât know.â
âBecause you are blind,â she muttered, though there was no real venom in her tone.
You stepped closer, reaching out tentatively. âLaeâzel, Iâm flattered. Truly. And⌠Iâd like to see where this goes.â
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she looked as though she didnât quite believe you. Then, with a sharp nod, she straightened her back and let a rare, genuine smile grace her lips.
âGood,â she said simply. âNow, let us prepare for the day. We have enemies to slay, and I will not let them distract you from what is ours.â
You couldnât help but laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. Laeâzel might not have mastered the art of softness, but in her own way, she was perfect.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Shadowheart:
Shadowheart had always been composed, her expression a careful mask of neutrality, but recently, every time she caught sight of you, her calm façade wavered. Her chest tightened, her thoughts scattered, and her usually sharp words became softer, laced with an uncharacteristic warmth. She knew the truth of it: she had fallen for you. Hard.
And yet, despite her every effort to show you her feelings, you remained utterly oblivious.
At breakfast that morning, Shadowheart decided to take another approach. She brushed past you as you prepared the fire, the faint scent of lavender trailing in her wake.
âGood morning,â she said, her voice soft but laced with what she thought was a hint of allure.
You looked up, smiling warmly. âMorning, Shadowheart. Did you sleep well?â
She nodded, sitting beside you with deliberate closeness. âAs well as I could, knowing what awaits us each day. And you?â
âFine, thanks. Just trying to get this fire going,â you replied, your focus returning to the task at hand.
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a murmur. âYouâre very skilled with your hands. Itâs⌠admirable.â
You blinked at her, utterly missing the meaning behind her words. âThanks! I guess all those years of camping have paid off.â
Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but she refused to give up. Throughout the morning, she found small ways to stay near you, brushing her fingers against yours when you handed her something, complimenting you with what she thought was a sultry tone, and even laughing at your jokesâsome of which, she had to admit, were terrible.
Still, you seemed completely unaware.
By midday, Shadowheart was frustrated beyond measure. She found Karlach near the edge of camp, inspecting her weapons, and stormed over.
âKarlach,â she said, her tone clipped but tinged with exasperation.
Karlach looked up, her fiery heart pulsing warmly. âWhatâs up, Shads?â
"Please don't call me that," Shadowheart crossed her arms, her frustration bubbling over. âI donât know what to do. Iâve been dropping hintsâno, practically throwing myself at them, and they just⌠donât notice!â
Karlach blinked, then grinned, clearly enjoying the situation more than she should. âWait, youâre talking aboutâ?â
âYes,â Shadowheart snapped, her cheeks tinged with pink.
Karlach let out a hearty laugh, her flames flickering slightly brighter. âOh, this is rich. You? Pining? I never thought Iâd see the day.â
Shadowheart glared at her. âThis is not amusing. I need advice, not mockery.â
Karlach wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. âAlright, alright. Let me think. So, youâve been⌠what, flirting?â
âIâve tried everything,â Shadowheart admitted, throwing her hands in the air. âCompliments, proximity, even subtle touches. And nothing! They treat me the same as everyone else.â
Karlach hummed, tapping a clawed finger against her chin. âMaybe theyâre just really dense. Or, yâknow, not used to someone as⌠uh, mysterious as you.â
Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. âAnd what do you suggest I do? Write it out in blood on their tent?â
Karlach snorted. âHey, that might actually work. But no, maybe you need to be more direct. Like, âHey, I think youâre cute, letâs share a bedroll tonight.ââ
Shadowheart stared at her, aghast. âI am not saying that.â
âYour loss,â Karlach said with a shrug. âBut seriously, just talk to them. Be honest. I bet theyâd love it.â
Shadowheart sighed, running a hand through her hair. âHonesty. Of course. The one thing Iâve been avoiding.â
âHey, they like you for you,â Karlach said, clapping her on the shoulder. âWell, they would if they had half a brain and knew what was good for them. Go get âem, tiger.â
Later that evening, as you sat by the campfire, Shadowheart approached you with purposeful strides. She was determined to take Karlachâs advice, even if it made her heart pound and her palms sweat.
âCan I join you?â she asked, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
âOf course,â you said, shifting to make room for her.
She hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. âThereâs something I need to tell you.â
You turned to her, your expression curious but kind. âWhat is it?â
Shadowheart opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let out a shaky breath and looked into the fire.
âI⌠I care about you,â she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, completely misunderstanding. âI care about you too, Shadowheart. Youâre a great friend.â
She groaned inwardly, pinching the bridge of her nose. âNo, I mean I care about you in a⌠different way.â
Realization dawned on your face, your eyes widening. âOh.â
âOh?â she echoed, feeling both vulnerable and absurdly exposed.
âI didnâtâShadowheart, I had no idea,â you said, your voice filled with genuine surprise and warmth.
âI noticed,â she muttered, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.
You reached out, gently placing a hand on hers. âIâm sorry if Iâve been clueless. I guess I just⌠never thought someone like you would feel that way about someone like me.â
She looked at you, her expression softening. âAnd why wouldnât I? Youâre⌠remarkable.â
The sincerity in her voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldnât help but smile. âWell, I guess that makes two of us, then.â
Her eyes widened slightly. âYou⌠feel the same?â
âYeah,â you said, your cheeks flushing. âI guess I was just waiting for a sign.â
Shadowheart laughed softly, the sound lighter than youâd ever heard from her. âApparently, I need to be less subtle.â
As the fire crackled between you, the tension that had been simmering for so long finally gave way to something warmer, something real. And for the first time in weeks, Shadowheart felt at peace.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Jaheira:
Jaheira was not a woman who pined. Or so she told herself. A High Harper, disciplined and pragmatic, she had weathered countless battles and heartbreaks. Yet, here she was, sneaking glances at you across camp, her chest tightening whenever you smiled or laughed. It was maddening. How had you managed to worm your way so deeply into her thoughts?
Despite her years of wisdom, Jaheira found herself at a loss. She didnât know how to bridge the gap between the two of you, not without risking her pride or the delicate balance of your group.
The worst part was your complete and utter obliviousness. Sheâd tried subtletyâlingering conversations, offering you extra help with tactics, even sharing stories of her youth that she told no one else. You simply smiled warmly, thanked her, and went about your day as though her heart hadnât been laid bare in every word.
One evening, after another frustrating day of yearning and getting nowhere, Astarion finally had enough.
âJaheira, darling, may I have a word?â Astarion said, sidling up to her as she sharpened her blade near the fire.
âWhat do you want, Astarion?â she asked, her tone brusque.
He smirked, clearly unbothered by her irritation. âOh, nothing much. Just to offer my⌠expert services in matters of the heart.â
Jaheira blinked, her sharpening stone pausing mid-stroke. âWhat are you talking about?â
Astarion gestured dramatically toward you, where you sat chatting animatedly with Karlach. âIâm talking about your obvious pining for our dear leader. Itâs positively tragic to watch.â
Jaheiraâs cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned back to her blade. âI donât know what you mean.â
âOh, please,â Astarion said, rolling his eyes. âYou practically glow whenever theyâre around. Itâs adorable, really. But I must say, your approach could use some⌠finesse.â
Jaheira scowled at him. âI am not some lovesick fool, and I certainly donât need advice from a vampire with more charm than sense.â
âPerhaps not,â Astarion said, unfazed. âBut consider this: have your current tactics worked? Have they so much as noticed your affection?â
Jaheiraâs silence was answer enough.
âI thought so,â Astarion said smugly. âNow, listen closely. You need to be bold. Direct. Use your natural charisma and authority to your advantage. And if all else fails, a little flirtation never hurt anyone.â
Jaheira narrowed her eyes. âI am not a charlatan like you, Astarion. I wonât lower myself to cheap tricks.â
âWho said anything about cheap tricks?â Astarion replied, feigning offense. âThink of it as⌠a strategic maneuver. After all, you wouldnât hesitate to outwit an enemy in battle, would you?â
Jaheira sighed, considering his words. As much as she hated to admit it, he wasnât entirely wrong. âFine. Iâll listen. But if this backfires, Iâll hold you personally responsible.â
âSplendid,â Astarion said, clapping his hands together. âNow, letâs start with a little more confidence in your approachâŚâ
The next morning, you noticed something strange about Jaheira. She was⌠different.
She approached you with a faint smile that seemed just a touch too practiced, her movements deliberate and graceful in a way that reminded you of someone else.
âGood morning,â she said, her voice smooth and measured. âDid you sleep well?â
You blinked, caught off guard. âUh, yeah. I did. And you?â
âPerfectly,â she replied, her eyes lingering on you in a way that felt⌠odd. âThough I couldnât help but think of our conversation from yesterday. You truly have a fascinating mind.â
You tilted your head, trying to piece together what was happening. Something about her tone, her body languageâit was familiar. And then it hit you.
âWait a minute,â you said, narrowing your eyes. âWhy are you acting like Astarion?â
Jaheira froze, her carefully crafted façade slipping for just a moment. âI⌠what?â
âYouâre doing the thing he does,â you said, mimicking a dramatic hand gesture. âThe suave, overly charming thing. Itâs not like you.â
Jaheiraâs cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned away, muttering something under her breath.
From across camp, Astarion burst into laughter, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. âOh, this is too good!â
Jaheira shot him a withering glare before turning back to you, her expression softening. âPerhaps Iâve been⌠trying too hard. Forgive me if I seemed unlike myself.â
You smiled, your warmth cutting through her frustration. âYou donât need to try so hard, Jaheira. I like you just as you are.â
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she didnât know what to say. Then, with a small, genuine smile, she nodded. âThank you. That means⌠more than you know.â
As she walked away, Astarion approached, still grinning. âWell, that could have gone better, but at least they noticed you.â
Jaheira shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. âNever again, Astarion. Never again.â
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Gale:
The late afternoon sun hung low, painting the riverside in warm golds and soft shadows. Gale, waist-deep in the cool water, had his arms crossed in front of him as if the sheer act of holding himself together could quell the maelstrom of feelings raging inside. His crush on you was a storm that refused to abate, leaving him with sleepless nights and days filled with longing glances.
From the riverbank, Minthara watched him with a look of abject irritation. Minthara had ordered him to take a dip in the cold water after he had decided to unleash his love-filled ranting unto her ears as they collected water. She assured him she would be fine to take the water back by herself, and when he thought she had left he keenly stripped and waded into the water. But Minthara had not left, no, Gale's lovesick demeanor had created a vendetta against her and she decided to take action.
"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath. She didnât think it was possible for wizards to get worse, but Gale was proving her wrong. With a smirk, she moved silently to where Gale had left his clothes folded neatly on a nearby rock. With the swift efficiency of a seasoned tactician, she gathered them up and strode back toward camp.
You were enjoying a moment of quiet when Minthara approached, holding a bundle of robes in her arms.
"The wizard is by the river," she said bluntly. "It seems heâs in need of assistance."
You frowned, glancing at the clothing. "Assistance? With what?"
Mintharaâs lips quirked into a thin smile. "He appears⌠indisposed. Perhaps you should go and see for yourself."
Before you could ask more, she tossed the robes into the fire and strode away, leaving you thoroughly puzzled but intrigued. You could have sworn those were Gale's. With haste, you made your way towards the river and when you arrived at the riverbank, you called out, "Gale? Everything alright?"
Gale startled, his head whipping around to face you, his hair slicked back and glistening in the sunlight. Clearly he had been searching for his robes. "Ah, no! I mean, yesâyes, everythingâs fine!"
You raised a brow, stepping closer to the waterâs edge. "Are you sure? Minthara said you needed help."
At the mention of her name, Gale groaned. "Of course, she did. And I suppose she also absconded with my robes?" He shot a wary glance toward the shore, clearly trying to maintain some distance.
"Unfortunately so. Whatâs going on?" you asked, scanning the area. Then you noticed the way his face burned red, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "Why are you still in the water? Itâs getting late. and the river's current is about to pick up, you need to get out, now."
He hesitated, his fingers flexing nervously beneath the waterâs surface. "Itâs⌠complicated."
"Complicated how?" You looked around, spotting no immediate danger apart from the increasing current. "Do you need a hand getting out? I can lend you my cloak."
"You donât understand!" Gale blurted, his voice cracking slightly. "This isnât about the coldâor the current. ItâsâŚ" He trailed off, visibly warring with himself.
You tilted your head, curious and slightly amused. "Then what is it about? Youâre not exactly making it easy to help you."
Gale sighed deeply, sinking a little lower into the water until only his nose and eyes peeked out. Then, in a low, hurried tone, he confessed, "Iâm afraid my feelings for you have⌠manifested in a rather inconvenient manner."
Your brow furrowed. "Feelings for me?"
"Yes!" Gale said, his voice growing more desperate. "Feelings. Strong feelingsâromantic, longing, entirely improper feelings for someone as⌠exceptional as you."
You blinked, the weight of his words settling over you like the warmth of the setting sun. "Youâwait. You like me?"
"Yes," he muttered, his face practically steaming despite the cool water. "Which is precisely why I canât leave this river at the moment."
The realization dawned slowly, but when it clicked, a grin spread across your face. "Oh," you said, fighting back laughter. "Oh."
"Yes," Gale grumbled, his mortification complete. "You see now why this is problematic."
You couldnât stop the chuckle that escaped. "So, let me get this straight. Youâre saying your feelings are⌠visible at the moment?"
Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you insist on phrasing it that way, then yes."
You laughed harder, the sound bright and unrestrained. "Gale, thatâs not the end of the world."
"Easy for you to say," he muttered. "Youâre not the one at risk of a compromising exit."
Still laughing, you crouched by the waterâs edge, your cloak in hand. "Come on. I promise Iâll look the other way. Just wrap this around your waist - tightly, and letâs get you back to camp."
Gale hesitated, clearly torn between his pride and the practicality of your offer. The river was rising, and the current becoming less forgiving. He didn't know what would be worse, coming out in this state or having to have you rescue him whilst he was in this condition. Finally, he sighed. "Youâre infuriatingly kind, you know that?"
"Only to people I like," you teased, winking at him.
That earned you a small, genuine smile, despite his predicament. Slowly, cautiously, he edged closer to the shore, his blush never fading. You diligently kept your eyes closed, but there was that little devil inside you willing you to take a peak. He wrapped the cloak around his waist, only for you to hear a small, defeated sigh.
"You cannot laugh at me, but please may I request that I carry your shoes back to camp?" He asked, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Wow you must really like me-"
"-The shoes please!"
Still giggling to yourself, you took off your shoes and passed them to him, allowing him to use them as a shield to his nether region.
You were finally able to look at him, his cheeks flushed beet red as he murmured, "I am going to kill Minthara, or at least try to."
"You know, Gale, I think Minthara might have done us both a favor."
Gale groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Never speak of this again. And especially do not encourage her behaviour."
"No promises," you said with a grin, walking beside him as you both headed back to camp. "Perhaps, I might want to get caught short with you."
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Astarion:
Astarion was not accustomed to being ignored, least of all by someone who had managed to captivate him so thoroughly. Yet here you were, brushing off his every flirtation, every lingering glance, every word dripping with a charm that could make others fall at his feet.
You were different, infuriatingly so. Every smirk, every sly compliment, every touch of his hand to your arm was met with a polite laugh, a nod, orâworseâa casual thanks before you moved on as though he hadnât just thrown his best seductive lines at you.
For someone like Astarion, whose every move had been meticulously calculated for centuries, this was unbearable. He was practically seething with frustration as he watched you across the camp, laughing at something Karlach had said. He sighed dramatically, slumping onto a nearby log, the perfect picture of a man whose heart was in shambles.
It wasnât that he didnât understand why you might be cautious around him. He wasnât blind to his own past or the scars it had left on his soul. But this? This obliviousness wasnât cautionâit was sheer ignorance of his very obvious yearning.
And so, out of options and desperately needing help, he did something he never thought he would: he sought out Gale.
Gale was sitting by the fire, absently flipping through his spellbook, when Astarion approached him. The vampireâs usual smirk was replaced with something that looked suspiciously like a grimace.
âGale,â Astarion began, his voice unusually subdued.
Gale looked up, raising an eyebrow. âAstarion? To what do I owe this⌠peculiar honor?â
Astarion waved a hand dismissively. âYes, yes, spare me the preamble. I need your help.â
âMy help?â Gale blinked. âWhat kind of apocalyptic disaster requires my assistance? Surely not something involving a certain someone we both know?â
Astarionâs lips pressed into a thin line. âYes. Them.â
Gale set his book down, his interest piqued. âAh, I see. Youâre pining.â
âI am not pining,â Astarion snapped, though the blush creeping up his pale cheeks betrayed him. âI am⌠strategically pursuing. Subtly, I might add.â
Gale snorted. âIf by subtle, you mean utterly transparent, then yes. Youâve been as subtle as a fireball in a wheat field.â
Astarion scowled. âThey donât see it that way. They think Iâm just⌠charming. Which, of course, I am, but thereâs more to it than that.â
âAnd you want my advice?â Gale leaned back, crossing his arms. âMe, the man youâve spent weeks mocking for my âtragic romanticismâ?â
âYes, yes, revel in the irony if you must,â Astarion said impatiently. âBut youâre annoyingly good- most of the time, at all this grand gesture nonsense, and clearly, I need a new approach.â
Gale chuckled, a little too pleased with himself. âAll right. Letâs see. The key here is sincerity. You canât just charm your way through this one. You have to show them how you feel.â
Astarion frowned. âAnd how exactly do I do that?â
âThink of something meaningful to them,â Gale suggested. âAn act that demonstrates you understand them, that you care about them deeply. And,â he added with a smirk, âmaybe tone down the smirking and innuendo for five minutes.â
The next day, Astarion put Galeâs advice into actionâor at least, his version of it. You were sitting by the riverbank, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when Astarion approached you, holding something behind his back.
âAh, there you are,â he said, his tone softer than usual.
You smiled up at him. âWhatâs up, Astarion?â
âI, uh⌠I noticed something the other day.â He cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically awkward. âYou mentioned how much you missed those silly little biscuits from Baldurâs Gate, the ones with the sugar glaze.â
You blinked, caught off guard. âI did?â
âYes, you did,â he said quickly. âAnd, well⌠here.â He produced a carefully wrapped package and handed it to you. Inside were a handful of the biscuits, slightly crumbled but still intact.
Your eyes widened. âHow did youâŚ?â
âDonât ask questions,â he said, his smirk creeping back despite his best efforts. âJust enjoy them.â
You looked up at him, touched by the gesture but still utterly oblivious to the deeper meaning. âThanks, Astarion. Thatâs really sweet of you.â
He stared at you for a moment, waiting for somethingâanythingâto click. When it didnât, he sighed dramatically and flopped onto the grass beside you.
âAre you truly this dense, my beautiful fool?â he muttered under his breath.
âHm?â
âNothing,â he said, flashing you a too-bright smile. âEnjoy your biscuits, darling.â
From a distance, Gale watched the exchange with a shake of his head, muttering, âSome people are beyond help.â
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Wyll:
Wyll was not used to being ignored, especially when it came to matters of the heart. He prided himself on his charm, his courtly manners, and his ability to woo with a single smile. Yet, when it came to you, all his gentlemanly gestures seemed to bounce right off you like a deflected blade.
He would offer you his hand to help you over rough terrain, only to receive a simple "Thanks, Wyll!" and a cheerful pat on his shoulder. Heâd bring you breakfast, perfectly arranged, and youâd compliment him on his âteam spirit.â Heâd even tried a few subtler lines, but you always brushed them off as his natural charisma, as if his feelings werenât entirely focused on you.
So, after one particularly frustrating evening where you didnât even notice how his gaze lingered on you by the firelight, Wyll decided he needed help.
And who better to consult than the campâs most direct and fearless member, Laeâzel?
Laeâzel was sharpening her sword when Wyll approached, his usual confident demeanor slightly crumpled under the weight of his unspoken affection. She glanced up, her sharp eyes narrowing.
âWyll,â she said bluntly, âyou look as though youâve swallowed a blade sideways. Spit it out.â
He cleared his throat, glancing around to make sure no one else was in earshot. âItâs about⌠them,â he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Laeâzelâs expression didnât change. âAh, the object of your obsession.â
Wyll winced. âItâs not an obsession.â
âCall it what you will,â she said, shrugging. âYou pine for them like a fledgling seeking a mate. What of it?â
âI donât know how to⌠tell them,â Wyll confessed, his usual eloquence failing him. âThey seem entirely immune to my advances.â
Laeâzel snorted. âPerhaps because your âadvancesâ are weak. Soft. You dote on them like a mother hen, not a warrior. If you want their attention, you must assert dominance.â
âAssert dominance?â Wyll repeated, looking increasingly alarmed.
âYes,â Laeâzel said firmly. âChallenge them. Best them in combat. Show them your strength. Then, when they are weak and trembling, you proclaim your intent to claim them as yours.â
Wyllâs face turned scarlet. âThatâsâThatâs not how courtship works!â
âOf course it is,â Laeâzel said, waving a dismissive hand. âYou prove your physical and sexual prowess through battle. What better way to ensure compatibility?â
Wyll sputtered, his composure unraveling. âIâI donât think theyâd appreciate being âclaimedâ like a prize after a fight.â
âThey would respect it,â Laeâzel insisted. âAnd likely find it arousing.â
âLaeâzel!â Wyllâs voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, his flames of embarrassment rivaling Karlachâs.
