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Having played Emmrich's romance from start to finish I can say it does a shockingly good job of realistically portraying a romance with a significant age gap, speaking from experience as someone who once dated a guy in his fifties while I was in my twenties
Spoilers under the cut
So when you first start flirting with Emmrich, he doesn't assume you're being serious or doesn't even register it as flirting. Then he realizes what's going on and plays along with it. Then he starts flirting back, and uh oh we both acknowledged there's chemistry and now we have to figure out what we're gonna do with it.
Then you start dating. Or at least you're sorta dating. And your friends notice what's going on and immediately they voice their concerns. Are you sure this is a good idea? Happy for you but do you think maybe you're going a little too fast? Does the older person have bad intentions here? These are all questions the companions and even Hezenkoss ask in banter when you start the romance with Emmrich
And yeah when you first start dating someone new these questions don't seem to matter cause you're in love. You're charmed by Emmrich's gentlemanly ways, Emmrich likes the feeling of having a young person show interest in him because it makes him feel younger so he doesn't have to grapple with his mortality
But then as shit gets more and more serious and you near the end of Act 2, Emmrich wants to have a genuine discussion with you about the relationship. He's concerned that maybe this isn't such a good idea after all, because even though you both have the best of intentions, eventually you will have to deal with losing him and it will be decades before you have to worry about your own death.
And you have to ask yourself, is this serious or not? How are we gonna introduce each other to our families? Are you prepared to care for a sick/elderly spouse in your 40s and 50s? If you want to have children, are you prepared to handle having a partner who is already a generation apart from you and old enough to be your children's grandparent? How will it look when an older person in a teaching position is dating someone the same age as their students?
And for a lot of people these are serious obstacles to having a serious long term relationship! And discussions like that often do end in a fight like it does in Emmrich's romance! It happened to me in my relationship with an older man, too! It didn't work for me in my specific case but some people are able to work that stuff out, and in the case of Rook and Emmrich, they eventually do. But those are important discussions to have when you enter that kind of relationship
Idk man, the whole time I was romancing him I kept hearing the same comments my friends and family made about my relationship, the same arguments and discussions we had about the logistics of that kind of relationship, etc. etc. I figured they were just gonna go the route of indulgent wish fulfilment, and I was left slack-jawed when the game actually delves into the realities of dating in age gaps that large
#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#datv#datv spoilers#dragon age veilguard spoilers#rook x emmrich#emmrich romance#emmrich volkarin
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Watch It, Bub
Logan whips out his claws to scare off some creepy guy for you.
logan howlett x fem!shy reader - etablished bf/gf, shy reader, introvert reader, bookish reader, logan being protective, logan whipping his claws out, cute ending, some fluff, some angst, no y/n used, no reader description, sweetheart/darlin pet names used
a/n: inspired by @romanarose post about logan whipping out his claws at any tiny threat towards reader.
"Take your time, sweetheart. Iâll be just over there looking handsome," Logan murmured, brushing a quick, warm kiss against your cheek before stepping away.
You chuckled, rolling your eyes at his usual confidence, but you felt the familiar flutter in your chest as he headed to the other side of the store. You hadnât expected him to come with you todayâbookstores werenât exactly his thingâbut here he was, giving you the space to browse in peace, even offering to pay for whatever books you wanted. He knew how much this place meant to you.
With a small smile lingering on your face, you turned down the fiction aisle, your eyes drifting over the rows of books. The shelves were packed, full of spines in every color, each one a doorway into a new world. You felt at home here, surrounded by the comforting smell of paper and dust, your fingers grazing the covers as you searched for the title you came for.
But as you rounded a corner, your easy calm shifted. A man was standing a little way down the aisle, leaning against a shelf with a book open in his hands. His posture was casual, but there was something in the way he glanced up at youâquick, assessingâthat made the back of your neck prickle. His gaze lingered a second too long, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
You considered turning around, ducking into another section, but a voice in your head stopped you. Would he think that was rude? Why should you care what he thought? But still, your heart beat a little faster, and you could feel the edges of your shyness creeping in, making your movements a bit more stiff.