From across the camp, you noticed the commotion and Wyllâs obvious distress. Concerned, you got up and made your way over. âWyll? Are you okay?â
Laeâzelâs smirk widened as Wyllâs blush deepened. He scrambled to his feet, fumbling for words. âAhâYes! Fine! Everything is fine!â
You raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. âAre you sure? You look like youâve just lost a sparring match.â
Before Laeâzel could open her mouth to make things infinitely worse, Wyll quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you aside.
âJust a minor⌠disagreement,â he said quickly, his voice cracking again. âNothing to worry about.â
You gave him a curious look, but his obvious flustered state distracted you from pressing further. âOkay, if youâre sure.â
Laeâzel watched you go with Wyll, shaking her head and muttering, âCoward. They would have respected a proper duel.â
Meanwhile, Wyll was doing his best to calm his racing heart and come up with a less mortifying way to tell you how he feltâideally without Laeâzelâs "help."
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
Halsin:
Halsin prided himself on his control, his connection to nature, and his ability to remain grounded in even the most chaotic of circumstances. But when it came to you, all of that composure seemed to dissolve like frost under the morning sun.
You were utterly magnetic to himâyour presence so compelling that his heart would stutter every time you entered the same space. He found himself enchanted by the curve of your smile, the warmth in your voice, the kindness in your touch. And it was unbearable. Literally, because every time you touched his arm or leaned in to speak to him, his instincts would flare wildly out of control.
The first time it happened, youâd brushed some stray leaves off his shoulder after he returned from foraging. âHalsin, youâve brought back half the forest,â you joked, smiling up at him.
Halsin opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a rush of heat overtook him, andâ bamâhe was suddenly a large, startled elk.
You jumped back with a yelp of surprise, staring wide-eyed at the animal in front of you. âHalsin?â
The elk gave a deep snort, its head hanging low as if mortified.
It happened again not long after, when you touched his hand while passing him a flask of water. This time, he transformed into a wolf, looking up at you with ears pinned back, practically radiating sheepishness.
âHalsin,â you laughed, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears, âyouâve got to warn me if youâre going to do that.â
By the time the third accidental wildshape happenedâthis time as a squirrel after you had simply smiled at himâJaheira had had enough.
The older druid cornered Halsin after dinner, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face. âYouâre a leader, Halsin. A figure of strength and wisdom. Yet here you are, hiding in fur and feathers because of a crush.â
âItâs not just a crush,â Halsin muttered, his deep voice unusually uncertain. âItâs⌠consuming. Every time I try to speak to them, I lose myself. They are radiant, Jaheira. I can hardly stand near them withoutââ
ââturning into livestock, yes,â Jaheira interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. âYouâre a druid, not a child. Get a grip, Halsin. They wonât notice your feelings unless you make them clear. And for the love of Silvanus, do it without shifting.â
Halsin sighed heavily but nodded. âYouâre right. I must face this head-on.â
Jaheira clapped him on the shoulder. âGood. Now go before you sprout wings or something ridiculous.â
Halsin found you sitting by the campfire, a jar of honey and a piece of bread in your hands. The firelight danced across your features, and Halsin felt his heart thrum painfully in his chest.
âIs everything okay, Halsin?â you asked, looking up at him with a concerned smile.
Halsin cleared his throat, forcing himself to remain steady. âYes, I⌠there is something I need to tell you.â
You tilted your head, some honey glistening on your lips. âOf course. What is it?â
And that was it. The sight of your lips, the gentle curve of your expressionâit was too much. Despite every ounce of willpower he had summoned, Halsinâs body betrayed him. With a flash of light and a muffled groan, he was suddenly a massive brown bear, sitting heavily on the ground.
You blinked, staring at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. âHalsin! You did it again!â
From across the camp, Jaheira let out a long, exasperated groan, throwing her hands up. âI give up!â she muttered, stalking off.
The bear lowered its massive head, letting out a low huff of frustration. You reached over and gently placed a hand on his fur.
âItâs okay, big guy,â you said, grinning. âYouâll figure it out eventually.â
If Halsin could have blushed, he would have. Instead, he let you pet him, resigning himself to the fact that his feelings were much harder to control than heâd ever anticipated.
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
This was so so so so so much fun to write !! Especially Gale's icl hehehe. Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#minthara x reader#minthara x tav#astarion#baldur's gate 3#karlach#wyll ravengard x reader#wyll x reader#bg3 wyll#wyll x tav#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart#shadowheart x reader#lae'zel x tav#lae'zel#lae'zel x reader#halsin x reader#halsin#karlach x tav#karlach x reader#bg3 karlach#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale dekarios x reader#jaheira x reader#jaheira x tav#bg3 imagines
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#just#jaidenâs opening speech#and the harmonica and kazoo in the jail#and the tik tok edits#and the vinebooms#and leonarda presenting evidence regarding foolish and mariana#and maximus absolutely killing it as judge#and charlieâs case falling apart due to philza minecraft#and jaiden and roier being the best family on the server no question#and fit bribing the judge with netheride ingots#and bad insisting on saving all the eggs even if it meant being late to the trial#even though no one else seemed too concerned#and foolish interrupting the trial because roier was speaking too fast for the translator to keep up#and the tnt under the courtroom#and the COLDPLAY#and and and#i could go on forever#i need to watch more vods#i think charlie has had more playtime on qsmp in 3 weeks than he did on his whole time on d///smp#thereâs#so#much#qsmp spoilers#maybe i formulate this into a nicer post later
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Ithadel listened silently to the interplay, dark eyes watchful and brow creased into a faint, concerned frown. Â
He resisted the urge to point out that exposure to cold weather didnât cause colds, at least not in that way; resisted, too, the urge to reach out and press the back of his fingers to Tesniâs forehead. She did sound faintly hoarse, now. If he were in his true form, even his dysfunctional excuse for life-sense would make the gesture more useful to him than to any human.Â
But it would be inappropriate in these circumstances, useless with his human guise active, and a pointless exercise in any case. Whether Tesni were just tired or truly ill, rest and warmth were the best things for her.Â
As for her living situationâŚÂ Meredithâs concern was catching, particularly with Tesniâs clear tension and unease. But if Tesniâs parents were as absentee as it sounded like they might be, then once again it wasnât anything that could be resolved immediately. Tesni was safe tonight, among people who clearly cared for her. Ithadel resolved to keep an eye out as well as he could, both on her health tonight and for signs of trouble in the future, but⌠for now, there wasnât much else to be done.
Ithadel drew a breath and straightened as Meredith addressed him. âAh. That⌠yes. Thank you. Iâm â sorry to intrude, but⌠Iâm grateful for your hospitality. Thereâs nothing to apologize for.â He noted with faint surprise that she was right. Even his cotton jeans were dry. He kept losing time, and it seemed to be adding up more quickly than heâd realized. Â
Changing could wait, though, even if he was already missing the warmth of the blanket heâd discarded. If he was lucky, the pins and needles plaguing his arm might die down with a bit more time. With a final searching glance at Tesni, Ithadel finally stepped away and made his way to the table.
It was a relief to sit again. He set aside the tea, selected a tuna sandwich, and tore off a piece of crust to nibble on in the hopes that starting slow would convince his stomach that eating was an acceptable proposition after all.Â
âI can only imagine the work a storm adds.â He nodded briefly towards the ceiling. âIs the beacon a flame, then? Or does it have its own generator?â One way or another, it was surely designed to weather storms, and as far as he could remember Meredith hadnât rushed off to tend it when the power had failed.
It was a kind question, and Tesni couldnât dodge it entirely. She blinked the bleariness from her vision and offered Ithadel a soft smile. âTired.â An honest answer, even if it wasnât the whole truth. Her mouth had gone dry, her throat scratchy, and soreness had threaded itself through her muscles. A cold hollowness ached in her stomach as well.
Her tiredness consumed most of her attention, though, which could prove troublesome since she needed to stay awake long enough to sneak back to the sea once everyone else had drifted off to sleep. She couldnât afford to fall asleep herself.
Meredith, who couldnât help overhearing, frowned in concern and rested a half-eaten jam sandwich back on her plate. âHope you didnât catch a cold from being out in that nasty storm. I could make you some soup instead, or a fresh mug of tea, orâŚ?â Her voice trailed off as Tesni shook her head. The lightkeeper faltered before she went on, more tentative. âYour, ah, parents⌠are they home? Or⌠traveling again?â
This was an excuse Tesni had given the last time Meredith had asked about her parentsâ whereabouts. It still weighed heavily in the selkieâs throat. She swallowed and nodded. âTraveling again.â
Meredith hummed, her brow creased. âAh, alright. Just⌠didnât want them to worry.â She glanced at Megan, as though trying to communicate something unspoken, but Megan was absorbed in tracing her finger along a pattern in the countertop as she chewed another bite of sandwich. Meredith sighed and focused on Tesni again. âYou can sleep in Meganâs room tonight, upstairs. Weâve got another mattress and blankets. And you can borrow some clothes from me for pajamas while I clean the blood from your lovely dress. Megan can fetch those for you as well when she brings you upstairs.â
Tesni tensed instantly. Deep-rooted instincts begged the selkie to refuse, to hold onto her dress as though it were her life itself (it was, in a way). The stains didnât bother her; they didnât need cleaning. The blood would wash away as soon as she returned to the sea and the dress melted back into seal skin.
But⌠Tesni knew Meredith meant no harm. She was being kind. If Tesni refused her offer, it would seem ungrateful, and it might confuse the Cadigans, and she might lose their trust. And if she waited any longer to reply, they might question her, andâ
âOkay,â murmured Tesni.
Meredith smiled. âHopefully youâll be feeling right as rain by tomorrow.â Turning to Ithadel, she continued. âFor you, weâve got a spare bedroom over there.â She nodded toward a closed door in the hearth room. âWe keep spare clothing on hand for anyone who needs it. Thereâs some in the drawers in there that might fit you, if youâd like. Your clothing ought to be dry now, but it might still feel nice to get something a bit warmer on.â Her smile turned apologetic. âSorry I didnât offer sooner. Always get a bit mixed up in storms. So much work to be done, you know.â
#thread: you look cold#hearthtales#(no worries at all! I am... even slower at the moment myself ahaha. Thank you for your own patience in turn <3)#(ahhhhh gotta love the dramatic irony. Meredith is trying v hard to be helpful; if only she knew...)#(ffff poor Tesni though. Losing her pelt is the LAST thing she needs right now!)#(on a different front Iâve been weighing what will be the tipping point in my head. I donât think weâre anywhere near there yet?)#(but Ithadel has almost certainly worked with selkies at least a time or two before unless theyâre vanishingly rare in your setting)#(and if he gets a close enough look at her dress + puts various observations together heâll probably eventually draw the right conclusions)#(on the other hand there have been distractions galore; they havenât actually been interacting that long and most things have been subtle;)#(And Ithadel certainly isnât thinking at the top of his game right now xD)#Ithadel#Meredith#Tesni#Megan#Delwyn#rp
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ngl i think i kind of was a genius for being like 'yeah this character is a scary killyou cannibal scary killer who scary kills you' and then realizing that the way my worldbuilding works out is that there's a nonzero chance that if you leave literally any body parts over they can just come back, depending on what they believe in their heart of hearts can kill them. Of course she'd start eating her kills. She probably tried normal stuff first and then realized it didn't work and she had to try harder if she wanted to actually keep them dead.
#red rambles#im working on a character who i made up years and years ago and wasnt even happy with then because he didnt seem to have enough like#interior thoughts he was just like a guy who killed people when he was stressed and his life was constantly stressful and then he killed on#person too many and they were like 'this is fucking untenable and he has to die' and then they killed him#which is soooooooooo absolutely nothing honestly. Like it works as a barebones summary but i want to stress there was actually straight up#nothing else there. the entire rest of his whole whatnot was just being entangled with Haven who is a different character who at the time#ALSO felt unsatisfyingly lacking in interiority but at lesat he had really complex motivations and action flowcharts. that werent just 'i#get grumpy and i just go kill some random person with no regard for what the consequences will be and then i am so mean and i kill you'#now theres a lot more happening. i really didnt. like.#okay so i had a Backstory worked out but it was vague because i didnt know what the fuck he WANTEDDDDDDD right like. i had no motivations a#literally all except 'oohhh i kill people ooohhh i like killing people ooohhh im erratic i kill people' and the background i HAD was like.#Upper class scion of some rich family whose family honest to god just did not like him very much and also [gestures vaguely] i guess he#maybe kicked dogs or something and then he ??nebulous timeline meets haven and then kills his sister or kills his sister and very quickly#thereafter meets haven but i usually lean toward the former because haven LOVES convincing people to kill their whole families its like#cathartic for him because he would love to kill his entire family but physically cannot do it. but like kind of the implications of this#as far as i was concerned given this is set in the mid 1800s was like. ehhh he's getting away with this because he's rich white and male an#it pays to turn a blind eye to his indiscretions or w/e. a genderswap means that she'd be subject to a lot more scrutiny on basis of like#misogyny. LOL. and i already had the preexisting 'hates half sibling' (i genderswapped the sister into a brother because why not) and 'hate#parents' and 'parents strongly dislike her' and 'unsettling' and it worked nicely to start giving me actual fucking. Literally anything to#work with there. because it means that by going off with Haven she walks out of one situation where she has like 0 agency into another one#and like to be clear i respect anyone who is sitting around in haven's general vicinity for snapping and just starting to kill people. me t#but this works. SOOOOOOOOOO much better for real#im still working the kinks out but like also this means that she wins. she wins like multiple times actually. she comes closer to killing#haven than anyone since he learned what fucking species he was and causes him more trouble in the interest of getting the FUCK out of there#than anyone else has and then she fucking gets what she was going for against literally every effort haven could've made over ~five decades#get owned loser.#every time i draw her i cant help it i write some shit like PLEASE JUST GET DIVORCED on it even though i wrote the fucking narrative i know#it will never fucking happen and thats why she does all this shit instead#in another world she'd be like the wildly capable owner of Raytheon 2 or some other shit like that. like she'd never be a nice or good#person but she wouldn't be dead. god she could be in charge of a country or some shit. Alas. Please get divorced.
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Okay, but... even with the fingerprints on the gun, there should have been more questions. Why shoot herself in the stomach for a slow and probably painful death? Some kind of gun version of harakiri? There were two witnesses who saw her collapse, and even if she immediately tossed aside her gun after shooting herself, it still took a while for her to fall.
Like, I can understand if Shinichi didn't want to divulge all the information about her being connected to an organization that killed her. He thinks the BO is his enemy to deal with and all that. But the conclusion makes it sound like he never mentioned any of her words aside from where she'd put the money, and I also don't think it's sit well with him to just. Let everyone think she killed herself.
#ch 16#vol 2#'One day I'll bring down those men in black' boy you could have at least said someone else killed her#There'd be no evidence to find out who; as far as the story is concerned; but you are a credible witness!#You could have at least not let them draw the wrong conclusions about her death#(Though if if they're assuming that she killed herself as penance for her crime)#(Then I guess he may not mind the narrative that she was making things right by returning the money they all stole)#(But outside of Haibara; it's really odd that this case /doesn't/ seem to bother him too much when so much is wrong)#(Maybe it's because; even if she's gone; he considers Akemi's case still 'open' because it's part of taking down the BO?)
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I've been thinking about Laios' succubus lately. Mulling it over a bit.
Because I've seen these pages brought up a fair bit, but almost entirely in the context of shipping (on all sides, really). And I really want to understand what they are doing for the story beyond that.
When I went back to reread the scene and section, a few things caught my interest: the way Laios responds to both forms of his succubus, the themes of the volume the chapter is found in, and the other events of the chapter itself.
So let's dive into those three things, and what I think they say about the succubus scene's purpose.
Laios is never fully frozen by the succubus
So. If you compare Marcille and Chilchuck's reactions...
to Laios':
-
There is a difference. Sure, the basics may look the same once it turns into Scylla Marcille, but even then, it functions differently.
Chilchuck and Marcille are completely frozen once they catch sight of their succubus. Izutsumi, as well, isn't able to look away, and completely freezes up once her 'mom' starts talking to her. As Chilchuck describes, "just looking at them makes you unable to move."
And yet, Scylla Marcille has to actively convince Laios to comply. He even looks away from her at one point!
Laios accepts this succubus, but he is never actually helpless to it in the same way. Taken in? Convinced? Sure, at least enough to let things happen that he probably should question more than he does. But magically compelled? Not really. Not the same way as everyone else is. So that's interesting. But let's move on for now.
2. Volume 9 is all about drive and desire
I don't often look at chapters within the context of the volume they are included in, but I think there's some really fun things to be found with that perspective in mind.
For one, volume 9 starts with an exploration of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
And ends with a question of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
It's also very concerned in general with questions of why people do what they do. Why they are in the dungeon, why they are with the people they are with, why they stay, what they fight for.
In addition to Laios, we see it with Marcille...
Izutsumi
Kabru
and Mithrun
Hell, we even get it for the demon!
It's certainly not the only volume concerned with desires and motives, but it is particularly focused on these ideas.
The succubus scene fits quite well into the ongoing question about desires, especially Laios' desires. It is even placed at an interesting spot within the volume. The volume is six chapters long, and the scene takes place at the start of the 4th chapter. It's almost smack-dab in the middle.
With all this in mind, it is interesting that, with both versions of the succubus Marcille, it's not totally clear which parts of her Laios is rejecting.
The first version of Marcille looks human, but Laios attacks when he identifies her as a monster. The second Marcille looks like a monster, but he seems to believe that she is the real (human)(ish) person that he knows. So is he rejecting the monster at first, and then accepting the person? Or is he rejecting humanity and only interested in the monstrous?
Something to consider as we look at the next point...
3. the rest of the chapter is a seduction, too
This is one of those things that might not be apparent on a first reading, but is crystal clear on a revisit. We see the succubus try and charm Laios over 7 pages, and then see the Winged Lion do the same thing for the next 19.
Much like the succubus, it offers the mingling of monsters and humans. Much like the succubus, it offers belonging.
(and this is the point where I absolutely must also link this post by fumifooms on the succubus, which has some great ideas on how the scene is informed by Laios' trauma and desire for acceptance!!!)
But, back to the point. The Winged Lion wants to feed on Laios just as much as the succubus did, and it uses similar strategies to try and make that happen. Though this chapter isn't really the turning point for the next Lord of the Dungeon (it is Marcille who will, eventually, become the Lion's next victim), it certainly behaves like it is.
Laios is convinced. The succubus gets its meal. By the end of the volume, the reader begins to understand how concerning his desires are. Together, it is all very good at building up that sense of dread and pending disaster, as we see exactly how and why Laios might just fall into the Lion's open arms and bring about the end of the world.
-
So that's the three things I noticed. But there's still something I want to touch on by looking at the way these observations overlap, and what they reveal, together.
As I said, by the end of the volume, you can feel the tension growing. Just as Kabru and Mithrun do, you look back for an answer to the questions that have been built, chapter by chapter: why is Laios here? Where will his loyalties fall? This chapter, and scene, seem to prove the inevitable truth: he will choose the monster, of course. He will choose the seductive, easy power of the Winged Lion.
But the details of what actually happens tell different story: one in which the Lion is wrong.
First, as a reminder - even in Scylla Marcille mode, the succubus never fully entrances Laios. It convinces him, but it doesn't have him completely under its thrall.
Similarly, in the dream, the Lion does convince Laios to embrace the world he is offering. But even within that dream, Laios continues to ask questions that will be vital to him later. It is because of those questions that Laios comes to a new understanding about Thistle.
And it's this realization that he cites later as part of his reason for refusing the Lion's offer.
He is thinking through things the entire time, just like he continues to question the succubus even after it turns into Scylla Marcille.
Laios also expresses an interesting reason for why he wants to see the future of this world. He's not just invested because it would mean people liking what he likes, or him getting to spend time with monsters. The thought that comes immediately before his acceptance is about what he wants for monsters and people.
I don't think it's a coincidence that this statement - "we're living beings that share the same world, but all we can do is keep killing each other" - can apply to the various humans races just as much as it does to humans and monsters. The thing he is thinking about here isn't just a matter of his personal daydreams. It's an idea that underpins every conflict in the story.
Laios caring about how people as well as monsters in this manner is something that the Lion gets wrong every time. Even at the end, he still frames Laios' desires entirely around hating people and loving monsters.
The Lion has heard him express an opinion about the future of the world! It happened right there in the dream, right in front of him! He just didn't take it seriously, and didn't view it through any lens other than "Laios likes monsters more".
He's convinced that he understands how to get to Laios. Maybe the Lion can't truly see everything, or maybe his vision into everyone's deepest desires has made it hard for him to realize how much choice still matters. That people can, and do, choose which desires to act on, and how to act on them.
Whatever the case, he's wrong about Laios, and the story shows us this over and over again.
After all, look at how the succubus interaction plays out:
A monster uses Marcille to appeal to Laios...
He realizes that something about the situation is wrong, and rejects her.
It changes strategies, and makes new offer: to turn him into a monster.
It also assures him that his friends are, or will be, taken care of.
He accepts. Or rather, allows the monster to have its way with him.
But Laios is not as helpless as he initially appears, and what the Lion thinks is a successful seduction also contains the seed of an idea that will allow Laios to later resist him.
We even get to see Izutsumi playing a similar role in both instances, as the one person fully able to take action in the face to the illusion.
The story lays out what is going happen, and then explicitly tells us that the demon and the succubus are thematically related.
The chapter performs a great sleight of hand here - everything about it seems to indicate that Laios is doomed give in to the option to have his deepest desires realized. But if you look closer, it also contains the evidence that he won't. There's a lot more going on for him.
Yes, he still falls for obvious tricks. He is still extremely into monsters, and he still doesn't feel like he fits in with other people. He may, deep down, crave to surrender to the monstrous - to let it absorb him. But he questions more than he seems to. He considers more than people realize. He cares so much more than anyone gives him credit for.
And I think this is part of why we see the succubus called back to so many times, especially with the wolf head addition to his Monster Form, which he specifically added due to his encounter with the Scylla Marcille.
This all stays with Laios. It doesn't just foreshadow the path of the story, it is fundamental to how and why he walks that path. It's not about him choosing monsters, and it's not about him choosing people. It's about how he considers both, and cares about both.
And it's about the forces that think they already know his answer. Mithrun and Kabru. The Winged Lion. The succubus.
It's about how they are wrong.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi spoilers#laios touden#winged lion#dunmeshi analysis
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^w^
Letâs get to it shall we?
So, I have studied the drawing for a bit and ended up coming up with around six relevant things that are probably symbolism
First is the mirror- it is cracked though it mostly is intact, the cracks all originate from the same point in LBMâs reflection: their eye. Mirrors tend to be good for identity symbolism, showing a characterâs reflection and all, so thinking about it like that and seeing the state this mirror is at we could come to the conclusion that it probably means LBM has identity issues. This will come back later
Next is the fact LBM is making a gesture of shooting herself, which kinda makes me concerned for his mental health tbh. I see this as potentially symbolizing LBM not liking themselves or at least holding some sort of grudge towards himself. Or maybe itâs meant to be like the past them is dead or something, idk
Next is the fact the mirror is cracked over the eye it never opens, which Iâm starting to think is actually missing. Now, I donât know how you differentiate your Bloodmoons but I have seen others and myself use the âtwo eyes-two twinsâ method, so like one twin has one eye and the other the other, and if you do this as well then the implication here is that one of the twins is dead. Which I think is true actually because of the drawing you dropped when I asked you for lore the other day (which I saw but forgot to reblog :()
Next is something Iâm not too confident on and am purely adding âcuz I think itâs funny. So the yellow stains yes? They seem to be magic of some sort, though their most notable feature is that theyâre yellow, and according to the Bibble yellow is the color of betrayal. And deceit and illness in the negative side too I guess. Feel free to disregard this one :P
Next I want to turn to the background on the reflection. Itâs all destroyed and thereâs magic flying and stuff, which probably means LBM is in a really dilapidated place, or she lost her temper, or Iâm overthinking, idk Iâm not good at catching thematic symbolism
Next letâs look at the Lordâs expression. Vacant. Empty. Iâd say maybe even melancholic. This just strengthens my conviction of one of the twins being dead yâknow?
And finally, what I asked about before, the flowers. Red Anemone Flowers have a plethora of meanings, as is standard for a lot of flowers, and thanks to your answer from a bit ago I could narrow the potential meaning a bit. First the slightly more unlikely one, emotional attachment and fragility, two of the Anemoneâs meanings in Japan, tied to what we saw before and the fact a mirrorâ aka a very fragile thing âis in the scene we could get a somewhat emotional view at LBMâs state, seemingly missing someone who they cared for deeply. Then we have one Iâm almost 100% certain you intended for, death and loss of a loved one, it just fits so well with everything else, LBM, the bloody god, thinking back on his past and mourning the (potential) loss of their twin, holding resentment towards themselves for it and the environment showing that. And lastly the thing you 100% intended for, the blood of Christ, I mean, I mean, câmon almost all the art youâve made for this guy has heavy religious tones, why wouldnât you use the flower that represents The Christâs death?
So, putting this all together, I think I can string together the lore thatâs being implied here:
Lord Bloodmoonâs twin is dead, they mightâve died on their own terms or the Lord mightâve been involved someway, who knows, what matters is they are dead. And Lord BM, not being very fond of emotions but anger, doesnât tend to show how much it affects him, mostly turning all the emotions into itself, maybe even having the feelings grow into self loathing stemming from guilt? It affects her, badly.
So yeah thatâs my reading
I Am so sorry if I got it all wrong :(
Tbh Iâm not very good at symbolism; foreshadowing and implications of the past and characterization are a lot more fun to play with for me personally, and I kinda sucked a lot at catching symbolism in school assignments, so if I got everything terribly wrong I apologize
Requests?!
Lord Bloodmoon Lore
Or uh, Lord Bloodmoon as a stained glass window? Anything Lord Bloodmoon
Or canon BM in a field of flowers I guess
Or your main in Dandyâs World?
pew pew
1/4
plus these goobers
i main Rodger and Finn (Rodger for public runs and Finn for solo ones)
i like extracting a lot, so i like Rodger a lot! in the future id probably end up being a Vee player tbh,,
Finn is just fun because hes fast LOL. dont think i could play as him in a multiplayer lobby because i tend to get a bit.... reckless with him pfft
2/4
#perhaps it is.... if you want it to be >:3c#<<< it was#god I hope I didnât mess up to bad#sorry if I did
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â đ đđđđ đđđđ đđ đ
đđđ đđđ đđđđđ ! â
â I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! â
⧠pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader
⧠summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).
⧠warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks
⧠wc: 8,180
Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror â cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxersâ
This was a curse â literally.Â
Curses were made up of different negative human emotions â from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so â but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses heâs swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste â a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didnât come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions â at least for most of them.Â
The one he had swallowed today was different â he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building â from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place â assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents.Â
But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with â a grotesque creature that stared back at him â its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didnât care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most â its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him.Â
It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight â far too easy â and it seemed to watch him summon curses â and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow.Â
He had kept the curse on hand â he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash â though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early â Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but youâÂ
He wasnât sure what you were doing, but he wasnât sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said.Â
âWhen are you guys gonna fuck already?â the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite â strong in ability, but not in tact, âyou and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to KyotoââÂ
âThat was years agoââÂ
âShe has a key to your apartmentââÂ
âSo do you!â he glares.Â
âThen what about last night at the bar?â Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, âyou could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone â and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,âÂ
If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend â infinity be damned, âShe looked uncomfortable, what was I going to doââÂ
âWell, she certainly didnât look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?â He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, âwhat are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? Youâre telling me youâre not gonna regret it, Suguru?â Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoruâs gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, âYou guys just got to hurry up and fuck,âÂ
Suguru swats the crushed can away, âYouâre disgusting,âÂ
He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, âDisgusting, but correct, and if Iâm right, youâre taking some of my missions off my hands,â he grins.Â
And Satoruâs words had been running around in Suguruâs head â just like any annoying song on the radio â but he couldnât let Satoruâs words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again â he couldnât lose you, not again.Â
Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout?Â
You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about?Â
He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time.Â
You: Letâs keep it that way! :)Â
He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place â you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table.Â
And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again.Â
Satoru was right â and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else â you always waited for him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else â even from Satoru. You wouldnât leave him alone, you wouldnât stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything.Â
Until he did â one late night you spent up together â he didnât sleep much those days anyway. And he told you everything â the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadnât wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasnât yourself â it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night.Â
âYou donât always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. Youâre allowed to be upset, youâre allowed to be angry, youâre allowed to grieve â but donât bottle it up,â your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, âdonât let it kill you from the inside out,âÂ
âI feel like I did die â along with Amanai,â and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched.Â
âThere, youâre definitely not dead,â you say, âso donât act like you are. And donât act like youâre alone â because youâre not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko â even Nanami andââ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara â âHaibara wouldnât want you to hide from us, he looked up to you â more than anyone else, even Satoru,âÂ
âI donât know why,â he mutters with a sigh.Â
âI do,â your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, âbecause youâre kind, youâre intelligent, and youâre strong,âÂ
He scoffs, âSatoru is the strongest,âÂ
âAnd you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? Youâre the only person who can understand him â and heâs the only one who understands you,âÂ
He gives a small chuckle, ânot the only one,â and he tears his eyes away, hoping you donât see the way his cheeks burned.Â
And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up â you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him.Â
You saved them together â Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back â without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) â and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Getoâs care, and your own.Â
At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left â and you were the only one of your class left â and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didnât show it.Â
âIâm leaving for Kyoto,â you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, âthis place holds too many memories â i need perspective, I need space from all of this,âÂ
He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay â ask if he wasnât enough to make you stay. But he doesnât, because itâs the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, âYouâll come to visit right?âÂ
He knows youâre blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch.Â
But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult â for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively â but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance.Â
But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over â Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukunaâs vessel â and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed â your days off spent in his apartment â as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldnât help but wonder â when heâd glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on â if the special grades were the only reason youâd come back. Your fingers were so close to each otherâs on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine.Â
One he couldnât dare to cross.Â
But It was fine, just as he told Satoru â you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen â no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadnât.Â
Until he decided to consume the curse â and his heart was no longer the problem.Â
Or at least, not his main problem.Â
He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants â only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet â as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses â he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out.Â
He holds the balled curse in his palm â he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy â the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp â though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut.Â
ItâŚwasnât as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm â it was still appalling to consume, but it wasâŚ.sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded.Â
That should have been his first clue.Â
Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water â was it even cold?Â
Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning â a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you.Â
âŚ.what? He tried to shake that thought from his head â it wasnât the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training â your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk metâ
This wasnât helping.Â
The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on.Â
Fuck.Â
No, he couldnât.Â
But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand.Â
He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty youâd look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit.Â
âSuguru, pleaseââÂ
âTell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,â heâd murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.Â
âNeed your cock â need you to fuck me,â you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does.Â
Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And heâd fuck you hard, just like heâs fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass.Â
Youâd cum before he would, he would make sure of it â one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now.Â
He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold.Â
He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard â the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it.Â
What the fuck is going on?Â
He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately â every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him.Â
He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you â of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your pantiesâÂ
He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror â skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need â he was so fucked.Â
He called Shoko â the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings â finally five rings and she picks up.Â
âItâs not like you to callââÂ
âI need your help,â he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way â âI donât know whatâs happening to me,âÂ
Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, âSlow down, Suguru, tell me whatâs going on,â and he tells her his symptoms â and sheâs silent on the other line for a moment, âyou have been a teenage boy before right? Youâre not really calling me because youâre horny and you donât know what to doââÂ
âItâs not thatââ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, âI already triedâŚsolving the problem myself but it didnât work. And I feel weird â it only made it worse. I canât stop sweating or thinking aboutââ he cuts off â he couldnât stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how youâd look when heâ âwhat is this, Shoko?âÂ
She pauses on the line for a moment, âWhen did it start?âÂ
âRight before my shower I think,â his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought.Â
âAnd what did you do before your shower? Anything different?â heâs swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on.Â
Heâs barely hearing Shoko at this point â âI took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then Iââ and the realization struck him â the curse, âI consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,â he mutters, âfuckââÂ
And then thereâs a knock at the door, âSuguru?â He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice.Â
Shokoâs voice cuts through the white noise, âSuguru, the curse you ate â was there something different about it?âÂ
âIt was a grade one â it seemed a little too easy to defeat â it formed inââ he swallows thickly, âin a brothel,âÂ
âIâve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,â she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, âyou could try extracting the curse from your body â I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass â just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,âÂ
His phone buzzed with texts from you:Â
You: Iâm outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me!Â
You: are you home?Â
His mind swam, it wasnât the takeout he was craving â it was you. But no, no â he couldnât. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it.Â
âI donât know, how do I get it to pass?â he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice â why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet â his boxers grow even tighter â bet you even taste even sweeter.Â
âIf dealing with it yourself didnât work, then,â she sighs, âyouâre going to need a partner,âÂ
Another knock.Â
âShoko, I have to go,â and he hangs up before she can get another word â a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight.Â
âSuguru?â youâre so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, âare you okay?âÂ
He says your name, âYou should go home, Iâm not feeling wellââÂ
âWhatâs wrong? Do you need help?â And heâs biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, âlet me in,âÂ
âI canâtâI canât let you help with this,â heâs shaking his head, âplease, sweetheart, you have to goââ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door â fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe.Â
Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers.Â
âSuguruââÂ
âYou should leave â I canât explain, thereâs a curse inside meââÂ
Your eyebrows knit together, âSuguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?â And heâs shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, âlet me helpââÂ
âYou canât help. I have to get out of my system but the only way isââ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you.Â
âThere must be somethingââ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes offâ âI want to helpââÂ
Heâs tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear â fuck.Â
He was so fucked.Â
He canât hold back, as heâs drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more â but he forced every muscle in his body to stop. He couldnât. Not until you agreed.Â
âIf you donât want me to fuck you right now,â he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, âI want you â regardless of this, Iâve wanted you for so long,â the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, âbut if you donât feel the sameââÂ
But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, âwho said I didnât?âÂ
And he canât hold back.Â
His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt.Â
And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then â and his mind hadnât even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you â the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips.Â
âSo pliant for me,â he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, âsuch a good fucking girl, arenât you?âÂ
And youâre nodding wordlessly â lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips â and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse.Â
âKnow how long I wanted to do this?â words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck â he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter â âhow many times I thought about this?â He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, âwanted to mark you up so many times â when that fucker tried to hit on you â I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,â and heâs sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork.Â
You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, âSugu, please, more,â and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body.Â
âNeed my touch that much, Princess? Shouldâve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that youâre mine,â And heâs walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides.Â
Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first â been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you â but he only had one time to do it right the first time.Â
Heâs walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off â and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath.Â
âWere you always coming to my place with no bra on?â his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, âwanted this as long as I did, Princess? Donât get so shy now â youâre the one who insisted on helping me, so arenât you going to fulfill your promise?â His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.Â
You shiver, biting your lip, before youâre tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, âThen let me help you,â
When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, heâs ready to cum right there â heâs so sensitive still, heâs sure he wonât last long, but fuck, he doesnât care with how pretty you look between his legs.Â
âDonât be a tease, Princess, or Iâll pay you back later,â but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.
âOh I expect you to,â and youâre pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, âfuck, Sugu,â you murmur in almost reverence â he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, âhow am I gonna fit you all in me?âÂ
And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, âPlease,â he swallows, adamâs apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, âfuckââ as you blow air along his length, âIâll cum all over your face at this rate,âÂ
âOh I think youâd like that, wouldnât you, Sugu?â your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, âpaint my face with your cum,âÂ
And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in â thatâs all it takes.Â
The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt.Â
Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, âTaste so good, Sugu â gotta have you one more timeââ you envelop him with your lips again â and heâs a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever canât fit in your mouth.Â
âSâgood baby, shouldâve fucked this mouth a long time ago,â and heâs gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you donât resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, âgood fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,â and god, heâs so close â twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts.Â
Fuck, heâs pulling out, âcan Iââ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again â his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again.Â
And heâs pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them.Â
In an instant, heâs got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, âwhereâs that attitude now, pretty?â And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, âseems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,âÂ
Heâs slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, âfor later use,â and you canât managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, âmine, all mine,â heâs already hard again â the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin â the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you â god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldnât seem to care.Â
You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, âSo fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?â he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, âpatience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure youâre ready for me,â his dick twitching at his next sentence, âbecause I sink my cock in here, weâre not stopping at one round,âÂ
Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds.Â
âSugu, fuck,â his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan.Â
âFucking, the best thing Iâve tasted,â and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, âso perfect fâme,â and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches.Â
He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, youâre too fucking pretty â your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes â pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him.Â
Fuck, he knows he wonât last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and heâs sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock â but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now.Â
No, he needed to make this good for you â he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch â you liked it.Â
Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower â as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides â the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows heâs addicted â to the feeling of your molasses insides â warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart.Â
âSugu, please, please âm closeâ,â and he knows you need a little more, and heâs obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and heâs fucking you in earnest now â lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers â walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do.Â
As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit â that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers.Â
Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing heâd crave now after consuming curses â he wondered if youâd let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate â he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would.Â
Heâs giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but youâre pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure.Â
âWant you, Sugu, please,â and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, âSuguââÂ
âWonât last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,â the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, âbut I know it wonât be long until Iâm fucking you again anyway,â Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, âfeels like youâre already trying to swallow me up, princess â you want this cock that bad?â fuck, he canât hold back anymore, as heâs lining up himself up, and heâs sliding right into you with a groan, âknow how long been waiting to do that?â his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, âwanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right â when nothing about this was right,â he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, âwish our first time wasnât like this â but Iâm so glad itâs finally happened, sweetheart,âÂ
And you canât help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, âMe too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed youââ and heâs kissing your tears and words away with his lips,Â
Then he begins to fuck you â hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him â warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock â the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need â he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside â he just needed you.Â
âSâbig, Sugu, too big,â you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips â sucking and licking, as he couldnât have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, âfeels too good,âÂ
âI know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good â make sure its made just for me,â heâs murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, âall mine, baby, fuck â such a good girl for me,â and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him youâre all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, âcum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,âÂ
And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again â fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. Heâs fucking close too â can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, âwhereââÂ
Youâre still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, âInside, Sugu, fill me up,â and thatâs it, heâs gone â spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you â deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And youâre twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt.Â
But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguruâs hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, âSuguruââÂ
âWasnât enough, need more,â heâs shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, âthought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel itââ and heâs groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, âbabyââÂ
And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, âI told Iâd help you,â and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, âjust because we fucked, doesnât mean weâre done,âÂ
And in a moment, heâs got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, âThen I guess weâre gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if youâre okay with this â I donât think Iâll be satisfied with just a blowjob,â his tip drags against your messy cunt, âgonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,â and heâs sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, âbetter cancel any plans you have, pretty â because weâre not leaving this bed for a while.âÂ
âDonât fall asleep on me, baby,â his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, âalmost gonna cum, and donât want you to be asleep for it,âÂ
How many times had you fucked? You had lost count â but you knew you had done it in far too many positions â on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others â and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you.Â
He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible â and you supposed it wasnât â it was only the curse that enabled this â it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water.Â
âGood girl,â heâs grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, âIâm close baby, are you?â You hadnât thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was â his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, âtell me you wanna cum,â and your pussy twitches at his order, âuse your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?âÂ
âPlease, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,â and youâre so fucking close again â the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment.Â
âFuck, greedy pussy hasnât enough of me? Weâve been fucking until the daylight now,â as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and heâs making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick â your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, âfuck, sâgood for me, baby â been so good â just need one more and we can stop,â and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of youâÂ
And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you.Â
âThank you, princess, thank you,â and youâre burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, âdid so good for me,â and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little.Â
Youâre already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he canât help but bite his lip, âSugu?âÂ
âYes, princess?â And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, âknow it was rough on you baby, Iâll make it up to you â donât worry, just rest,â he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water.Â
âI know you want to ask me something,â and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, âI can see the gears grinding in your head â you can ask me anything, yâknow,â you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didnât you?Â
âI know, I just,â he swallowed, âwas there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?âÂ
And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, âAnything or anyone you mean?â and you chuckle when his eyes canât meet yours, your fingers finding his again, âbaby,â and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, âI did come back for someone â a very particular someone,â and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, âand my friends, of course,â you add, âI love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,âÂ
âYou did?â he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the otherâs, âSugu?â and itâs your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, âcan we do this again?â you murmur, before adding, ânot like this butââÂ
And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, âYes, we can, if you want to â because I know I do, because,â his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, âbut I want all of you â want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soulââ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, âis that okay?âÂ
And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, âAs long I have yours as well,â and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off.Â
âIf heâs fine, and Iâm checking on him, Iâm kicking his ass,â Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys.Â
Shoko chewed her lip, she hadnât heard from him in hours, âHe was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,â Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.Â
âYeah, on my way home back from a mission,â he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguruâs spare key into the lock and turning it, âIf I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,âÂ
He twists the knob, and looks â he doesnât see Suguru in the living room or kitchen â but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if sheâs heard from you, to which she says no,Â
He walks silently to Suguruâs bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies.Â
Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera.Â
âNever mind, Shoko, I owe you one,â and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, âIâll treat you to lunch.âÂ
⧠a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing
⧠taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72
#sab [mlist]#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto x reader#geto smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto x you#jjk x you
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ăi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!
part one | part two
đ pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader
đ tags: nsfw, size kink, virgin!reader, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, some mild second-hand embarrassment perhaps, sex toys, edging, failed masturbation attempts, ghost takes your virginity and also maybe ruins you for literally anybody else ever again
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
The ceiling over your head is drab grey and water-stained, the old paint peeling away in strips. Itâs an ugly sight, but you barely see it; youâre too busy trying to catch your breath.
The sheets beneath you are uncomfortably damp with your sweat, but you donât have the energy to roll over just yet. You feel hot and itchy with frustration, and you scowl up at the ceiling above you as your fingers curl into fists. But even though you feel like laying in your now grubby-bedding for the rest of the evening, you canât let yourself wallow. Thereâs going to be a knock on your door any minute, and this is not a position you want to be found in.