Taking a quiet breath, you forced yourself to keep going. You focused on the titles, searching for that book youâd been wanting. Your fingers tightened around the spine of a novel as you found it, pulling it from the shelf with a small, victorious smile. But before you could fully turn away, you heard him clear his throat.
âHey," he said, his tone almost too casual. "SoâŚyou into that author?â
The question caught you off guard. You glanced up, your brow furrowing slightly. âWhat?â
He tilted his head, closing the book in his hands. "Just wondering if youâre a fan. Iâve read a lot of their stuff. Thought maybe we could compare notes.â
His smile was meant to be friendly, but there was something too forward about it, too expectant. You felt your cheeks flush, the words caught somewhere in your throat. You hadnât prepared yourself for small talkâespecially not with a stranger who seemed to have taken a bit too much interest in you.
The manâs question hung in the air, and you felt a weight in his gaze, waiting, pressing as if he had a right to your attention. Your brain scrambled for something to say, but all you could manage was, âYeahâI mean, I guess.â
Your cheeks felt warm, an awkward flush creeping up as you struggled to fill the silence. You wished, just for once, you could handle moments like this smoothlyâcould just have a regular conversation without your words tangling on the way out. But another part of you bristled, reminding you that you didnât owe this stranger anything. You glanced down at the book in your hands, hoping heâd take the hint and move on.
Instead, he stepped closer, a too-friendly grin stretching across his face. âYou know,â he said, his voice dropping as if to make the conversation more intimate, âIâm always happy to give recommendations if youâre looking for something⌠different.â He reached out and touched your arm, a casual gesture that lingered a beat too long, his fingers warm against your sleeve.
A chill shot up your spine. You stiffened, pulling your arm back instinctively, but the man didnât seem to noticeâor maybe he didnât care. He leaned in, that smile of his edging from friendly to something more expectant, his gaze fixed on you as if he were waiting for permission to keep going.
Your heart sped up, the edges of your discomfort sharpening. You swallowed, feeling the prickling heat of anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You opened your mouth, trying to summon a polite excuse to leave, but the words died as a shadow fell over you both.
Logan had appeared beside you, silent as a storm gathering on the horizon. His hand came to rest on your waist, pulling you close to him. He didnât look at youâhis focus was locked entirely on the stranger, his eyes dark and unblinking.
âWatch it, bub?â Loganâs voice was low and even, each word laced with a quiet, unmistakable threat. âSheâs not interested.â
The strangerâs grin faltered, his fingers twitching as he quickly withdrew his hand from where heâd touched your arm. He looked between you and Logan, his smile turning nervous as he took in the hard line of Loganâs jaw, the clenched fists. Loganâs stance seemed to expand, filling the aisle. A faint, metallic snikt cut through the silence as Loganâs claws slid out just far enough to make his intentions crystal clear.
âIâuh,â the guy stammered, his eyes wide. âDidnât mean any harm, man. Just⌠being friendly.â
âThen back off.â Loganâs gaze didnât waver, his voice steady as steel. âFind someone else to be friendly with.â
The stranger held up his hands in a quick, defensive gesture, the color draining from his face. âYeah, yeah. No problem,â he muttered, taking a step back. He turned and practically tripped over his own feet as he made his way down the aisle, disappearing around the corner without looking back.
As soon as he was gone, Loganâs posture softened. His claws retracted with a soft click, and he turned to you, his expression shifting from deadly to concerned. He brushed a gentle thumb over your shoulder where the stranger had touched you, his eyes scanning your face.
âYou alright?â he asked quietly, his voice a low rumble of reassurance.
You felt a small, shaky smile tug at your lips as the tension slowly ebbed from your shoulders. âYeah,â you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath, but laced with quiet relief.
Loganâs eyes softened, his mouth curving into that rare, gentle smile he saved just for you. He kept his hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles over your skin. âCanât have anyone bothering my girl,â he said.