With an irritable groan, you haul yourself off the bed and to your feet. Your muscles ache and you feel too warm, but you reach for your clothes anyway. The worn cotton of your shirt feels scratchy against your skin, but maybe thatâs just because youâre still over-sensitive and irritable.
You can never quite bear to look at the aftermath of what youâd been doing, so you avert your eyes as you gather up the bright silicone and plastic devices littering your mattress. Itâs embarrassing now that the adrenaline has worn off and disappointment is beginning to set in, so you end up gathering them all up more roughly than necessary.
The term âtoyâ seems incongruous to you. It sounds too childish, too immature. It makes you sound like a stupid kid, as though you arenât a young adult past twenty fumbling your way through sexual self-exploration. Itâs embarrassing, and much more frustrating than you ever would have predicted â despite all of your clumsy, desperate attempts at pleasuring yourself, youâve never quite managed to reach that peak of pleasure youâve heard other people talking about.
You grumble quietly to yourself as you try to wipe away the sticky lube thatâs still coating your thighs. Your muscles are a little achy from all the tensing youâd been doing trying to come with that stupid vibrator, not even accompanied by the satisfaction you had been hoping for.
Itâs not as though youâve never gotten the opportunity to experiment with others; youâre not unforgivably ugly, you donât think you have a bad personality, and for the past few years youâve been surrounded by military men that certainly arenât known for being picky. And it certainly isnât like you havenât received your fair share of offers.Â
It just never seemed right. Youâre not overly concerned about âsavingâ your virginity or anything like that; itâs just that putting yourself into such a vulnerable position is scary. Youâre aware of the irony, of course, that youâd trust many of these people with saving your ass from catching a bullet in the field, but allowing someone to see you so intimately feels like a step too far.
Youâre still sweaty and flustered and naked when a knock sounds from your door, and you freeze. The doorknob turns, but doesnât open; in that moment, youâre deliriously grateful that you had turned the lock â itâs something that youâve forgotten to do on far too many occasions.
âLass, you in there?â Oh god, itâs Soap.Â
Cursing quietly to yourself, you jolt into action. Your pants are crumpled at the bottom of your bed where you had shed them, and you hurriedly gather them up and struggle your way back into them.
âGimme a minute!â You yell, praying he doesnât notice the somewhat frantic edge to your voice.
You stagger slightly as you worm your way into your pants, and then lunge to grab the stupid dildo youâd just been trying to use. You feel your skin prickle with humiliation as you try to force the stupidly large silicone cock into your already full underwear drawer, jamming it shut roughly to hide it from sight. You donât want to even imagine what Soap might have to say if he were to see what you had been doing; you think you might have to go full deserter mode and abscond into the wilderness.
âDid ye forget about drinks?â Soapâs drawl carries through the thickness of the door. He doesnât sound even slightly put out â if anything, he sounds a little amused.
You pause, close your eyes, sigh. Fuck. You had not, in fact, forgotten about drinks, you just thought you had more time.
âNo, Iâ just a minute!â You yell back, shoving your shoes on and trying to fix your hair.
You had completely lost track of time, and now you donât even have time to rinse your sweat-damp skin off â youâre going to have to sit through drinks with the squad all grimy, like a physical reminder of what you had been up to for the last two hours.
When you finally unlock the door and wrench it open, Soap is standing on the other side tapping a staccato rhythm on his thighs with his open palms. Heâs dressed casually in just blue jeans and a black muscle shirt, and he gives you a look of semi-disbelief.
âWhat the hell were youââ
âGym.â You interrupt, landing on the only explanation you can think of for your sweaty skin and messy hair.
Soap blinks, but apparently decides itâs not worth the effort to continue that line of conversation. He just shrugs, then turns and starts making his way down the hall, slowing his pace for you to catch up.
You exhale; Soap can be like a bloodhound when he suspects thereâs gossip to be had, and youâre relieved to have dodged a round of his relentless questioning. You suppose he can be surprisingly tactful sometimes, and he knows you well enough not to press you. Or, perhaps itâs because you come across as such a non-sexual being that it doesnât even occur to him that there may be another explanation.
Thereâs an unofficial tradition that when the squad is on base, everyone gathers in the sparsely decorated recreation room for drinks and card games on Thursday evenings. It usually makes for an enjoyable night; Gaz and Soap can always be trusted to supply whatever bottles of alcohol theyâve managed to get their grubby little hands on, and itâs always amusing to watch Captain Price get increasingly more irate as Soap pretends not to understand the rules of whatever card game theyâre playing. The whole illicitness of having contraband on base only makes the whole thing more exciting; the COâs on base often turn a blind eye to the activity, so long as itâs kept under control.
But tonight, youâre distracted.
The others had offered a bit of good-natured ribbing when you and Soap had turned up late, but before long youâre all settled in a loose circle on the poorly-stuffed couches in the corner of the room. Gaz has already unstoppered a bottle of bourbon, and is attempting to convince a visibly unimpressed Price to play a game of Kings with them. You curl up on one of the worn-out couches opposite them, watching with a small if slightly stiff smile.
The atmosphere is relaxed and pleasant, almost enough to make you forget about the irritating buzz of unfulfilled arousal under your skin. You shift, trying to keep your movements small, subtle, to avoid the notice of your team. Your denim jeans are nowhere near as comfortable as usual, and you wonder briefly if you should have simply worn your cargo pants just to avoid the harsh friction of the denim.
You sit there feeling⌠unmoored. You fidget, drink your smooth bourbon in sips in an attempt to avoid wincing, and try not to look as obviously out of place as you feel. Itâs been like this, recently. Joining the task force has been an accomplishment for you, a source of immense pride â youâre the youngest member (just narrowly beating Gaz for the title) and a woman to boot, and though the squad has never treated you any differently itâs hard to kick the belief that you have something to prove.Â
You engage in conversations the best you can, but youâre distracted and you know it must be obvious. Your preoccupation gets you a couple of furrowed brows and glances, but there seems to be an unspoken agreement to give you some space.
You donât even realise the extent of your distraction until a big body settles down on the loveseat next to you, and you jolt. True to his name, Ghost had appeared near silently, escaping your notice until he lowers himself down to sit next to you.
And damn, you forget how big he is sometimes. Itâs an average sized loveseat, but the lieutenant takes up over half of it. Heâs obviously being mindful not to consciously crush you, but heâs not being overly cautious when it comes to avoiding touching you. Heâs dressed unusually casually, and his thick, muscled thigh is wrapped in blue denim as it presses carelessly against yours.Â
âYou alright?â He asks, his voice low and smooth as he nudges your knee with one of his big knuckles.
You havenât been a member of the task force for long, but you would know Simon Riley by his hands alone, by the earthy salt-spice in your nose as he leans a little closer to peer at your face. You tilt your head up, unable to stop the small reflexive smile that breaks over your face at the sight of him.
âYeah.â You breathe, hurriedly straightening up where youâre sitting. âYeah, sorry. Just thinking.â
His sudden proximity isnât doing your current state any favours, and you take a quick sip of your drink in an effort to collect yourself. Itâs taking a herculean effort not to stare at the way his biceps are bulging against the straining material of his black cotton t-shirt.
âWhatâre you thinking about?â Ghost asks as he stretches out his legs with a tired groan. The sound is gruff and gravelly, and you feel blood rush uncomfortably to your cheeks.Â
âNothing.â You say quickly.
He doesnât believe you, that much is obvious, but Ghost never pushes and he rarely speaks more than he has to. He just gives you a glance, brief and knowing and far more penetrating than it should be, before turning his head back so he can watch the boys playing their card game. Heâs holding a crystal tumbler filled with dark amber liquid, but he hasnât yet pulled his mask up to drink from it.
Your eyes drop to the thick, pale scars that mar the backs of his hands. You trace the path of the scar tissue, eyes lingering around the thick knuckles and broad palms, the way that he holds the glass so casually confidently. Heâs got nice hands, probably made all the more attractive by the fact that you hardly ever get to see them. Seeing Ghost without his usual long sleeves and gloves makes you feel like a Victorian pervert snatching stolen glances at a passing ladyâs ankles.
A quiet snicker causes your eyes to dart back to his face, and youâre mortified to find that heâs caught you staring.
âWhatâs got you in such a mood?â He asks. Even through the mask you can tell that heâs smirking, though it doesnât feel as though heâs making fun of you.
âJust one of those days, I guess.â You say without meeting his eyes.
Itâs an evasion at best, but Ghost nods ponderously as though heâs giving this great thought. His stare is penetrating, those big brown eyes watching you as though he can see right through you. Maybe he can. You try not to get too caught up staring at his pale eyelashes, darkened by smears of eyeblack.
âDid something happen?â He asks. The question is casual enough, asked as he lazily swirls his whiskey around in his glass, but his gaze is sharp and assessing.
âNo.â You sigh, finally looking properly at him.
Itâs a little frustrating, but the squad has been like this with you from the start â protective. Your whole military career has consisted of you veritably clawing your way up through the ranks, and youâve been surrounded by coarse, gruff men that have underestimated you all your life. 141 is different â they donât baby you, but the way they treat you is unmistakably softer than how they typically treat each other. The concern can be touching, if a little tiring sometimes.
And maybe itâs because heâs your lieutenant, but Ghostâs attention has always been just this side of overwhelming. It feels like youâre pinned beneath his dark eyes, his gaze somehow sharpened as he watches you from beneath his more casual balaclava, the skull pattern printed on his jaw adding another layer of intimidation. But his shoulders are relaxed as he sits next to you on the small couch, settling the weight of his attention over you like a blanket.
Youâve always respected him, admired him. How could you not? Heâs practically a living legend, his reputation larger than life, and heâs scary as fuck. But heâs also softer than you had expected, gentle when he needs to be. He still rides you hard in training, pushing you to your limits and taking no quarter, but you canât begrudge that. Not when you know heâs working to keep you alive. Perhaps thatâs how the attraction had first bloomed; once it started, it was hard to stifle.
Ghost hooks one finger into his balaclava and pulls it up just high enough to expose his mouth, and he presses his glass to his lips to take a sip of his drink. You struggle not to stare like a moron, but he makes it so difficult. His lips are full and pink, and thereâs a rugged scar bisecting his top lip. His stubble is dark blond and short, and it doesnât hide the various scars and marks that decorate his strong jawline.Â
You almost jolt when he pulls the mask back down, hurriedly averting your eyes and forcing yourself to look out across the room. Itâs not just the 141 thatâs decided to take up in the rec room this evening; there are soldiers from other units littered all around the room, laughing and joking, playing lazy games of pool on the table in the corner and smoking. The smoke alarm has been jimmied off the ceiling and the window is open, and even Price is turning a temporary blind eye to the blatant disregard for regulations in favour of puffing on one of his cigars.Â
Ghost shifts on the worn-out fabric of the couch, and lays an arm over the back of the headrest behind you. Itâs a casual, thoughtless movement, but it ends up pushing his body slightly closer to you in a way that makes you feel as though youâre about to catch fire.
You cross your legs, but the seam of your jeans presses into your pussy in a way that sends a frisson of heat up your spine. You hurriedly uncross your legs, and attempt to school your expression into casual neutrality as you force yourself to tune back into the conversation.
ââach, câmon, Captain,â Soap is saying in a wheedling tone that he probably thinks is endearing. âOne round of strip poker wonât kill yaââ
âNo.â Price says in a voice like thunder, brooking no argument as thick cigar smoke pours from his nose. It gives the impression of an enraged bull.
Soap either is ignorant to the warning, or is choosing to wilfully ignore it. Judging by the sly gleam in his eyes, you can guess which. He turns to you then, and waggles his eyebrows.
âCâmon, lassie, youâll play, wonât ya?â He asks with a grin that promises trouble. âI guarantee youâll be a sight better than any oâ these louts.â
âSpeak for yourself,â Gaz pipes up, already grinning. âI was looking forward to seeing the Captain in his jocksââ
Price promptly knocks his drink back, before pushing himself up to his feet with a grim groan. âRight. Thatâs enough of you lot for one night.â
Gaz and Soap break into peals of laughter, settling back into their seats as they watch their captain march away.
âOfferâs still open, love,â Soap says, still snickering when he looks over to you. âWanna play?â
Ghost shifts, his wide thigh knocking into yours as his arm stretches behind your shoulders. He lets out a short exhale through his nose, but when you glance up at him you find him as stoic and hard to read as always.
You just roll your eyes. Itâs not the first time that theyâve tried to rope you into strip poker, and youâre sure it wonât be the last. You can always trust Soap to start stripping his clothes off when heâs three drinks in, whether heâs playing a game or not, so itâs not surprising that he tries to involve other people in his bad decision making.
And itâs not a big deal, really. Thereâs been countless missions and operations that have ended up with all of you staying in uncomfortably close quarters with each other. Youâve seen them naked countless times, and the same with them for you. Itâs never meant anything, and you know that Soapâs teasing is exactly that â you donât think theyâve ever once looked at you through any sexual lens at all.
But even still, the joke flusters you more than it should.
âThink Iâll be joining Cap in going to bed, actually.â You say, clearing your throat and setting your glass down on the low table in front of the couch.
The playful booing from Soap doesnât do much to change your mind, and you stick out your tongue at him and Gaz as you push yourself up from the couch. You try to ignore the loss of heat at your side when you move away from Ghost, though you canât help but glance back at the lieutenant. Heâs not looking at you, his gaze directed into his glass. You try not to feel disappointed about that.
You say your goodnights, and retreat from the rec room.
By the time you make it back to your dorm however, youâre already playing the conversation back over in your head and wondering if you had made the wrong decision.
Perhaps you should have just played the damn game. Despite your inexperience with all things sexual, youâre not actually all that shy about your body. On missions, you and the squad are often forced into tight quarters, and they've all seen you in various stages of undress before. It's hard to be self-conscious around a group of people that have seen you at your worst, whether thatâs soaked in blood, unshowered, sleep-deprived, or injured.
But you were so keyed up from your earlier failed attempts at masturbation that the thought of being so physically exposed in front of your squad is mortifying. It feels as though your unresolved arousal is still simmering through your veins, turning your thoughts slow and soupy and stupid.Â
Itâs not so surprising. Your preferred method of dealing with stress is coming back to your private bunk and messing around with your vibrator until youâve forgotten all of your problems. The problem is, youâve never quite been able to reach that climax youâve heard so many talk about.
Itâs not for lack of trying, and itâs not as though you havenât come close to that toe-curling finish you crave so much. But itâs like thereâs some sort of block, something that always holds you back before you can go plummeting over that edge. Something that makes the buzzing pleasure dissipate before your eyes like smoke, leaving you worked up and so frustrated. Itâs probably inevitable that all those ruined finishes have built up like sludge in your veins, leaving you slow and distracted and irritable.
You eye your underwear drawer thoughtfully as you perch on your bed, before reaching inside and drawing out the same dildo you had been using earlier. You wonder if it would be too much to try again tonight â the muscles in your calves still feel a little bit over-worked from training all day, and you have a feeling that straining in an attempt to reach an orgasm youâll likely never attain will only make it worse.
But the thought of Ghost in that stupid tight cotton shirt stays firmly stuck in your mind, and that really makes the decision for you. Before you can think too much about it, youâre sliding your jeans off and climbing atop your mattress. The sheets are dirty anyway, after all. May as well have some fun before you change them.
You slide your panties off next, then kick them to the side. Itâs difficult not to feel a little pathetic, but you push those feelings aside. So what if you have an embarrassing little crush on a superior officer? Itâs not like thatâs unusual within the military, and youâre quite certain that dealing with all that unresolved attraction like this is the most sensible thing you can do.
You fish out the bottle of lube you had been using earlier, and drizzle it liberally along the dildoâs length before setting it aside on the blanket. While youâve used your dildo plenty of times, you still struggle to grow accustomed to the stretch of it. Itâs a good dildo â a vibrating one in the rabbit style, designed to stimulate your g-spot and clit at the same time. It was damn expensive too, but itâs one luxury youâre willing to indulge in.
You close your eyes, slide it between your legs, and hit the power button. A low bzzz emanates from between your thighs; you jerk at the immediate barrage of pleasure, your abs tightening and your legs twitching apart, creating more room between them.
Your body is quick to react, sweat prickling under your armpits and your heart thudding quickly in your chest. You can feel electric pleasure coursing through you as you press it against your clit, your toes curling into your sheets.
You bring the vibrator lower, your clit throbbing a little at its sudden absence before you press it inside, sighing. It slips inside much too easily â youâre almost embarrassed by the easy slide. Youâre so wet, both from your failed attempt at masturbation earlier and from sitting beside Simon fucking Riley all evening. Itâs a deeper, subtler pleasure now, and you clench around it with a quiet moan.Â
You cycle through the vibratorâs different settings, making it buzz at odd intervals or lower intensities in your usual attempt to build up an orgasm. You wish, with sudden and mortifying clarity, that it could be replaced with a person. More specifically, a person with big hands and firm muscles that still have some soft give to them, and a toe-curlingly gravelly voice.
You squirm, shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrator inside you. Without meaning to, you imagine Ghost. Itâs hard not to, considering your close proximity to him all evening. Your cheeks heat as you imagine Ghost actually being here, watching you all still and silent with that penetrating dark-eyed stare of his.Â
You huff out a breath, arching off your bed. This is always the best part. You have to ensure that you relish the build up, before it all fizzles out from between your fingers. You whimper, soft and quiet, clenching around the stiff silicone as it buzzes away inside of you.
Right as you press the soft little vibrating bunny ears to your clit, thereâs a knock on the door. Then, horrifically, like a scene from your fucking nightmares, your door opens.
âKid, youââ
Ghost is already half-way through the door when he lays eyes on you, and then he goes completely still in your doorway.
âFuck.â You hiss, scrambling to knock the stupid thing off.Â
You fumble for it, panicking. The end is slippery and you can barely manage to grip it. When you finally do, itâs difficult to pull out, your body still attempting to hold it inside. Itâs another agonising few seconds to turn it off, the vibrator unfortunately featuring one of those awfully thought-out designs that makes you have to cycle through every single one of the settings rather than hit an off-switch.
And then, finally, silence.
Ghost is living up to his name right now; heâs as stock still and silent as a dead man, stiff as a board as he stares unblinkingly at you. Youâre not even sure that heâs breathing, but you can see the whites of his eyes as he gapes at you, frozen.
You stare back at him blankly, hoping that your bed comes to life and swallows you whole just to put an end to your mortification.
At last, Ghost blinks, then finishes his sentence. âYou left your phone.â
He lifts his arm. In his large, thick fist, is your stupid goddamn phone. You must have left it on the couch when you had gotten up to leave. You might have wondered at the lieutenant voluntarily bringing it to your dorm for you, but youâre hit with a wave of humiliation so strong that it wipes your brain completely blank.
âAh.â You say, and your voice cracks. âThanks.â
Thereâs a moment of mortifying silence, and then Ghost steps into your room. Your heart jolts right up into the base of your throat as he closes your door behind him. The click of the door is as loud as a gunshot in the silence thatâs settled over the room.
Ghost still hasnât blinked. Heâs watching you with eyes that look almost black in the dim light of your room, intense as a predator.Â
âIââ You attempt to speak, and your throat clicks dryly. âI didnâtââ
Far too late, you realise that your legs are still splayed open. You snap them shut, inhaling a choked breath through your nose.
âI thought I locked the door.â You finish lamely.Â
Ghost apparently decides to simply disregard that, which youâre honestly a little grateful for. Instead he steps towards you â the enormous bulk of him feels as though heâs completely filling every bit of space in the room, sucking out all the damn oxygen.
â...âS this why you were so distracted this evening, hm?â He says as he approaches the bed. âYou were in a mood âcause you wanted to get back to playing with yourself?â
Itâs not a question, exactly. At least, itâs not phrased like one. Ghostâs tone is knowing, with an undertone of gruff amusement. Youâre certain that youâre not imagining the rough, breathless quality to his voice either, though the thought sends nerves fizzing through your bloodstream.
âNo.â You deny uselessy; itâs plainly obvious what you were doing, after all. âNo, I justââ
He doesnât wait for you to finish. His eyes are still glued to you, even though your thighs are now pressed together. Before you can stop him, he reaches down and takes a hold of your hot pink vibrator where you had been trying to hide it beneath your thigh.
âCute little thing.â He comments, tilting his head to look at the dildo hanging between his thick fingers.
Mortification burns through you. A panicked sort of screech escapes you and you yank it back out of Ghostâs stupid big hand, shoving it under the blankets.Â
Perhaps if it had been anyone else, your humiliation wouldnât be burning quite so intensely. But this is Ghost â your lieutenant, the gruff man that youâve looked up to ever since you joined the task force. Heâs not a man famed for his patience, nor for his eloquence, which is making this situation all the more unbearable.
âLt,â You wheeze, scrambling to sit up and cover your pussy with your hands as you squeeze your legs closed. âI swear I didnâtâ Iâm sorryââ
But Ghost doesnât seem interested in your apologies. Heâs still watching you as though he can see right through the damn blanket, as though heâs measuring you up and trying to come to a decision about something. In that moment, you hate your reaction to him â no matter how humiliating this situation is, you want him to approve of you, even now.
âDidnât mean to interrupt.â He grunts, and then he sits down on your bed.
You gape at him. It feels as though your brain has stalled; youâre pretty sure youâre not reacting correctly right now. You probably should have screamed when the lieutenant walked right into your room without knocking. That surely would have sent him straight back out again. And even now, you should probably be ordering him out, telling him to leave.Â
But you donât.
âI was.. um.. finished anyway.â You manage to croak out. You sound so pathetic that you nearly make yourself cringe.
Ghost doesnât answer immediately. He just watches you, his eyes as dark as ever beneath the mask. For a moment, you think heâs not going to answer at all.
But then he says, âDidnât look like you finished to me.â
Blood rushes to your face so quickly that it makes you light-headed as you catch his meaning. Oh, what the fuck. This is just adding salt to the wound now.
âI wasnât trying toââ You start, then cut yourself off. âThatâs not why I wasâ I was just trying to relax.â
In the ensuing silence, you realise how silly you sound. At the very least, Ghost doesnât laugh; he just tilts his head to the side, consideringly.
âLet me see.â
You gape at him. âIâ sirââ
âLet me see, sergeant.â
Itâs not an order. Not quite. Ghostâs voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You have room to refuse. You could tell him to get out of your dorm right now, and heâd do it. Knowing the lieutenant, heâd never bring it up again, either.
You drop your knees apart, spreading your thighs in an unpracticed, self-conscious sort of motion.Â
Under the lieutenantâs sharp gaze, your skin prickles and your nerves strain. Even sitting down on your bed, heâs a veritable behemoth of broad shoulders and thick corded muscle. His hulking form towers over you even now, and you feel so damn small as you lay there propped up against your pillows in nothing but a t-shirt.
Ghost has seen you naked before, obviously. You canât afford to be prudish in the military, where you never know when youâll next have true privacy, and youâve changed out and showered with the squad countless times. Itâs never meant anything, and the men in 141 have never made you feel anything less than comfortable with them.
This, however, is different. This isnât just a case of catching a quick glimpse of your nude form as you shower in the group shower rooms when youâre out on missions â your whole damn pussy is out on display for him, still glistening wet and sticky from your ministrations and the lube youâd used.
Ghostâs inhale is as loud as a thunderclap. Youâve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in another personâs presence. You feel a little ridiculous laying like this as he watches you, but another part of you feels so humiliatingly desperate for some kind of approval from your lieutenant.Â
At first, that approval is nowhere to be found. Ghost is notoriously difficult to read, and youâre beginning to sweat as you lay there waiting for a response â any response.
At last, he makes a noise. Itâs part grunt, part hum, and part groan.
âYouâre still wet, sergeant.â
Are you imagining it, or is his voice an octave deeper than usual?Â
Your eyes trace his face, trying to imagine what he looks like beneath the mask. You can see the suggestion of his nose, the square curve of his jaw. His darkened eyes are watching you so carefully that you feel as though youâre physically being pinned in place.
You swallow. âItâs justâ Iââ
âYou didnât get to finish.â Ghost interrupts, with the air of completing your sentence for you.Â
You try to speak, but nothing more than a strangled sort of murmur escapes. You swallow hastily, then try again.
âI wasnât going to. Sir.â You tack on the title at the end as an afterthought, but this whole situation is so far beyond professional that you probably neednât have bothered. âFinish, I mean. I⌠I never do.â
Youâve admitted it before you can really think about it, and then you regret it wildly. You canât help but wonder if youâve overstepped a boundary, but then again the boundaries are currently so blurred that theyâre virtually impossible to discern.
âYou never finish.â Ghost repeats it. Slowly, staring right at your face, as though heâs confirming what youâve just said.Â
It sounds so much worse in his deep, gravelly voice.
Embarrassment blooms, thick and sickly in your stomach. Your legs start to twitch closed, too embarrassed to be having this conversation with your cunt bared like this, but then Ghostâs big paw of a hand reaches out to settle over your knee, keeping you open and exposed. Itâs so rare to see his hands ungloved, and the bare skin of his callous-roughened hand feels almost scorching hot against your inner knee.
âI donâtâ Iâve tried,â You say, and you canât help but feel as though youâre just digging yourself further into a hole, here. âBut I donâtâ Iâm not able to. I mean, Iâve come close, Iâm just not able to⌠you know.â
You trail off lamely, feeling like the biggest fucking loser ever. Why are you telling him this? Why the fuck havenât you reacted properly, and kicked him the hell out of your room?
Deep down, a shameful little part of you already knows the answer to that. Youâre feeling awfully, sickeningly hopeful. Having Lieutenant Riley in your dorm, sitting on your bed and staring so hungrily at the wet, swollen parts between your legs feels like something out of your wildest wet dreams.
His eyes flick towards your pink silicone rabbit dildo, half-hidden under your blanket, and he grunts consideringly before reaching out and taking it into his hands again. Itâs standard-size, but it looks small in his big hands.
âYou ainât doinâ it right, then.â He says, so bluntly that you just blink at him. âShow me how you use it.â
For a brief, wild moment, you wonder if youâre experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations right now. Surely you canât really be experiencing this right now â and yet the lieutenant is still watching you, and youâve never disobeyed a direct order before.Â
He hands you the vibrator, then waits expectantly.
And⌠well. All you ever try to do is impress him.Â
You shuffle your legs open a little wider, ignoring the flustered heat that scalds your cheeks. Youâve never been all exposed like this in front of another person, and the weight of Ghostâs eyes on you is reminiscent of being under a spotlight.
You swear his eyes darken even further when you press the stiff silicone rabbit dildo to your cunt, if itâs even possible for that gaze to get darker beneath the thick balaclava and eyeblack smeared over the narrow strip of skin thatâs visible.
The dildo sinks in so easily that itâs almost embarrassing, and your breath catches both from the stretch and the way Ghost leans in a little closer to see. Far from turning you off, you feel your body throb in response to his proximity, and your cunt flutters pathetically around the plastic toy. You shift, attempting to get a little more comfortable, but you canât dispel the nerves fizzing in your blood as you attempt to push the dildo a little deeper under Ghostâs sharp gaze.
His big, hulking body is so perfectly still as he watches you that itâs making you a little nervous. The only reaction that you get from him is a small, considering hum, but even then you canât figure out what it means. Your movements are a little clumsy, so hyper-conscious that heâs watching every single thing you do that you end up fumbling a little. Heâs looking at you in the same way he assesses threats, his intense dark eyes examining every movement and reaction you make. It makes you feel small and jittery, especially when you realise that heâs judging you by what youâre doing.
âYou gonna turn it on?â He asks, and oh god his voice has definitely dropped lower and huskier. You know youâre not imagining it.Â
You canât even bring yourself to respond with words. You just make a strangled sort of sound of agreement, then clumsily hit the on button. The toy buzzes to life once more, and your toes curl absent-mindedly into the sheets as the soft silicone bunny ears pulse against your clit.
It feels nice, but you canât manage to concentrate on the feeling. Hyper-aware of Ghostâs attention, you let out a quiet moan as you shift the vibrator inside you. Itâs a little exaggerated, but you canât help it â you feel like you should be putting on some kind of a show.Â
You glance back at Ghostâs face, trying to guess what heâs thinking; even through the mask, you can tell that heâs frowning. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. Have you done something wrong?
âThis how you usually do it?â He asks.
You swallow thickly, feeling a bit stupid. âUm.. yeah.â
Ghost grunts. He doesnât sound impressed.
âNo wonder you canât come.â He says wryly.
You go still, eyes widening. In the silence, the bzzzzt! of your stupid vibrator is louder than ever. A sudden wave of shame washes over you, and you start to close your legs again in an effort to block the sight of the toy stuffed into your pussy.
âOh,â You snap sourly, your embarrassment making you irritable. âSo youâre the pussy expert now?â
That startles a loud bark of a laugh out of the lieutenant, a sound so rare that you find yourself desperately trying to commit it to memory.
âThink I might know a bit more than you, sweetheart.â He says. Heâs relaxed now, his wide shoulders rolling back. Heâs always so effortlessly confident, always so assured in himself and his abilities in a way that makes you feel like a silly little girl.Â
Judging by the way the corners of his eyes are just slightly wrinkled beneath the mask, Ghost is smirking at you. He finds this funny.
âWhat about when youâre with other people, hm?â He asks, and his eyes drop back down to try and get a look at you again. When he realises that your legs are clamped tight together, he reaches out to guide your thighs apart again. âNo oneâs ever impressed you?â
His hands are big and rough and hot, and your willpower crumbles like wet paper as you allow him to open your legs all over again. The vibrator is still buzzing sadly inside you, mostly forgotten about; the stimulation is nice, but itâs never been enough for you.
You huff a weak laugh. You should have known that this would come up, and now you find yourself floundering a little.
âNo oneâs ever tried.â The confession comes out like a whisper, like a secret.
You can see the moment Ghost understands; realisation settles heavy over him like a physical weight, and the whites of his eyes flash as they widen just slightly. For a moment, he says nothing at all. He doesnât move â it doesnât even look like he breathes.Â
âNo?â He says, except it doesnât really sound like a question. It sounds rough, and you can feel the almost convulsive motion of his fingers tightening around your knee.Â
You shake your head wordlessly, beyond embarrassed now.
Ghostâs wispy blond eyelashes flutter softly as his eyes dart down to your pussy, still humiliatingly stuffed with your stupid little vibrator. He takes a moment to stare, then looks back up to your face. Heâs so frustratingly confident about everything he does, not an ounce of shame in his posture even as you wilt beneath him.
âNever messed around with anybody?â
âNo.â You say, and it comes out on a wheeze. He holds your gaze without faltering, and you realise that heâs expecting you to elaborate. âNo, Iâ it just never happened. I was never⌠um, I was just always too busy, I guess.â
âToo fussy, more like.â He mutters, quiet enough that it seems like itâs a comment meant just for himself. You donât know how to take that, so you chew your lip and stay quiet.
His eyes drop down to the vibrating dildo again, and you recognise something that looks like a flash of hunger. It feels like thereâs pressure building up beneath your skin, tight and hot, and your thighs fall open a little further. You feel raw and so, so exposed, but you donât even care when Ghost is looking at you like that.
âLet me try.â He says, the words falling out sharp and harsh as though he theyâve burst out of his mouth before he can stop them. Itâs not like Ghost to speak without thinking it through, perfectly calculated, and your breath catches a little at the offer.
How could you ever say no to that? You donât really think that heâs going to succeed in making you come â at this point youâre pretty sure your body is a little bit broken and youâre just not capable of orgasming at all, and thatâs whatever â but the chance to get fucked by Ghost? To lose the lingering vestiges of your viriginity to your ridiculously hot, mysterious, massive lieutenant? Itâs like something out of a dream.
âOkay.â You choke out, nodding stupidly. âYeah.â
You want to be touched. You donât think youâve ever actually felt the yearning for physical contact this strongly in your life; youâre practically holding your breath as you wait for Ghost to make a move.
Finally, he reaches out. His first move is to pull the stupid little dildo out of you, still vibrating, and you feel yourself clench convulsively around nothing as he leaves you empty and wanting. He spares it a brief, evaluating glance, and you feel yourself burn as you realise heâs examining how youâve soaked the toy.
He tosses it to the side, barely even taking the time to switch it off first, then turns his attention back to you. Heâs got that same kind of laser-focus he usually only gets out on the field, and you take a moment to feel incredibly grateful that youâre never going to be on the receiving end of that terrifying scrutiny on the battlefield.
It feels like your skin is too tight for your body, every nerve and synapse strained and primed as you wait for him to touch you. But heâs slow about it, as though he just wants to torture you a little bit.Â
When he finally reaches out to lay his hands on you, he doesnât touch where you want him to.
His callous-roughened hands land on your hips, and pull you down the bed towards him. In the same move, he half-climbs up on the mattress, his huge form practically dwarfing you. Your head and shoulders are still cushioned by your pillows, but your legs are splayed open around Ghost where he kneels on your bed.
You glance down, unable to help yourself, unable to resist trying to catch a look at the outline of his erection pressing against his trousers, and oh. Fuck. Heâs big. You knew heâd be big, of course, heâs big all over, but Jesus Christ, maybe youâre a little out of your own depth hereâ
His thick fingers tangle in the hem of your t-shirt, stretching the fabric out. âTake this off.â
You scramble to do as he says, grabbing at your top and pulling it up clumsily. You realise a moment too late that youâre not wearing a bra, but you suppose at this point it hardly matters. You drop your shirt to the side, and try not to feel too horrifically self-conscious beneath the burning hot gaze of the lieutenant.
Though you canât see Ghostâs face, you can hear the soft exhale he blows out through his nose, just faintly muffled by the fabric of his mask. His eyes are trained on your chest, darting between each of your tits as though he canât decide which one to settle on. After a long moment, he reaches forward and cups your left tit with one of his enormous hands, thumbing absently at one of your nipples.
Itâs silly; Ghost has touched you before. Lots of times. A nudge of the elbow accompanied by a conspiratorial eye roll, a clap to the shoulder, rough hands pulling you to your feet after training or applying white-hot painful pressure to injuries. But this â youâve never been touched like this before, not by Ghost, not by anyone.
The shaky breath you let out as his big, rough thumb rolls over your firm nipple comes out as a strangled sort of moan that honestly startles you a little. The noise catches his attention, and he snorts.
âCanât be that sensitive.â He mutters, but then he reaches to thumb at your other nipple as though trying to be sure.
Itâs because youâve never been touched like this by another person before, you tell yourself. Truthfully, youâve never even touched yourself like this before. Youâve never bothered to play with your own tits; youâve always just gone straight to breaking out your vibrators. Now, with every brush of Ghostâs scarred fingers over the tight bud of your nipples, you think you must have been crazy to skip over this part of yourself. But then again, thereâs no way that your own hands on yourself would elicit the same sharp jolt that shoots from your breasts down your spine.
âSirââ You breathe, struggling not to squirm where youâre laying. You wonder, somewhat deliriously, if it might be rude to demand your lieutenant stuff his thick fingers into your pussy. You can already tell that theyâre going to feel so much better than your own.
Ghost glances up at you, his eyes unreadable as he watches you bite at your lip. God, his little wispy eyelashes are so blondâ
âWhat?â He says, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. âSay it.â
âWant to try your fingers.â You breathe before you can second-guess yourself.Â
The laugh that rumbles out of Ghostâs chest is low and smoky. Itâs probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, so big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. Youâve witnessed those hands crack bones and snap necks and break down doors, and yet you canât help but wonder desperately what theyâre going to feel like when he starts touching you properly.
He adjusts himself on the bed; heâs a big man, hulking and huge as he kneels on your mattress, his weight causing it to dip. His palms wrap around your ankles with ease, and he hauls you into place with a grim efficiency that goes straight to your pussy.
âBig brute.â You say, a little breathlessly.
He ignores you, using his arms to hold your legs open and wide for him. And all you can do is just lie there as he stares, because goddamn itâs like heâs been carved from steel and you canât break out of his grip. Not that you want to break out of his grip anyway, but youâd really appreciate it if he actually got moving instead of just staring.
âFuck,â He grunts after a moment, with the air of talking to himself. âBeen hiding this all this time, huh?â
âJesus.â You breathe in response, subconsciously letting your legs drop open even more.
He makes a low noise of appreciation, and finally reaches out to touch you properly. One thick thumb swipes through the seam of your cunt, and you feel the way heâs smearing the clear sticky wetness thatâs been leaking steadily out of you. With his now slick thumb, he drags up towards your clit and circles it with agonisingly light pressure.
You let out an embarrassing choked whine, your toes curling at the sensation. Somewhat ironically, Ghost is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your attempts, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow.
âDâyou always get this wet?â
You canât even tell if heâs asking you mockingly or if heâs being genuinely curious; it feels like every inch of your focus has narrowed down to the feel of his big thumb rolling those tight little circles around your clit, his touch scorching against you.
Itâs not exactly surprising that Ghost is good with his hands. Youâve seen the way he handles weaponry, locking and loading and aiming to fire with the kind of swiftness that comes from muscle memory, working with unwavering speed and precision. Heâs the same in hand-to-hand combat, moving with aggressive fluidity that overwhelms his opponents. Youâve caught hits from him before in training, and you know from experience that a punch from those big hands feels like getting hit by a cinder block.
But even knowing how deft and skilled his hands are, it knocks the breath out of you when he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, still rubbing steadily at the swollen bump of your clit.Â
When you exhale, it accidentally comes out as a moan. Your cheeks burn, but thereâs really no space in your brain right now for embarrassment to sink in. Two of Ghostâs fingers are the equivalent of at least three and a half of yours, and you feel yourself break out into an overwhelmed sweat when they twist and rub against the sensitive squishy spot in the front wall of your cunt.
Youâre so damn worked up, your arousal coiled like a knot in your lower belly from your failed attempts to get yourself off all day. Your back curves, humping yourself near mindlessly back up into his hand as he plays you like a goddamn instrument.
You barely even have time to consider how unfair it is that Ghost is so good at playing with you like this when he doesnât even have a pussy himself, because then he pulls his fingers out of you.
âOh, no, donât stopââ You start to protest breathlessly, your chest still heaving, but the quick glance the lieutenant sends you has you falling silent.
Ghost glances down at his fingers. Theyâre all glossy from fingering you, and he takes a moment to eye up the way they glisten in the dim light of your bunk. You might have felt self-conscious about it, if you couldnât see the unmistakable gleam of hungry interest in Ghostâs dark brown eyes.
He wipes his hand on the crease of your hip, but you donât even get the chance to protest before he reaches up to hook his fingers into his mask. You go still, holding your breath in surprise as he pulls the material up until it bunches up around the bridge of his nose.
And thatâsâ well. Youâve seen his jaw before, and his mouth (Jesus, you had seen it earlier that evening, when he had been sipping on his smooth whiskey of choice), but the sight of his strong jawline and blond stubble and corded scars on his pale skin always manages to knock the breath out of you. And this time, heâs rolled his mask up even further than before, revealing a nose thatâs clearly been broken at least once before.
You probably shouldnât stare so blatantly, especially knowing that Ghost always takes such pains to keep his face covered. Youâre not even sure if the other guys on the team have seen his uncovered face, except for Price, and you know that theyâve developed a habit of averting their eyes when he pulls his mask up for whatever reason. Itâs a habit that you never quite managed to develop yourself; youâre never able to stop yourself from gaping at him like a moron, drinking in all of the minutest details. Heâs never said a thing about your penchant for staring, so you can only hope that heâs chosen to ignore it.
Youâre so busy staring that it takes you by surprise when he grips your jaw with one massive hand and pulls you into a rough kiss.
The sound you make is small and startled, but itâs swallowed by Ghostâs demanding mouth. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but they feel scorching hot against yours. You reach up to grab at his arms â mostly just to ground yourself â but you find yourself almost immediately distracted by the firm bulge of his biceps beneath your hands.
Listen, youâve kissed people before, plenty times. Youâre in your early twenties, and just because youâre inexperienced sexually it doesnât mean that youâre inexperienced full stop. But this, right now, kissing with Ghost, makes you feel as though youâve been doing nothing but fumbling your way through all of those encounters, like youâve been kissing wrong all this time.
Itâs slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body until you find your fingers grasping desperately at the short cotton sleeves of Ghostâs t-shirt where itâs stretched over his thickly muscled arm.
Ghost doesnât just kiss with his mouth, either. Itâs like a full-body experience with him; he puts his hands, his whole damn body into the kiss. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backwards into the pillows beneath you. At the same time, itâs all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Ghostâs hands running over you, stroking you sides and squeezing at your breasts and groping at the soft flesh of your hips and ass.Â
 âHah,â You gasp out when Ghostâs lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you feel yourself grow embarrassingly wetter, just from a little kissing.
âYou good?â Ghost grunts into your throat as he nips at the base of your jaw.
âUh huh.â You manage to get out, still clutching at his meaty arms like theyâre a lifeline. âSo good.â
His breath is hot on your throat when he rumbles out a deep chuckle, and then his tongue flicks out against your earlobe. It makes you forget how to breathe for a second, and youâre distracted when Ghostâs hand changes course, easing beneath your legs so he can press his fingers against your clit again.
Then he pauses, and his fingers slide lower, lazily hooking back and inside you. You tremble, horny and humiliated as you realise that your arousal is glistening all over your damn thighs, impossible to miss.
âFuck,â Ghost mutters. âAll this for me, sweetheart?â
âHnng,â You whimper like an idiot as his fingers return to your clit, now slick and slippery. âIâm justââ
He doesnât wait for you to explain. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of you again and kisses you hard. The soft breathy noises you make are muffled into his mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically. Heâs built like a damn mountain, your thighs stretched wide to accommodate the bulk of him as he settles against the core of you.
He likes that â he presses in close, and you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing up against you through the roughness of his jeans. Youâre so sensitive that the coarseness of the fabric is almost unbearable, but youâre able to ignore it because youâre so distracted by the sensation of his erection because holy fucking shit that canât really be how big he is.
You gasp, the sound high and breathy, and you try to grind against Ghost, but itâs impossible because heâs so fucking heavy and heâs pinning you down on the mattress beneath him. Instead, all you can do is squeeze your legs and pull Ghost in even tighter, increasing the pressure between the two of you.