A soft laugh escaped you, and a gentle warmth bloomed in your chest, melting away the last of your unease. âI guess it was my faultâŚâ you started, feeling a bit sheepish. âMaybe I should have just walked away.â
Loganâs face darkened, and he shook his head firmly. âNo, sweetheart. Donât go blaming yourself.â His eyes flicked toward the empty aisle where the stranger had disappeared, his jaw tightening as if the man were still standing there. âHe put his hands on youâŚâ His voice dipped into a dangerous growl, his hand clenching briefly at his side. âI shouldâve cut off his damn arm.â
The words were half-joking, but his eyes flashed with something deadly serious. You could feel his protective fury simmering just below the surface, a fierce heat held in check only by his respect for you. It was a reminder of exactly who he wasâthe dangerous edge he kept hidden, for your sake.
You let out a small, nervous laugh. âWell, good thing you didnât⌠cut off his arm,â you said, glancing up at him with a soft smile. âI donât know what Iâd do without you.â
Loganâs gaze softened, his usual hardness melting into something warmer that seemed to wrap around you like a shield. Slowly, his hand traced down your arm, his fingers leaving a gentle warmth that lingered on your skin long after they passed.
âYouâll never have to find out, sweetheart,â he murmured, his voice a low, steady promise.
His words hung between you, carrying a weight that was both fierce and comforting as if he was making a vow he intended to keep with every fiber of his being. You felt a soft warmth bloom in your chest, and suddenly the world seemed a little smaller and safer, with him beside you.
You met his eyes, feeling your own shyness creeping in, but unable to look away. âThank you, Logan,â you whispered, feeling the words fall short of what you really meant.
He just gave a small, knowing smile, as if he understood everything you couldnât quite say. Then, with one last brush of his thumb along your arm, he pulled back, letting you return to your books, but not before giving you a final, reassuring nod that told you heâd be right there if you needed him.
#fluff#logan howlett#wolverine#x men logan#x men wolverine#james logan howlett#marvel#hugh jackman#logan x fem you#logan x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett angst#logan howlett claws#james howlett#logan wolverine#worst wolverine#shy reader#x men#x men movies
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Reciprocity
Pairing: Yoongi x afab reader (Kintsugi couple) feat. A Fine Line Couple
Genre: established relationship
Word count: 5.8k
Summary: A couples' holiday with Suri and Namjoon highlights a particular problem between you and Yoongi.
Content: one reference to self-harm (cutting) but discussion of scars, oral sex (f. receiving), discussions of sex life stuff?, i guess some poor communication, overheard sex
A/N: yes, it's me once again with my favourite characters no apologies. i have been thinking about this since maybe even before i finished the series??? and i'm glad to have it finally out of my head. this is unedited and unbeta'd, written by me in the course of this one single day and well, here we are. This is set in the summer, somewhere a few months after the ending of the series.