âIâm gonna ruin you,â Ghost whispers, and it sounds like a promise. He drags his lips up your throat, then talks against the corner of your mouth. âYou wonât be able to touch yourself again without wishing it was me.â
The wave of desire that rocks through you almost pulls you under, and you swear you might have actually gotten so horny that you blacked out for a second, because from one second to the next Ghost has somehow managed to muscle his way back down between your thighs so that heâs eye-level with your cunt.
âWhat are youââ You start to say, but then he loops his forearms under your knees to tug your legs wider, and you realise just how close his face is to your pussy. You swear youâre actually pulsing with arousal, and you wonder a little wildly if he can see that.
âOh, fuck, yes â please,â You blurt out, before Ghost has even gotten his mouth on you. He chuckles, low and amused. His grin looks predatory, but in this moment you really donât mind being the prey â not if it means youâll be devoured by that mouth.
Then Ghostâs mouth is against you, wet and burning hot. You cry out, barely noticing as Ghost throws one of your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open.
Itâs just the right side of overwhelming. Ghostâs mouth feels like itâs going to swallow you whole â his tongue is huge and flat and firm as he licks over your clit, making your thighs quake on either side of his head. Itâs entirely unlike any of the fumbling masturbatory attempts youâve ever made â you always enjoy messing around with your various little sex toys, but youâre swiftly beginning to realise that it could never compare to real human contact. Or at least, contact with Ghost.
His hands move from your waist to your asscheeks, his big palms squeezing the plump flesh there before using his grip to pull your body closer so that he can bury his whole face between your legs. The rougher material of his mask presses harshly into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, but you hardly even notice it.
Your pussy has never been this wet before; it feels like youâve sprung a goddamn leak. You might have felt embarrassed about it if it werenât for the way Ghost groans against you, his wide tongue laving flat and rough against the seam of your cunt as he practically gulps down all the sticky arousal you have to give him.
âOh godâ fuck! SirâŚâ You sigh, spreading your knees farther apart so that Ghost can wedge his head further between your thighs.
Your ears burn as your room is filled with sounds of him tonguing at your cunt, the lewd wet squish of him working you over until youâre keening, your hips twitching clumsily until his hands tighten where heâs gripping the plump flesh of your ass to keep you still. Then all you can do is twitch as he licks over your clit in repetitive lapping motions, working in circles and then dipping down to shove his searingly hot tongue inside you. You can feel his teeth press against your labia even as he sucks at your clit, and the sensation sends hot bolts of pleasure rocketing down your spine.
Though you donât mean to, youâre pretty sure that you make his job harder. You canât stop wriggling, tossing your head back against your pillows and squirming on Ghostâs tongue in a wild overstimulated dance, like a fish caught in a net.
Finally, Ghost seems to have enough of your unco-ordinated flailing attempts to grind against his face. He reaches around your thigh with one arm to reach your clit so he can keep it stimulated as he gulps at the sticky sweetness of your cunt like a man possessed â the action also works to keep your hips pinned down and still. You stop your frantic moving, but your spasms and sounds increase tenfold.
You can hardly believe it, but you feel something coming. A sweet, torturous build up starts in your belly, and you sweat and gasp as he licks and suckles at you relentlessly. Youâve never found yourself in this state so quickly before, with your legs trembling and your breathing heavy and shaky.Â
âOh.. ohâŚâ You breathe, beginning to arch your back.
You know this feeling â this is where that sweet climax builds and builds, only to dissipate at the last agonisingly close moment. But this time, with Ghostâs big head between your thighs as his mouth moves against you, sucking, tasting, eating up everything you have to offer, the breath-taking pleasure doesnât show any sign of slipping out of reach. It feels like for once you might actually reach that peak.
But then, right as youâre certain that youâre about to tip over that long-awaited coveted release, the bastard pulls away.
âNo!â You practically shriek, attempting to sit up. âNo, I was so closeâ!â
âLie back.â Ghost orders, his voice like the crack of a whip.Â
You drop back obediently before you can even register that youâre moving, so conditioned to react instantly to that tone of voice coming from Ghostâs deep rumbling baritone. Your eyes are wide and betrayed as you stare at him, admittedly a little baleful.
God, but itâs hard to stay annoyed when heâs staring up at you from between your legs like that. His eyes are dark and hungry beneath the mask, and since itâs all pushed up and rumpled around his nose you get a toe-curlingly good look at his lower face. His chin is wet and smeared with your slick, and his lips are plump and pink and swollen from all the kissing and suckling he���s done to you. In a moment of near-delirium, you think that you understand now why he covers his face â his mouth is pretty in a way that shocks you, in a way that needs to be hidden for decencyâs sake.
âYouâre gettinâ greedy,â He grunts, turning his head and sinking his teeth into the crease of your thigh just to make you yelp. âWait for it, love. Itâll be worth the wait.â
You donât think you have much of a choice, so all you can do is lay back and hold on for the ride. He presses his mouth to you again, and you whimper softly as he tongues at your clit.Â
âNo oneâs ever eaten you out like this?â He asks, the words muffled into the damp curve of your thigh. Itâs stupid, because you know he knows the answer to that is a resounding no, but it seems like he just wants to hear you say it out loud.
âNo.â You say, your breaths sawing their way out of your chest.
âHnn.â He makes some kind of grunting sound against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. âThatâs why youâve been so tense, huh? So fuckinâ desperate for someone to touch you?â
âThatâs notâ âm not tense,â You manage to get out, your breasts heaving as your thighs tense up where theyâre thrown over his shoulders. âMaybe.. Maybe youâre too relaxed.â
Ghost huffs a hot little laugh at your hip because you both know that couldnât be further from the truth. You doubt anyone has ever accused Ghost of being too relaxed before, but you donât have time to feel stupid for it â not when Ghost is devoting the full force of his attention on you, deep breaths huffing against the wet skin of your pussy and making you shudder.
âThatâs it,â He croons, his voice uncharacteristically soft and lilting. The rumble of it ripples through your limbs like lapping waves, his battle-roughened palm stroking and smoothing down your ass and thigh as he hauls you closer. âRelax, sweetheart. Fuck, such a pretty pussy. Fuckinâ criminal of you to keep this hidden away all to yourself.â And then, quieter, âFuckinâ Christ, youâre wet.â
Youâre not even sure that heâs talking to you. It seems more as though heâs talking to himself, and it just happens to be you heâs talking about. Your cheeks burn as the feeling of vulnerability sets in, but you keep your legs spread wide as he kisses your clit with his swollen pink lips. You want so badly to be good, for him to be pleased with you, that you push past your embarrassment as best you can.
Thereâs a budding anxiety in your belly that Ghost is wasting his time here. As much as you crave his touch and the build up, you worry that heâs going to get frustrated with you and your inability to actually orgasm.
But Ghost doesnât seem to be in a rush. He seems perfectly fucking happy between your legs, and even with his mask all clumsily rucked up around his nose he presses his face into your pussy with his eyes heavy-lidded and hazy. Even when you shift a little in an effort to get him to go a little harder or faster, he just pins you still and continues at his own leisurely pace.
When he reintroduces his fingers, pressing inside and stretching you out with a light sting, you hiss and try to lift your hips again. His rough calloused knuckles brush against the inside of your soft inner thighs, making them quiver as he goes three fingers deep.
âShhh, atta girl.â He mumbles into you, his words coming out wetly muffled since he doesnât even both pulling his face back. âFuckinââ shit, so good.â
The praise shoots liquid and molten through you, and you have to bite back a pathetic keen as you pulse around his fingers. Youâre sure he must feel it, because he lets out an answering rumble and laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks.
âOh godââ
âShhh.â Ghost scoots forward so your knee can hoist over his shoulder. Then he angles his chin to kiss the skin on the inside curve of your knee as he pumps into you with slow, slippery fingers and ungodly squelching noises that only sparks you hotter. You canât even tell if itâs sweat or tears dotting your face anymore.
Though Ghostâs eyes are heavy-lidded and a little fogged over, he hasnât looked away from you once. The focused intensity of his gaze spears you through, because youâve never been looked at like that. No one has ever seen you like this, no one has ever put effort into you like this, no one has ever been so determined to please you before. You donât know how youâre ever going to recover from this; you have a terrifyingly distinct impression that heâs going to live up to his promise to ruin you for anyone else.
It feels as though your blood is boiling beneath your skin, and you nearly sob when Ghost pulls back. Youâve never been so close, and you want to scream when he takes his gorgeous fucking mouth away from your clit.
âFuck.â You wet your lips, realising you were panting like a dog and your mouth is bone dry. âFuck, Ghost, justââ
âQuiet, lovie.â His reply is hoarse and firm, his throat working hard to swallow as he peered down between you, his clever thumb delving slick circles over the taut bump of your clit, his other three fingers fucking with easy rhythm and purpose. Itâs maddening, itâs infuriating, it makes you feel as though youâre about to break apart.
His fingers are pulled out, and then you feel firm pressure pressing into you yet again. Your head lolls as you attempt to sit up, your eyelids fluttering as you realise that heâs pressing your stupid dildo into you again.
âOh, you bastardââ You start to complain, but Ghost doesnât give you the opportunity to speak properly.
The dildo slides into you so easily, your sticky slick mixing with his spit making the slide almost effortless. You sigh, a build-up of pressure making your whole body feel as though youâve been stretched out and pulled tight.Â
Now that youâve been pushed to the edge, you linger by it. Ghost keeps you on that edge for what feels like hours, until your breaths are burning in your chest and the ligaments in your calves are screaming from all the straining youâve been doing. Every roll of Ghostâs thumb over your clit sends sparks racing through your nerves, and your breathing is harsh and uneven as Ghost starts fucking you with the stupid vibrating dildo. The rhythm he sets is firm and unrelenting, pushing the silicone toy in and out and visibly relishing the wet squish of your cunt as it takes it deep.
Ghost huffs against the wet skin of your inner thigh, making you shudder. It seems like heâs enjoying this as much as you are, judging by the subtle roll of his hips against your mattress as he absorbs himself in fucking you with the dildo.Â
He experiments with the angle, adjusting the dildo until you cry out, jerking against the bedding, and whining âThere!â. You neednât bother telling him, though; Ghost has a sharp eye, and heâs so goddamn attentive. Heâs already repeating the stroke, pushing the dildo in and bumping it against the same sensitive spot he had hit before.
It feels good, but itâs not enough. Now that youâve felt the firm hot pressure of his fingers spreading you wide and the wet hunger of his mouth devouring you, you donât think anything else will do.
He shifts, you catch the rolls of his hips against your mattress again, and you feel as though youâve caught fire. You think of the glimpse you had caught of his hard cock, pressing against his jeans and making the fabric stretch taut, and you find yourself speaking without thinking.
Ghost pushes the dildo in once more, and you reach down to grab at his wrist as you ask breathlessly, âCan I try yours?â
He pauses; goes so still that itâs honestly uncanny, his eyes practically boring holes into you as he stares at your face. You grow flustered, your own eyes widening in response to your own words. Just because heâs deigning to touch you with his fingers and his mouth, doesnât mean heâs actually planning to fuck you. Jesus, heâs your fucking superior officer. What were you thinking?
âIâm sorry,â You squeak. âThat wasnât appropriate. Fuck, forget I said thatââ
Even beneath the mask, you can see the bob of Ghostâs Adam's apple as he swallows thickly.
âYou sure?â He interrupts your rambling before you can get started. âI donât... âm not good with virgins.â
Thereâs⌠thereâs so much you could say in response to that. Namely, he certainly doesnât seem like heâs bad with virgins, as evidenced by the throb of arousal still pulsing through your soaked cunt. Heâs just had you sobbing at the mercy of his fingers and mouth, and all he has to say when you ask for more is that heâs not good with virgins?
Instead, what you say is a rather lame, âIâm not technically a virgin.â
Which is true. Sort of. Based on a technicality â you had bullied your damn vibrator through your stupid hymen years ago, and youâve always thought the idea of virginity was a stupid one, anyway.Â
âPlastic cocks donât count, darlinâ.â
Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed as humiliation burns through you. Jesus, okay. Thatâs just mortifying.Â
âOh, you think your cock is special, then?â You scoff, attempting nonchalance.
Ghost shifts, letting your legs drop from his shoulders, and kneels up on the mattress so that heâs looming over you. Fuck, every time you get a visceral reminder of how big he is, you feel a little faint. Itâs like having a veritable wall of muscle caging you into your bed. Your thighs are spread wide to accommodate the size of him, and you find yourself absolutely captivated by the sight of him with his muscles straining against that stupid tight t-shirt, still panting lightly from his greedy gorging on your cunt.
He reaches out and drags a hand slowly from your cunt up over your belly, between your breasts, up over your sternum, to rest over your collarbones. Itâs gentle â he doesnât put an iota of pressure against your throat â but all you can fucking see is the swell of his bicep and the dark ink of his tattoo and the prominent veins running down the chiselled muscle of his forearm.
Good fucking lord.
âYouâll find out.â He says.
And oh. Okay then. Yeah, you sure fucking will.
He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, and you canât help but strain to try and watch. He pushes them down carelessly around his thighs, but doesnât make any move to strip them off any further. Youâre suddenly aware of the fact that youâre laying on the bed completely nude and exposed, while Ghost has only pushed his jeans down far enough to pull his cock out, but you donât have any time to feel self-conscious about it.
His cock curves up against his belly, red and twitching. Heâs fucking rock hard, and bigger than you had been expecting, bigger than any of your stupid little toys. Your mouth goes dry, and your eyes widen comically. Fuck. No wonder heâs confident. Heâs not lacking in any way.
âDâyouâve a johnny?â He asks, one big paw of a hand taking his cock and stroking lazily at it until a bead of pearly precum oozes from the angry red head.
Youâre distracted for a moment, staring at the way he fists his cock, before you blink back to yourself. âWhat?â
âA condom.â He enunciates slowly, as though speaking to someone he thinks is a bit thick.
âI know what you meant,â You snap, embarrassed. âButâ no. Why would I? Iâve neverâŚâ
You can see the way his eyes crease and realise that heâs frowning beneath the mask, and youâre hit with a sudden bolt of panic â is he going to change his mind now? You can see the hesitation in the lines of his shoulders, but you think if he changes his mind about fucking you, you might just die.
âIt doesnât matter,â You blurt, âYou donât need one. Iâm on the pill. Iâm clean.â
Ghost cocks his head, but remains still. Itâs almost unnerving, and you feel your toes curl into the bedsheets as you wait for an answer. He looks fucking predatory, hulking over you like a fucking behemoth as he watches you assessingly. You try your best to look confident, but you have a feeling that you just look desperately hungry.
He reaches up and hooks his fingers into the fabric of his mask and pulls it back down to cover his still slick-shiny mouth and jaw, and youâre gripped with sudden overwhelming panic and dismay that heâs changed his mind, that heâs about to leave you here wet and empty and wanting. In that moment, you throw your dignity into the wind.
âPlease,â You beg pathetically, wriggling a little bit against your sweat-damp bedding in an effort to grind yourself against him. âPlease, please, itâs fine, I swear, you donât need oneââ
âFuckinâ hell.â Ghost grinds out, his voice rough and a little hoarse. âHow can a virgin be such a fuckinâ slut?â
Some part of you wonders if you should be offended by that, but instead a frisson of heat runs down your spine. You know youâre not a slut â youâve never searched for any sexual attention, and youâve never even experienced someone elseâs touch â but goddamn you want to be a slut for your lieutenant right now.
Despite his harsh words, when Ghost hooks your legs over his hips and aligns himself with you, heâs gentle. Heâs acting like youâre something fragile; heâs so big that your legs are spread wide around his waist, his shoulders so broad that heâs blocking out the dim light from your lamp, and yet his touch is light against you as though heâs afraid to break you.
Heâs still gripping his cock hard, and he slides the tip of it against your slick heat. You have a brief moment of alarm; even through the haze of arousal, you can recognise that this is going to be a tight fit. You breathe deeply, then begin to wiggle your hips in an effort to take him inside you.
He hisses, then one of his big hands grabs at your hip. âFuck, stay still.â
âPut it in.â You beg, your voice coming out thick and stupid-sounding. âFuck, please, câmon, câmonââ
âKid,â Ghost bites out through clenched teeth, his voice low and gritty. âNeed you to shut the fuck up for me.â
You manage to bite down on your lip, but you canât stop yourself from pouting mopily at him with wide, wet eyes. You donât understand why heâs making you wait â canât he see how mean heâs being? Youâre so fucking wet, so empty as you clench down on nothing, and your clit is so desperate for any kind of stimulation that itâs throbbing needily. The head of his cock catches at your opening, dipping in for a second before resuming its maddening slide up and down.
Ghost is still watching you closely, his brown eyes flickering from where the head of his cock drags through your sodden folds up to your pleading pouting expression. You can only imagine what kind of a sight you make, because his chest growls with a choked sort of groan.
âI know,â He murmurs, almost mockingly soft with you. âI know, you want it. Gotta give it to you slowly.â
You want to tell him that he doesnât have to give it to you slowly, that he can go as fast and hard as he wants to, but some sense of self-preservation shuts you up. Instead, you nod clumsily as he rubs his cock over the slick folds of your cunt, lubing himself up with your own arousal. The feeling of his cock dragging over you, iron hard and velvety soft, so close to where you want it, is enough to have your head spinning dizzily.
You want to beg again, but youâre still trying to follow his order to be silent. You shift restlessly, biting back a whimper when he taps his cock thoughtfully against your clit.
Finally, he decides to put you out of your misery.Â
The thick crown of his cock pushes against the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your cunt, and the gasp you let out is positively punched out of you. He goes slow, just like he promised, but you can still hardly believe it. He goes in and in and in, and yet heâs somehow not even halfway inside.Â
âFuck,â You wheeze, punctuated by a strange little yowl. âOh god, waitââ
You feel stuffed just from the first few inches, drunk already on the quiet little grunts heâs making. The stretch and the sting and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him and you canât even decide if itâs good or if itâs too much. Your eyes are hot and wet as overwhelmed tears begin to overflow, and you find yourself arching in a weak attempt to flex away from him and the devastating stretch.
God, heâs massive. You knew he would be, of course, but his size seems so much more significant when youâre being impaled on the end of his cock. Fuck, you can feel your vision go blurry as your eyes fill with overwhelmed tears. Youâre mortified when a sob is ripped from your chest, harsh and thick.
âShh, shh.â Ghost coos, his deep voice syrupy thick as he leans over you, the enormous bulk of him caging you into the mattress until your whole world consists only of him. âJust a little bit more.â
âFuck,â You choke out, trying to arch away again but failing because heâs so big that thereâs nowhere to go. âItâs not gonna fit!â
âShh, lovie,â He rumbles, ducking his face down so that the rough cotton of his mask is pressed against the sweaty skin of your neck. âRelaxân let me in.â
âIâ âm tryingââ You whine, clutching at his biceps. âJesusââ
You blink your eyes open, vision blurry from the tears clumping your lashes together, only to be met with the sight of Ghostâs deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath the black mask. Heâs looming above you, his gaze made all the more intense by the fact that itâs the only part of his face you can really see.
âAll that messinâ around with those plastic cocks, but youâre still this tight for me,â He says, his voice so deep that you feel it reverberate into your bones. âDeep breath.â
The breath you inhale at his instruction is rough and ragged, and he snorts a low breathless laugh in response.
When he finally drives his cock all the way in with one smooth stroke, all the breath is driven from your lungs. It feels as though his cock has been pressed all the way up into your chest, and the noise you make when you squirm on it is utterly pathetic.Â
Ghostâs hands are like steel clamps when they close around the plump flesh of your thighs, holding them up and pressing them back until theyâre pressed against your belly. He looms over you, still almost entirely clothed as sweat beads over his thickly muscled neck. Itâs like getting pinned down by a mountain, and you whimper as youâre speared open and prone by the weight of Ghost pressing down upon you.
He hasnât even started to move yet, but you still feel overfull and raw.
âToo big,â You mumble, struggling to catch your breath. You choke on a sob and feel your eyes burn with unshed tears as your back arches. âGhostâ!â
âShh.â He grunts. âCall me Simon when I fuck you.â
That⌠that does something to you. Molten heat rockets up your spine and pools in your belly, and you swear your pussy floods. Itâs stupid, how being granted permission to call your lieutenant by his first name is somehow so much hotter than anything else heâs done so far.
âSimon,â You try it out. It comes out a little shaky, your voice little more than a weak whisper, but you swear you can see his eyes sharpen.Â
Apparently having come to the decision that youâve adjusted enough, Ghost pulls his hips back only to drive back in.Â
âOh!â You yelp, hips jumping, but thereâs nowhere to go.Â
All you can do is lie there as he slides out, out, out, slow and careful and long, and then his hips snap forward and he impales you, pressing all the way into him. He does it again, and again, and you try to bite down on your tongue, try to not sound so pathetically wrecked, but you canât. Itâs like Ghost is puncturing your lungs and every time he fucks into you, you let out the most pathetic little mewling ah ah ah sounds.
Youâre not quite prepared for how different this feels; itâs nothing like your stupid plastic dildo. Ghostâs cock is bigger, but itâs also hotter and with more give than you expected, and youâve never been able to fuck yourself like this. Your plastic toys could never compare to the sensation of being pinned by your giant of a lieutenant as he ruts into you.