* * *
âItâll be fun!âÂ
Yoongi just nodded and continued carefully folding clothes and packing them in a bag. Â
âYou donât want to come,â you continued, heart sinking a little.Â
âOf course I do.âÂ
âTell your face.âÂ
He smiled then but didnât want you to see it, turned around to fetch underwear from a drawer. When he turned back, his face was schooled into something a little more neutral, polite.Â
âIâm not saying itâs my first choice of holiday,â he explained, âbut I want to go.âÂ
âGood, because youâre coming whether you like it or not!âÂ
You hopped off the bed, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then moved into the kitchen to prepare snacks for the road. At the advice of your therapist, you were taking Yoongi at his word: if he said he wanted to come, you would believe him and it was not your responsibility if he was lying. Even though it felt like it was. Â
A week in the sun had been your initial suggestion. Somewhere where the heat wasnât a curse, but a blessing. Clear blue skies and cool water. Peace. Unbridled joy where the real world couldnât touch you. Even you werenât entirely sure when it turned into a couplesâ holiday, but it was an idea that neither Suri nor Yoongi would ever come up with, and you werenât sure about Namjoon so it must have been yours. Sounded like the sort of thing you would say. Yoongi had said yes and let you do the research, find somewhere not too far away, easy to get to but far enough to feel new, to feel fresh. Â
He had been fairly tight-lipped about it since then. Got a little quiet when you brought it up, when you showed him tourism websites with activities laid out. He insisted he wanted to come but never quite managed to muster up the level of enthusiasm youâd hoped for. In a way, that was just Yoongi being Yoongi, but there was anxiety in you, too, and it was making you sensitive. You could see everyone hating the idea, hating the trip, having the worst time. The awkward silences, arguments about what to do or who should clean what. Namjoon had joked that he would have to force Suri to come and he had said it with a laugh but you knew it was true. Â
You turned your head and looked out of the car window at the increasingly green scenes around you and bit your lip. It felt incongruous somehow to not be happy and peaceful when the environment was so lush and bright with life. With ease. With a natural kind of solidity that had stood for hundreds or thousands of years and was still standing. You felt small and silly to be worried about this but it didnât stop you worrying. Yoongiâs hand found yours and, like it always did, made a warmth start in your heart. You closed your eyes for a second of intense gratitude and then turned to him.Â
âItâll be fun,â he said. Â
And it sounded like he meant it.Â
*Â
You and Yoongi arrived first, took the back bedroom overlooking the lake at Yoongiâs insistence because it was the better view. You had stopped on the way for groceries and you stocked the fridge, took out food to cook for dinner, since it would be about that time when Namjoon and Suri arrived. Â
The cabin was wooden and new, so new it still smelt literally pine-fresh. The sun was just starting to dip, dripping golden light over everything, spreading a thousand tiny diamonds on the surface of the lake. It couldnât have been more picturesque. It made you want to send a postcard for the first time since you were a child. Â You settled for texting photos to Taehyung who told you to stop messaging him. Your ripples of anxiety were peaking, anticipating Namjoon and Suriâs arrival and what sort of dynamic it would bring, how it might disturb the peace of this place. Â
Yoongi tore you from the window and asked you to start peeling vegetables. You were glad of the task.Â
â-t I donât want to be here, itâs just going to be weird.âÂ
Suriâs voice came from the hallway and you froze. So did Yoongi.Â
âI donât know why you keep saying that-â Namjoon - âitâs not as if weâve never spent time with them. You like them.âÂ
Suriâs hum in response sounded unconvinced. Â
You heard the kicking off of shoes, could follow their footsteps into the living room, around the corner from the kitchen where the two of you were hidden. Yoongi put down his knife and moved to go, intercept them before they said something you didnât want to hear, but you put a hand out to stop him. Your stomach was sick but you had to hear it. Whatever it might be. Â
âSheâs jus-âÂ
And they rounded the corner into the kitchen, stopped in their tracks when they saw you.Â
âHey!â Namjoon was the first to recover. âWe didnât know you guys had arrived already! Where have you parked?âÂ
ââRound the back,â Yoongi answered.Â
He was looking at Suri and you were looking anywhere but. Face burning with shameâthat this was your idea, that it was all your fault, that you shouldâve made you presence known earlier, that no one except you wanted to do thisâyou swallowed and smiled as brightly as you could.Â
âYou made it!â Â
Your cheer sounded forced to you; maybe Namjoon and Suri wouldnât hear it. Maybe they would believe you.Â
âPublic transport is a fucking nightmare,â Suri said with feeling. Â
âI told you we couldâve rented a car,â Namjoon replied as if they had had this argument already.Â
âIâm not driving in these hills! You should do it. Right?âÂ
You flinched when she turned to you and realised you had to answer.Â
âUh-âÂ
âYoongi drove, right? Literally what are men good for if not chauffeuring you around?âÂ
It was a lifeline for her, really, but you took it readily, gladly, anything to drive over the awkwardness and shame you were feeling.Â
âShe has a point, Joon,â you said, grinning at him. âYou could at least get a licence.â Â
Namjoon rolled his eyes indulgently, let you and Suri rib him a little more, smoothing things over at his own expense. You were deeply grateful. Â
âCome and help us do dinner,â you said, ferreting out more chopping boards from the cupboard, handing over knives and ingredients. Â
It would be fine, you told yourself as you diligently and with great focus, chopped an onion. It would be fine. It would not be weird. It would be fine. It would be fine. Â
*Â
It was fine. Dinner was cooked and eaten and cleaned up after. Drinks were taken on to the back porch, overlooking the lake, the heat lingering long into the darkness. It was not dissimilar to the other dinners you had had as a foursome. As long as you could forget what Suri might have been about to say, you were sure you could have a good time. Â
*Â
You woke the next morning, sun streaming sharply through a gap in the curtains. You rolled over, tucked yourself into Yoongiâs side even though you were already hot and sticky. You were willing yourself to fall back to sleep, even if just for a few minutes, and then you were sitting, eyes wide, ears trained. Â
There was no mistaking the sound of other people having sex. You grimaced, settled back down in bed and pulled the covers over your head.Â
âWhat?â Yoongi mumbled, not so much a word as a sound.Â
âCanât you hear them?â you asked in a stage whisper.Â
Another grunt from Yoongi. Then you felt his body tense, followed by a sigh and a sleepy chuckle.Â
âYouâre the one who wanted to come on holiday with another couple.âÂ
You whined, prodded him sharply in the chest.Â
âNot because I was anticipating this! Do they have to be so loud?âÂ
âThis place is not exactly well sound-proofed.âÂ
âI so donât want to hear this.âÂ
âGo back to sleep,â Yoongi said and he sounded like he was already halfway there himself. Â
âI donât know how you can sleep now that you can hear that.âÂ
Merely a hum in response.Â
You lay for a few minutes, desperately trying not to hear the only noise in the house, and then you gave up. Threw back the covers and went into the bathroom to shower. The rush of the shower might not exactly cover it but it would give you something to do. Â
*Â
âHey,â Yoongi greeted the other couple when they came out to join the two of you on the back porch, where you were sitting with coffee and fruit. âJust a quick request: could you please have louder sex? Iâve been getting a little too much sleep recently.âÂ
You and Suri both froze and you saw the blood swarm in her cheeks, red and hot. Namjoon just laughed. Â
âIâll see what we can do.âÂ
Suri swatted him harshly on the arm and he barely noticed, slung said arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissed her on the top of her head. If he felt embarrassed or awkward about it, it wasnât showing. What was it like to be so self-assured, confident, relaxed about everything? Even with Suriâs face still pink, her mouth pulled into a scowl, furiously glowering at her boyfriend, he looked easy, his smile gentle and eyes bright. You envied him. You still felt silly and embarrassed about the previous evening, and embarrassed about hearing them have sex; he didnât seem embarrassed at all to be heard. Â
*Â
Yoongi had insisted on washing up after breakfast. Didnât let anyone else so much as carry a bowl back to the kitchen. He was taking his time on it, deliberately, carefully, putting off what he knew could not be avoided. Â
He was rarely unaware of his own body. Vigilant at all times about its exposure. He had suffered years of summers under long sleeves and trousers, would suffer higher temperatures, more humidity if he had to. He regretted everything he had done to himself, but not in a way that prevented him doing it again. No amount of shame or embarrassment would stop him, it seemed. Not that it happened much these days, but the possibility was always there. Â
Even when he was with you, he couldnât let go. Even though you were sweet and kind and loving. Even though he knew there was a part of you that understood. Even though he could kiss your thighs where you had cut them and love you so much that it hurt, love your skin, love your scars (hate that you had them). Even though you kissed him, all over, generous and unsparing, even though you said you loved him, all the parts, every bit of him. He knew what he was and he found that breaking the habit of hiding himself was harder than the hiding had been in the first place.Â