Ghost reaches up and roughly pushes his mask up so his mouth is exposed again before he leans in deeper, almost folding you cleanly in half, stretching in to claim your mouth in a kiss thatâs not quite a kiss, but rather a fierce mash of lips and tongue as his rhythm picks up, riding you down into the mattress until you realised the screaming noise isnât coming from either one of you, but the cheap standard issue bed frame.
All you can do is gasp with each deep, raw fuck. There are tears tracking lazily down your cheeks, having overflowed from your burning eyes, and you honestly think your lungs might collapse. Youâre bent like a fucking pretzel, in a way thatâs making the muscles in your thighs scream, as Ghost pounds into you.Â
Heâs fucking relentless, but also shockingly aware of you beneath him. He doesnât put too much pressure on you when he holds you, he never goes hard enough to hurt, and he knows just the right amount of weight to pin you down without being too much.
Your pussy is sloppy around him, wet squishing noises getting louder and louder as he finds more rhythm against your tight walls. Your whole world of awareness has been narrowed down to Ghost and Ghost only; his fingers digging into your thighs, your name in his mouth, his sweltering body pressing against yours.Â
Heâs holding back, you can tell by the way his voice is caught in his throat. Heâs keeping all his dangerous muscles at bay as he pulls out and presses in again. Rough, fast, but not enough to break you, just enough to make you scream until you bury your face to the side and try to cover your mouth with your arm.
âYeah, you needed this,â Ghost grunts, his uncovered mouth nipping at the hinge of your jaw. âThisâs why you were so fuckinâ distracted earlier, hm? You thinkinâ about how much you needed to cream around a real cock?â
âUh huh, yeah,â You slur out, not even sure what youâre agreeing with. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, every nerve in your body raw and sparking. You must sound so pathetic, but Ghost seems to like it.
âAinât gonna be distracted anymore, are ya?â He rumbles, laving his tongue over your jaw in a way that feels filthy. âJust needed your little pussy filled, thatâs all.â
You cry out for him because you canât help it, delight bubbling in your throat every time he plunges into you. He keeps his pace for a bit, all rushed and blazing, transfixed on watching you suck him in, leaving slick trails along his shaft. But gradually he gets bolder, more desperate, big hands squeezing from your thighs to your hips.
You get lost in the feeling of him in your belly, searing and harsh, fat tip rolling against the spongy spot inside of you until you feel like you might snap. You feel him in your ears, your head pounding with every snap of his hips. You swear you even feel him in your toes, lightning zaps of pleasure down your nerves.
Then he leans back, lifting his weight off of you so you can breathe properly. He leaves his hand on your collarbones like a placeholder, his palm spread over the base of your throat like a reminder, a way to keep your attention on him.Â
âFuck,â He grits out, âThatâs it, doll.â
Youâre vaguely aware of the fact that Ghostâs gaze has shifted, no longer focused on your face but now instead fixed firmly between your legs as he watches the thick shaft of his cock sink into you. He obviously likes how you feel inside; you can hear him cursing and grunting quietly as his free hand grips your hip for leverage.Â
With his mask rumpled up around his nose, youâre gifted with an incredible view of the way his teeth are sunk into his lower lip. Each time he sinks his cock into you again, he makes a raspy little groan, eyes fluttering briefly shut. Itâs so painfully endearing that your heart quivers in your chest.
Your legs burn from being spread around his thick waist â any attempt for you to lock them around his back is useless, your legs slipping everytime his ass flexes with his thrusts. Every hasty drive of his hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time he ruts into you. With every sudden movement you feel the entirety of his fat cock; the veins are throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. Part of you marvels how youâre even able to fit him inside you.
âNever seen you look like this,â he grunts. âAll fucked-out and perfect.â
Ghost leans in again, grips your legs so he can rearrange them over his shoulders, and you think you might die. The angle is different and somehow, impossibly, Ghost is fucking into you even deeper. You think you might actually be crying. Thereâs no question as to whether youâre drooling.
Your hands move to his arms, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his triceps as you cling on for dear life. He doesnât even seem to notice the sting of your nails scratching him; or perhaps it only urges him on, because his movements take on an edge of desperation.
âGorgeous girl,â He grits out, jaw clenched. âSqueezinâ so tight. Fuck. Gonna make you cream.â
 You had forgotten about his promise to make you come, too lost in the hazy pleasure of his cock. But now it seems as though heâs been seized by the compulsion to fuck you to the edge; he reaches a hand down so that his thumb can join the fray, and it startles you into moaning breathlessly aloud.Â
His thumb is merciless against your clit. Youâre vulnerable to his touch, clit spread and on display from the stretch of his thick cock inside of you, and he takes full advantage. His fingers are thick and blistering hot as he rubs at you, and you choke as your toes curl.
âSimonââ You manage to eke out before you lose the weak thread of your thoughts, scattering into nothing as he stimulates the stiff bead of your clit.Â
He grunts to show that heâs heard you, but he doesnât seem any more capable of words than you are as he rocks into the cradle of your hips. Youâre practically blinded by your wet eyes, blinking frantically to try and clear your vision as you reach out clumsily to throw your arms around Ghostâs blisteringly hot neck.
It feels as though your skin is stretched too tight over your body, hot and prickly and too much. Youâre trembling, your breaths coming in shaky gasps as agonising pressure builds in your lower belly.Â
âFuck, love.â Ghost says, his voice little more than a snarl. âYou gonna come?â
No, You think hazily. No, you never come. But even as you think it, part of you recognises that itâs never felt like this before. Your stomach tightens, toes curling, your lungs burning, your eyes rolling. You hardly even know whatâs happening.
You recognise that something is building, but it almost seems secondary to the way that Ghost is rutting into you like a man possessed, hitting that spongey spot in the back of your pussy that youâve never managed to reach yourself and making your legs spasm every time even as his thick thumb rubs frantic circles around the bump of your clit.
âFuck, fuckââ You wheeze, bucking your hips against him.
It doesnât grow and dissipate in the way youâre used to. Rather, it creeps up on you almost without you noticing, until youâre whimpering and clinging to Ghost like heâs a lifeline. Your bottom lip trembles as you sob weakly, practically on the brink of diving into an oncoming tidal wave of desire. Then that coil in your stomach snaps like a rubber band, sudden and sharp as a slap to the face.Â
Your back arches, your vision whites out, and you cum so hard that the world stops, your ears ring, your body goes limp. Your cunts sucks tight around him, pulsing, feeling every inch of him. It feels so sweet, that white-hot buzzing pleasure rushing over you and wiping your brain completely clean.Â
Youâre a little delirious from being stuffed with such a fat cock; every thrust just prolongs your pleasure, like his penetration keeps you from squeezing your very first orgasm out right away. Itâs mindless ecstasy, your nails burrowing into the skin of his biceps as you desperately clutch at him for some kind of leverage. Ghost doesnât falter, his hips continuing to work into you, wringing your orgasm out until you feel as though your brain is melting.
You sob â an actual, genuine, wet-sounding sob as your chest heaves for air and your eyes burn with overwhelmed, rapturous tears. Your head is spinning even as your climax subsides, leaving you limp-limbed and weak as Ghost continues rocking into you.
âLook so lovely when you come, sweetheart,â Ghost grunts into your ear, his bulky chest weighing you down as you clutch feebly at his shoulders. âGod, thatâs a sight. All for me, yeah?â
His praise only makes it worse, makes your eyes sting until thereâs tears down your cheeks and stars behind your eyelids. He sounds so smug, but you canât deny that he has reason to be. Heâs the first man to ever touch you, first man to ever fuck you, the first person to ever tip you over the edge and wring an orgasm out of you. Fuck, you think your brain might have been reduced to mush permanently; you wonder wildly if youâll ever be the same after this.
Despite the sting of Ghostâs punishing thrusts into your already oversensitive cunt, your body sings for him. The rhythm of his hips is getting gradually sloppier, as though he doesnât care as much for precision now that heâs succeeded in making you come. Soft, guttural little grunts fall from his mouth, and his arms wrap around your waist to reposition you so that he can fuck quick and shallow. Itâs almost tender, as though heâs aware of your growing sensitivity as you mewl under him.
Thereâs a profound, instinctual pleasure in seeing Ghost lose himself in your embrace. His dark eyes are heavy-lidded and his mask is still all rucked up, revealing the way his mouth is lolled softly open as he pants. You find yourself wishing feverishly that he had taken off his clothes too, because you think you would give anything to watch the roiling muscles of his chest and shoulders as he ruts into you.
Then just when you think youâre beginning to recover from the shattering, mind-numbing oversensitivity, Ghost comes inside of you.
He stops rutting to ride out his orgasm, his cock throbbing, pulsing, spurting inside you until you feel fuller than youâve ever felt. And he comes a lot.Â
Youâre stuffed so tightly with his cock that his cum has nowhere to go, and ends up leaking thickly from where your cunt grips around him, messy and hot and spilling over your thighs and his. The sound he makes is breathless, all open-mouth and head lolled back as he groans, blissed out as he finds release in your cunt.Â
The minutes afterwards are a blur.Â
You close your eyes for what feels like only a second, but the next time you blink your eyes open you find yourself feeling miserably, uncomfortably empty and sticky as all that oozy cum leaks out of you. You somehow missed Ghost pulling out of you, and your thoughts are muzzy and embarrassingly slow.
For a moment, you think youâre alone. Youâre becoming more aware of yourself, and you realise that youâre shivering weakly alone in your sweat-damp sheets. Where did Ghost go? Part of you, still a little hazy, wonders if he had left you alone as soon as he had come, and you feel your lower lip tremble at the thought.Â
God, you feel pathetic. You shift feebly on the sheets, and suck in a sharp breath when you feel the ache inside you, proof that youâre going to feel the shadow of Ghostâs cock for days. You feel drunk off the afterglow, yet youâre swiftly becoming more and more aware of yourself and all the aches and pains that are coming to the fore now.
It feels like youâre too big for your body, and youâre clumsy when you try to sit up. Pushing yourself up makes a whole new set of aches light up, and you let out a quiet keening grumble.
Youâre so caught up with trying to ground yourself that you jolt in surprise when big, paw-like hands land on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. âShh, hey, lay down.â Ghost says, the rough edges of his accent softened. To your bewilderment, he has a damp cloth in his hand; he went to the bathroom, you realise hazily.
Maybe itâs just because you feel raw after your experience with him, pulsing like an open nerve, but you sniffle and blink and then suddenly there are tears dripping down your face.
âThought you left.â You mumble, trying not to sound like a needy little idiot.
Ghost glances up at you, unblinkingly. His mask is fixed firmly back in place, and he looks annoyingly put-together; itâs an embarrassingly stark contrast to the way youâre still nude and shivery and teary-eyed.
âNo.â He says simply.
The damp cloth is warm when it makes contact with your skin, and you relax as he drags it along your sweaty back and over your legs. Heâs a little rough about it, but you donât think itâs on purpose. Gentleness doesnât come naturally to Simon Riley, and yet you can feel that heâs trying and that makes a warm glow settle in your stomach, replacing the cold anxiety that had settled in when you thought that he had left you alone.
When the cloth reaches the tender skin of your pussy, you hiss and try to pull away. It all feels too sensitive, and you feel your face crumple up as he wipes away the mess of slick and cum between your thighs. He gentles his touch as much as he can, but you still mewl at the electric zaps of oversensitivity that jolt up your spine.
When Ghost pauses and pulls the cloth away from you, you blink your eyes awake. Your vision is still all wet and blurry from tears, but you can still see the shape of Ghost as he stares down at you. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, even after having been cleaned up, and Ghostâs stare is burning.
You wonder if heâs about to leave now â you can recognise this whole thing had gotten out of hand, and you just about manage to stifle the panic at the creeping realisation that youâve just fucked your superior officer. Ghost must have realised at this point that the two of you had just ripped through all those fraternisation rules, though itâs always been difficult to tell what heâs thinking. But you trust him â you have to, in your line of work. You have to trust that heâll handle things.
Ghost tosses aside the cloth, and his big overbearing body climbs back into bed beside you. Itâs a standard-issue bunk, and yet it feels comically tiny when Ghost has been added to the mix. Heâs surprisingly agile, even despite his big size, and you barely have time to realise that heâs joining you in bed before heâs wrapped a thick arm around your middle, hauling you closer.
Youâd love to act chill and cool about the fact that heâs now essentially cuddling you, but you miss the mark by a long mile. You take a breath, and allow yourself to relax into his big burly chest. Heâs still fully clothed, and the rough texture of his jeans against your tender bare skin makes you shiver lightly from oversensitivity.
Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, your joints weak and watery, and youâre perfectly content to close your eyes and forcibly ignore all your concerns about fraternisation or how youâre going to face Ghost in training. Itâs a problem for another time.
âYou still alive?â Ghost grunts, and his palm coasts down over your back to settle at your ass, his fingers squeezing absent-mindedly into the soft flesh there.
He sounds amused, which makes you grumble in irritation. He takes up so much space, his big body filling up all the free space on the bed and making you feel so fucking small as he holds you so that your back is pressed against his stomach.
âI dunno,â You mumble, words a little garbled. âThink⌠think you might have fucked me stupid, Lt.â
Lying like this, with his front pressed against your back, you can feel his laugh rumble into you. Heâs touchy too in a way that surprises you; his hands are constantly moving, swiping over your sides and groping at any part of you thatâs squishy-soft.
âThink I might have,â He agrees, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even if you canât see it. âBut I think you needed it, sweetheart. You were practically cryinâ out for it all day.â
You feel your face heat at the insinuation that he had noticed the arousal you thought you had hidden so well. But you still feel so fuzzy inside, and you canât manage to drum up any genuine reaction.
Ghostâs roaming hand slips down between your legs, and you hold your breath as he reaches your swollen, tender pussy. His fingers are so big, but heâs aware of his strength and keeps his touch light, cupping rather than groping, his calloused palm catching on your puffy clit.
âTold you a real cock would be better,â He rumbles, and you feel the soft material of his mask rubbing against the back of your sweaty neck. âYouâve got a fussy little cunt â âs only gonna be satisfied by the real thing.â
Youâd love to jab back at him, but the feeling of him rough palm against your oversensitive clit has your thoughts fizzing out into nothingness. All you can do is let out a quiet little whimper, and rock your hips into his touch. To your utter bewilderment, you feel your arousal, which you had previously considered entirely sated, pulse back to life.
As if Ghost can feel your cunt throb beneath his hand, he snickers. âYeah. Fussy and greedy.â
He leans down, and you feel his lips brush against the back of your neck through the cotton of his balaclava. You quiver, and part your legs without conscious thought to give his thick fingers more room to work. Despite your exhaustion, and your soreness, and your sensitivity, you find yourself wanting. You wonder, with an edge of hysteria, if your body has somehow managed to rewire itself to only accept pleasure from your commanding officerâs hand.
âGhostâ Simonââ You breathe, your hips jumping as you grind into his palm.
âYeah,â He says again, as though he knows exactly what you need and want. âOne little orgasm wasnât enough, was it?â
âNo.â You choke out, throwing your head back so that itâs resting against Ghostâs broad chest. âNo, ât wasnât.â
You can hardly believe that your body is winding up for more, but Ghostâs touch is searing hot against your tender skin, and you can already taste the pleasure heâs going to bring you. This time, without the edge of urgency, you think you might even enjoy it more.
âGimme five minutes,â He drawls, his voice low and muffled in your ear. âAnd Iâll give you your second.â
#ahem... hello đĽşđđ#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod smut#cod mw2 smut#simon ghost riley x reader#cod fic#simon riley smut
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Stay Quiet
Yuta x Fem! Reader Smut / characters are 18+
Warnings: semi-public sex, hotel sex, sex with someone else sleeping in the room, titty worship, raw sex, creampies, squirting
A/N: Baby boy is backkkkkk _:(´ŕ˝`ă â ): since I feel like Iâve forgotten how to write smut⌠here is a smut imagine :D
Word count: 1.7k
âY-yuta~â
Your back is arching into him, hand slapping over your mouth to try and suppress your whimpers. Your boyfriend isnât listening to your quiet pleas, his head under your shirt, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.
His only response is stopping his sucking to bite instead, earning a sharp cry from your lips that you quickly try and smother. Beside you, the bed is rustling as Inumaki tosses and turns in his sleep.
Not even a vacation with long time friends in a shared hotel room with two beds would stop Yuta from having his way with you. So long as you kept quietâŚ
âYuta pleaseâŚâ you begging him, tone soft but labored as his hand tightened its grip on your side. Still, he didnât respond, mouth far too preoccupied to speak.
You could only imagine the mess he was making, littering your skin in bruises and saliva to make you his. Heâs always adored your breasts, both in the sexual and non-sexual sense. Sometimes he just needed to hold them, other times he needed to fuck them.
You never complained, not when he worshiped you the way he did⌠the way he was right now.
You could feel your eyes threatening to roll back, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud as his thigh pressed further to your covered cunt. You were soaked, Yuta could feel the dampness through your night shorts as they pressed into his bare thigh.
Yuta left your breast alone, kissing the bruises he left before turning his head to the one he had been neglecting. It sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, hand pressing to your mouth tighter as you couldnât contain your whine.
He nipped at your skin, just hard enough to leave teeth indents that would turn into pretty bruises.
Your hips jerked as he bite down on your nipple, pain and pleasure making you clench around nothing. Your cunt dragged along his thigh, too many layers separating you to gain any real satisfaction from the friction.
âA-at least fuck me, Yuta.â You begged him, hand slotting back over your mouth as he sucked your neglected nipple. Still, you were left with no response, nothing but his hips jerking against your abdomen told you that he had heard your quiet plea.
You felt him, hard and heavy resting on your abdomen, straining in his briefs. If it werenât for the sheer amount of body heat from being under the covers, youâd have been able to to feel the wet patch forming on the front of him.
Yuta indulged himself further, practically moaning as his hips rolled against you. âN-not fair.â You breathed, one of your hands coming down to rest on top of his head, not able to reach his hair since he was protected by your shirt. âSo hot⌠Yuta Iâm hotâŚâ
You knew it was useless, he wasnât going to stop anything he was doing until he was good and ready.
You could feel it though, your skin was starting to turn slick with sweat. So was Yutaâs, but that didnât seem to phase him at all. Not when he was lathering your breast with his tongue and whining as he rut his hips against your abdomen.
So needy yet so controlling.
It was a dizzying mix, being completely at his mercy.
Your hips rolled against his thigh, trying to create some sort of relief since he was purposely ignoring you. Three rolls of your hips and Yutaâs grip was tightened, stopping you from moving all together as he released your nipple with a soft pop.
âSo fucking needy.â
He practically seethed, pulling his head out from under your shirt to glare at you. âM-me?â You whisper yelled, face warm from anger and need. âYes you.â Yuta shot back, the anger on his face didnât concern you.
Not when you could feel his cock twitching.
âWeâre both needy, youâre just mean, Yuta.â Your lip wobbled, head turning to look at the other hotel bed. Inumaki had seemed to settle into a deep sleep, back facing the two of you.
âEyes on me.â
You shivered involuntarily, head turning back to face Yuta in record time. âIf I fuck you, you need to keep quiet.â You nodded eagerly, but Yuta wasnât satisfied.
âPromise me youâll stay quiet.â You felt your breathing stop, taking a moment to start again as you quietly whispered âI promise.â Yuta still seemed skeptical.
âI still donât believe you.â He mumbled as he began pulling down his briefs, just enough for his cock to spring free. âYuta I mean it.â You whined, hands rushing to yank your sleep shorts and panties off for him.
âYouâre never quiet, pretty girl.â Warmth flooded you, causing you to suck your lip between your teeth as your hips raised. Yuta helped you despite scolding you, tossing the two clothing items off to the side.
âIf you canât stay quiet, Iâll stop.â
You nodded, taking your vow to silence literally as his fist wrapped around his cock. Your legs spread further to accommodate him, cunt throbbing with the desire for him to be inside of you.
âTell me you understand, pretty girl.â
He froze just as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you further by prolonging what you needed. âI understand, Yuta.â And he pressed in, watching your mouth fall open as your chest rose and froze.
You were good, holding in the moan that was threatening to burst your lungs as he sunk deep. Your cunt had no resistance, swallowing his cock whole as he bottomed out inside of your tight heat. âGood girl.â He groaned.
Your hands found their way to his biceps, nails digging into his muscles as your legs locked around his hips. You managed to exhale the breath you had been holding, barely making a noise louder than a pant.
Yuta wasted no time, hips drawing back and snapping forward. Your head fell back against the pillow, mouth open as a quiet gasp left you. He was focused, head dipping down to watch where he appeared and disappeared inside of you.
Never mind being mindful of the noises you were making, Yuta had to be mindful of the noises your bodies made. Anything louder than the squelching and bed creaking and he was certain Inumaki would be waking up.
But it was hard to be rational when your cunt was suctioning to him, velvety walls begging to milk him for all he was worth. Heâd give it to you, no questions asked.
Every drag of his cock had you arching, scratching at his biceps as sweat dripped down your brow. You couldnât think straight, breath catching in your lungs every few thrusts as you tried to ignore the urge to scream his name. âK-kiss me.â You managed to choke out.
It certainly wasnât a whisper, the rustling in the bed over confirmed that. Yuta dropped lower, practically draping his body over you, hips rolling slowly rather than thrusting as he slotted his lips over yours.
Still, he was listening, silently praying Inumaki wouldnât wake up because dammit he was certain he wouldnât be able to stop fucking you even if he did.
âY-Yuta-â it was muffled, swallowed whole by his tongue slipping past your lips. You gave in, nearly melting into the mattress from his weight settling on you, the close proximity causing his pubic bone to brush your clit.
You felt it then, molten hot arousal pooling in your gut as he offered to the slightest bit of relief.
Yuta pulled away, saliva keeping your lips connected. âYou have to be quiet, pretty girl. He almost woke up.â You nodded, eyes so bleary and lips so swollen that he couldnât bring himself to really scold you.
Yuta found his pace again, hips smacking into yours and creating a soft slap that was just barely muffled by the hotel comforter. He was struggling to contain his own noises as your cunt clenched around him, one of your hands falling away from his bicep to sneak between you.
âRub your clit for me, pretty girl. Make yourself cum on my cock.â It was a whisper but it seemed to echo off the walls of your skull, rendering you completely speechless.
You did as he asked, hand slipped down to feel your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in face circles as Yutaâs cock stroked your sweet spot. âMake yourself cum on my cock, please. You know how much I love that.â
You nodded, mouth hanging open as breathless pants slipped past. They were quiet enough to not wake Inumaki but if anyone were to enter the room, it would be painfully obvious what was happening.
Yuta watched you, eyes torn between watching your tits bounce with each thrust and watching where his cock kept disappearing inside of you. It was utterly entrancing, making him gasp as his cock twitched violently within your walls.
âIâm gonna cum, pretty girl. Cum with me please.â
His voice cracked, face sweaty and flushed as he begged you so sweetly. It sent electricity straight down your spine, clit throbbing as your orgasm built. The thrusts got harder, a little sloppier⌠and louder.
Not that Yuta could care in that moment, he seemed to forget everything he had been drilling in your head as he moaned your name. You whined, eyes widening at the volume of his voice as your walls clenched again.
You were close, fueled by the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside of you. âCum with me, please.â
Breathless, you nodded, head falling back as you brought yourself over the edge just as Yuta did. His hips stuttering before burying deep, pushing against your cervix as he spilled his load in you.
You had barely registered the warm gush that flooded between your thighs, not until Yuta collapsed on top of you. âFuck.â You offered weakly, feeling the dampness on the sheets below accompanied by your sweaty skin.
âWe made a mess.â Yutaâs tone was sheepish, vibrating your neck as he spoke into it. âIt definitely reeks of sex in here tooâŚâ you felt your face burning, realizing there wasnât any windows open to allow ventilation.
âHeâll figure it out regardless.â Yuta sounded defeated but you could feel a smile on his face. âIâll take the blame⌠since Iâm the one who canât resist your breasts.â
âYou better.â
#banner from cafekitsune#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jujutsu kaisen imagine#yuuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuuta#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkutsu#okkotsu yuta#yuta headcanons#yuuta x reader#jjk yuuta#yuuta smut#yuuta x you#yuta smut#jujutsu kaisen okkotsu#yuta okkotsu#jjk okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu smut#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic
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jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul
in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post. part 2 | other bts members
âş bitchin - by @kinktae
summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.
âş idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk
summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesnât love in return.
âş hotter than hell - by @chateautae
summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason heâs unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer shouldâve been easy, if it werenât for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
âş jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien
summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your exâs lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first â all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong⌠then Jungkookâs ex shows up and all of a sudden youâre in a years long relationship with him. You donât mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
âş too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton
summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband canât say the same.
âş the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts
summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?
âş when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts
summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces
âş falling - by @starshapedkookie
summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.
âş love alive - by @jamaisjoons
summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brotherâs party.
âş changes in between - by @taegularities
summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change youâve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.
âş falling skies - by @fortunexkookie
summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.
âş sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild
summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. Allâs fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but itâs heart-shaped.
âş an abundance of mondays - by @diortae
summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? youâre disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course itâs complicated.â he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasnât just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.
âş five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash
summary: âTen dates,â he nods, smile tugging at his lips. âTen dates, to decide if you want this â want me â or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,â he says, oddly soft, âto fall in love with me.â Which then becomes five.
âş here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates
summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her exâJeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend
âş if i told you - by @gukyi
summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughterâs dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.
#bts fic rec#fic recs#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts angst#bts smut#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#taehyung angst#taehyung smut#jimin angst#jimin smut#yoongi angst#yoongi smut#bts fan fiction#fic rec list#namjoon angst#namjoon smut#hoseok angst#hoseok smut#seokjin angst#seokjin smut#bts masterlist#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#seokjin x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader
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I usually buy one stere of firewood per year, one and a half at most, but this year I saw an ad at the farm store promising a discount if you ordered 5 or 10 steres and I thought, well, I have a brand new wood shed, so let's go, five steres, why not!
Then a big truck came to my house and threw up this lava flow of wood in front of my shed and I realised that my mental representation of 5 steres, in terms of volume, was a bit off.
But that's okay! My friend D. was coming to visit. She's very convenient to have around in early autumn because she enjoys the real-life Tetris aspect of stacking woodânot only that, but she's uncannily talented at spotting blackberries, and September is blackberry season. (I do also invite her in other seasons so she doesn't feel exploited for her gifts.)
I was a bit concerned about the wood-stacking part of her visit though, partly because of the truckload of wood awaiting us and partly because this year's wood is completely shapeless and looks like whimsically sea-sculpted debris from an ancient shipwreck.
(On the left: the pretty logs that /I/ cut, which are shaped and easy to stack. On the right: the nonsensical wood that I bought.)
(My friend saw this and almost went on strike. She was like, "Not a single log has a shape that makes sense with the others... it sucks. That's not Tetris đ ") (Me: "Think of it as having reached a higher, more challenging level of Tetris." Her: "đ ")
On top of that, because of the cold and rainy summer we've had, blackberries were very scarce this year, like everything else. Brambles are so ubiquitous in my woods I used to think I would always get more blackberries than I know what to do with, but last month I actually had to go look for them which I'm not used to doing. Every fence is usually covered with blackberries in September, and in some parts of the woods there are hazel trees taken over by brambles so that blackberries are dangling in front of your face temptingly and you don't even need to bend down to pick them. But not this year.
I feared this visit would be quite disappointing for D. if the wood stacking and the berry picking were less fun than usualâbut the fact that blackberries were much harder to find than the previous years made her amazing berry-dar all the more necessary and appreciated, and she enjoyed our blackberry hunt. We'd get lost in mazes of giant broom bushes and I'd be like, let's go somewhere else there are no blackberries to be found here, and she'd stop dead and go, "Here!" And here they were!
I don't know how she does it.
One fun thing that happened is that at one point, while D. was somehow finding kilos of blackberries in a field I'd already searched two days before and which had seemed empty of berries, I wandered away into the forest to photograph some pretty mushrooms. Then I heard a strange bird call which, when I looked up and paid more attention to it, sounded more like my friend calling my name from afar. I figured I was being called out for getting distracted from the berry harvest, so I returned to the field. She was crouching down at the other end of the field with her back turned on me and didn't look like she'd just called me.
Half an hour later, when it was getting dark and we were about to go home, she told me, "Hey, did you have something to show me earlier? When you were in the woods." Me: "No, why?" Her: "You called my name."
...
Me: "I didn't call your name. You called MY name." On second thought, she said that it sounded quite shaky and high-pitched, not like my voice, more birdlike. Me: "I initially thought it was a bird too!" Problem: our names sound nothing alike.
We stood there mystified for a minute, wondering if there could be a bird capable of articulating both of our names, or if it was some other animal or thing that somehow knows our names. (We were quite sure there were no humans in the area, because Pandolf is very good at sensing nearby people and always wants to go say hi to them.)
We looked at the woods, then at my car parked nearby, then went, "Okay! Time to go home and never investigate this further đ"
My friends are a good influence on meâthere were people a bit concerned about my sanity in the notes of that post where I talked about going out into the woods at night because something was screaming, and I think they'll be happy with the moral of this story! We went home and sat by the fire eating blackberry tart and talked about what a great decision it was, all things considered, to not try to figure out what sort of creature wanted us to wander deeper into the forest at dusk. The end.
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My say || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: an argument between reader and rafe about having a nanny for your son.
Warnings: heavy angst!!! Mentions of breastfeeding
Word count: 1,283
A/n: I hope this kinda gvives you a better insight of what reader x rafe's relationship is like!! I AM SO EXCITED TO CONTINUE WRITING FOR THIS AU!!! send thru any requests you might have :)
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
âY/n, you canât be serious,â Rafe says, his voice laced with disbelief as he stares at you, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking. But your expression remains unyielding, eyes steady as you readjust Leo in your arms, his small hands clutching at you as he feeds. âIâm serious,â you say, your tone casual as you shrug, though the gravity of your words lingers heavily between you.
The tension in the room is palpable. Rafe scoffs, a bitter sound escaping his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. Without another word, he pushes himself up from the couch, his movements stiff with frustration. He crosses the room with purposeful strides, heading straight for the bar cart. The clink of the whisky bottle against the glass is sharp in the silence, followed by the harsh slam of the glass hitting the cart, the sound echoing through the stillness of the room.
âHe hasnât even turned one yet, and youâre already considering leaving him in the care of someone we donât even know?â Rafeâs voice is strained with disbelief, his eyes narrowing as he struggles to grasp your logic. . âWhat is this really about? You want more time for yourself? To get your hair and nails done, meet up with your friends, take boat rides?â His voice is laced with incredulity, each word carrying a mix of accusation and frustration as if he canât believe you would even consider such a thing.
âYou want to hand him over to a strangerâsomeone who doesnât know his little habits, his cries, the way he needs to be held to fall asleep?â Rafeâs words tumble out in a rush, his voice thick with a blend of incredulity and concern. Itâs as if he canât even comprehend how you could entertain the idea, the very thought seeming impossible to him.
You let out a soft, disbelieving snort, shaking your head. âAnd you do, Rafe? You think you know him better than anyone else?â Your voice drips with sarcasm as you meet his gaze, your eyes daring him to challenge you. âWhen was the last time you were the one pacing the floor at 3 in the morning, trying to calm him down? When have you spent hours figuring out his cries, trying to understand what he needs?â
Rafe stares at you, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. âYouâre his motherââ But before he can finish, you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. âAnd Iâm trying, Rafe! Iâm trying so hard, but it never feels like enough. I canât seem to get it right, no matter what I do.â Your voice cracks as the weight of your words hangs between you, the raw vulnerability in your tone cutting through the tension like a knife.
âIâm 21, for heavenâs sake!â you exclaim, your frustration boiling over. âIâm still figuring this out, and every day feels like a battle. Iâm doing my best, but itâs like Iâm constantly failing.â The words spill out in a rush, your voice wavering with the pressure of trying to live up to expectations that feel impossible to meet.
Rafeâs eyes narrow as he leans forward, his voice biting, âDonât sit there and pretend you werenât raised for this,â Rafe says, his voice cold and cutting. âYou knew from the moment your parents arranged this marriage that your role was to be a mother. They didnât raise you to chase dreams or find yourselfâthey raised you to bear children, to fulfill your duty as a wife. So donât act like this is some surprise or burden you werenât prepared for.â
You feel a sharp pang in your chest as Rafeâs harsh words sink in, his coldness taking you by surprise. For a moment, youâre too stunned to respond, the sting of his accusation cutting deeper than you expected. You roll your eyes, more out of defense than annoyance, trying to push the hurt aside. Exhaling slowly, you steady yourself, refusing to let him see how much his words have affected you.
âLeo will have a nanny,â you say, your voice firmer than you feel. âThis isnât up for debate.â The words come out with a finality that leaves no room for argument, though the hurt lingers beneath your resolve. âEnd of conversation.â Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, his frustration boiling over into raw anger.
âNo, he will not!â he snaps, his voice sharp and intense. âI wonât have a stranger looking after our sonâmy son!â His words are a burst of anger, his eyes blazing as he struggles to contain the fury coursing through him. You roll your eyes again, your patience wearing thin as Rafe's anger fuels your own frustration.
âYouâre being dramatic, Rafe,â you retort, trying to keep your tone steady despite your mounting irritation. âIn my family, we all had nannies before we were even four months oldââ But before you can finish, Rafeâs voice rises in a harsh yell that slices through your words. âThis is our family, Y/N!â he shouts, his frustration exploding into full-blown anger.
âOur family! Not just yours. We donât have to raise our children the way your parents did!â His voice echoes with the force of his rage, the intensity of his glare adding to the weight of his outburst. His voice reverberates off the walls, filling the room with a palpable tension as Leo starts to fuss.
His soft whimpers quickly escalate into full-blown cries, the sound piercing through the charged atmosphere. You flinch at the noise, your heart tightening with a mix of anger and frustration. âWill you lower your voice?â you snap, your own frustration surfacing as you hastily adjust your top, trying to soothe Leo by bouncing him gently in your arms.
Rafe runs a hand through his buzz cut, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh. His shoulders are tense as he plants his hands on his hips, watching you with a mixture of frustration and disbelief while you struggle to soothe Leo. âLook what youâve done,â you say sharply, your voice cracking with frustration as you glare at him. âHe was perfectly calm before you started yelling.â
Rafeâs eyes flash with irritation as he retorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. âYeah, yeah, blame it all on me,â he snaps, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns and heads towards the door, clearly ready to escape the charged atmosphere. As he walks past you, you reach out and grip his arm, the strength in your hold betraying your desperation.
He stops and looks down at you, his expression softening slightly as he registers the plea in your eyes. âPlease, just donât argue with me right now,â you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. âLeo will be better off with someone who knows what theyâre doing.â The earnestness in your plea hangs heavy in the air, cutting through the tension.
Rafe takes a deep breath, the anger in his eyes giving way to a more contemplative look. âI get to choose who the nanny is,â he says, his voice still firm but less harsh. You nod slowly, a quiet resignation in your expression as you release his arm, allowing him to leave.
#rafe cameron x fem!reader forced marriage au#drew starkey#rafe cameron#outer banks#fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#forced marriage#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe x oc#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#outerbanks rafe#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n
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just a taste
18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think itâs so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought itâd be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž:
eddie doesnât know who you are or why youâre coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.Â
âcâmon eddie,â robin pleads, nay, demands, âyou sleep on the couch most nights anyway, whatâs the difference?âÂ
âuh, maybe because itâs my room? i donât want some random girl in there touching my stuff,â almost flabbergasted that sheâs even asking.Â
âsheâs not a random girl,â robin frowns, âsheâs my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.âÂ
âtell her thereâs a great hotel in town,â rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
âiâll give you fifty bucks,â robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
ânow?âÂ
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, âpromise youâll clean your room.âÂ
eddie goes to grab the paper but robinâs faster, jolting her hand into the air, âand change your sheets.âÂ
âokay,â he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.Â
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.Â
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.Â
-
eddieâs sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesnât really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.Â
âeddie,â robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, âdonât be rude, say hello,â her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.Â
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadnât given his immediate shock away too much.Â
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.Â
two weeks on the couch didnât seem so bad now.Â
not if you were sleeping in his bed.Â
itâs just a shame that he wouldnât be in there sharing it.Â
âhey,â he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, âiâm- uh, iâm eddie,â offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as itâs done.Â
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.Â
âhey,â you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.Â
âeddie very kindly said you could have his room,â a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.Â
âyeah.. no biggie..â christ, heâs almost panting. âdo whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.âÂ
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.Â
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.Â
-
when everyoneâs home from work and youâve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.Â
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.Â
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only heâd find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.Â
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.Â
tonight itâs different, you get to pick.Â
and now heâs not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, thatâs actually exactly it.Â
you land on edward scissorhands.Â
not the worst choice you couldâve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.Â
in the end, it doesnât really matter what you had picked because eddie canât muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he canât help but wonder what theyâd feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesnât stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.Â
heâs practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.Â
âyouâve been staring at her all night,â she whispers angrily into his ear, âstop it, or next time itâs your balls,â a harsh warning he didnât find entirely necessary.Â
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie canât help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldnât pick up on.Â
he canât help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.Â
unfortunately for eddie, heâd instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if heâd only grow a backbone.Â
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddieâs not sure heâll survive.Â
itâs torturous.Â
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.Â
so close and yet so far. each night youâd tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course heâd made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.Â
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana heâll never get to know.Â
though more often than not heâs cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.Â
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. heâs safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. itâs late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.Â
eddieâs never done anything like this before. itâs disgusting, perverted to the core.Â
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.Â
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.Â
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.Â
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.Â
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
âwhat are you doing?â startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.Â
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.Â
âuh.. i..i-i donât know..â he hasnât done anything like this before, he swears.Â
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.Â
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.Â
âoh wow..â you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, âwhat were you gonna do with those?âÂ
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. thereâs no way you wouldnât tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.Â
ân-nothing i swear..â stumbling through his sentence, âi was just..â excuses fail to come to mind, âi was uhm.. looking for something,â the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.Â
âoh really?â reaching around to untangle them from his hand, âyou sure about that?âÂ
thereâs no anger to your voice, but he doesnât dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what heâll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.Â
âiâm- iâm sure,â though the crack in his voice gives him away.Â
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, âso you donât wanna keep these?â holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.Â
eddieâs knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.Â
âhere,â reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. âyou keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?âÂ
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game youâd started.Â
âgoodnight eddie,â you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.Â
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.Â
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace youâd gifted him.Â
you donât even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.Â
âoh and eddie,â robin begins, flashing him a stern look, âi donât appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,âÂ
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.Â
âtheyâre- theyâre not mine,â clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesnât dare look in your direction, terrified that heâd absolutely lose his mind if he did.Â
âwell whoeverâs they are, i donât care, stop leaving them on the couch.. iâm sure our guest doesnât want to sit amongst dirty underwear,â she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.Â
if only she knew.Â
eddie mustâve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose. Â
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.Â
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, âgnarly meal robin, thanks dude,â seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.Â
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.Â
-
eddie canât take it anymore.Â
heâs never been so pent up in his entire life. and heâs tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldnât last any longer.Â
but heâs careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.Â
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.Â
he wishes it wouldâve played out differently, that he wouldnât be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddieâs never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.Â
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.Â
âohh fuck,â he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.Â
robin wouldnât be too pleased if she ever found out what heâd done. and he canât really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.Â
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his noseÂ
he hadnât heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.Â
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
âfuck,â he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.Â
âyou want some help with that?âÂ
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.Â
itâs not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.Â
âokay?â maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.Â
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing heâd wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.Â
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isnât real. this isnât real. the voice repeats around his head though itâs quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.Â
eddieâs hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, youâd disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, âfuuck,â grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.Â
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.Â
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.Â
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.Â
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.Â
âoh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, iâmcummingiâmcummingiâmcumming,â eddieâs mouth rushes, louder than he ever shouldâve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.Â
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.Â
you donât budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.Â
eddieâs other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.Â
it should be gross. but eddie just canât find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.Â
âplease let me taste you,â he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, ânot now,â you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
âwell when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
âwhat time do you leave?â he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
âseven,â whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
âbut itâs your turn,â an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin. Â
ânext time,â only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson stranger things
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#vent#vent post#cw vent#cw vent post#i wanna vent but. i donât even know what to say#maybe iâll just go write something instead. like. fiction. a story.#get the pain out by putting it into a story instead.#it worked with Paralyzed. and it seemed to be appreciated by/helpful to a number of other people as well. maybe itâll work again#donât know if i can though. brain just wants to clock out for the rest of the day#but i canât vent abt this here cause i do that enough already and it just makes people feel sorry for me#i appreciate the concern i just. i donât want to drag anyone else down anymore#iâm the way that i am because other people couldnât keep their trauma to their selves. or deal with it in appropriate ways#so maybe iâm not any better than them if i keep subjecting people to all my negative emotions every time iâm upset#like. where does the cycle end. i feel like a container that people keep dumping their lifeâs waste in and i just have to. hold onto it#because if i go and dump it somewhere else then itâs just someone elseâs problem to clean up#what do i do with it all though. itâs making me sick.#how do i process it and purify it into something that can safely be put back into the world when i feel like iâm going to explode#iâm just so tired of the yelling. how loud can a humans voice even get jesus fucking christ#i donât know why itâs so terrifying. theyâre just words. i mean theyâre not. theyâre not baseless threats. ive learned that from experience#anyways iâm sharing too much again. i gotta stop mentioning so many specifics on this blog cause one day someone irl will find it#and ohhhhhh the fallout that would cause! terrifying#so i should. choose my words more carefully and be a bit less specific in these vent posts going forward#anyways. today was going great until i got triggered pretty badly again so. i guess i can kids the rest of my plans goodbye for today#iâve been productive for 12 hours now though so. good enough i guess.#still really wanted to be able to enjoy my evening and be Social but i donât think i can anymore. iâll try again tomorrow#i did manage to pack the work i had planned for the next three days all into today though so thatâs good.#helps free up a bit of my packed schedule for the rest of this month. hopefully iâll be able to make good use of the extra time#but knowing myself i might just squander it on something unhealthy and self-indulgent#whadaya want from me im just a tired little creature trying to survive in a harsh environment#so sometimes doing my best is ignoring everything and sitting alone in the dark eating pasta while watching ppl play shitty horror games
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