With his task finished, and all the others he had made up for himself (cleaning counters, fluffing cushions, clearing the dryer of lint even though they hadnât used it), he had come to the point he could no longer avoid. He moved slowly up the stairs, towards the bedroom you and he were sharing; he stopped halfway up. He could see you through the door, left ajar. Â
Your bikini was floral, cutesy, every bit you. The smile formed on his mouth before he had registered the sight. Then it was wiped away because he saw your face: your worried eyebrows, lip caught between your teeth. Your fingers ran over the scars on your thighs; your face turned towards the window, from which point Yoongi knew you could see Namjoon and Suri, already out, lounging. He could see cogs turning in your head, first this way then that. Â
And then it wasnât just the scars. You fussed with the top, fussed with the bottom, turned in the mirror to check yourself from the side, twisted your head around to catch yourself from the back. You ran a hand over your face. You picked up a slip of fabricâsome kind of cover-up, a dress?âand held it up against yourself.Â
He knew he shouldnât be spying like this. He wanted to leap the remaining stairs and take you into bed where he would show you exactly what he thought of your body: your perfect, desirable, soft, body that he loved and loved to love. He wanted, briefly, to throw Suri in the lake and hope there were eels because he knew you were still thinking about it: last night. Â
He knew that it didnât matter much what he did because it wasnât that easy. It wasnât as easy as being told you were fine. He knew because you told him all the time but he still felt like there was something wrong with him. Â
He carried on up the stairs and knocked on the door as he entered. Your face was immediately bright, free from clouds, as clear as the sky outside. Â
âComing outside?â you asked as he moved in closer, couldnât stop himself kissing you just once, putting all his love into it, however brief, however small.Â
âYeah, just coming. You go ahead.âÂ
You nodded and skipped out and there was a deep tug in his chest. There was a pit of snakes in his stomach but, fuck it, heâd been bitten before. Everyone out there beside the lake knew him, knew what he was if not in full, lurid detail. He took a deep breath and fished around in the bottom of his bag for the pair of swimming shorts he had bought in a moment of madness and packed because he wanted to make the effort for you. He hadnât expected to wear themâthey were still fully tagged and pristine, ready for refundingâbut here he was. Â
He hadnât anticipated the difficulty. He sat for ten minutes at the dining table in the kitchen, willing himself to get up and go outside. His legs werenât all that bad, not the lower half. No one would care. Youâd seen them before anyway. It wasnât a big deal. He was telling himself all the right things but he couldnât make himself move because he was thinking about all the people whoâd seen him in his grossest state. Thought of the things some of them had said. Thought about their reactions. Thought about yours. Tried to focus on that. Reminded himself that it was you out there and his best friend. Suri was still a question mark but he also thought that she could go fuck herself if she had a problem with it because he was still prepared to fight her for potentially upsetting you.Â
âI donât know. Iâll go and see where he is.âÂ
Your voice floated over to him and that was it, the alarm call, the deadline reached. He stood from the chair and made himself move with he didnât know what power. Â
âHey!â you cried, arms outstretched to welcome him as he approached the group. âI was just coming to look for youâthought you might have got lost.âÂ
He smiled, let you kiss him on the cheek, direct him into a sun lounger, sit down with him on it, not quite in his lap but almost. Â
Suri raised a hand in way of a greeting; she was flat on her back, sunglasses on, straps of her bikini tucked away, her tiny body sizzling in the sun. Namjoon sat next to her, under the shade of a parasol, dug out of the cabinâs garage, book in hand. He nodded at Yoongi and kept reading.Â
âIâm going to go in the lake,â you said, one hand resting on his calf. âDo you want to come?âÂ
He was putting all his energy into not looking where you were touching him, not noticing, pretending that this wasnât the first time for he couldnât remember how many years that heâd not been fully covered in front of people. He wasnât sure what his face said, if his mouth said anything at all, but you were standing and holding out your hands for him so he must have said yes, let you lead him to the edge of the water and then jump in. Â
The water was colder than heâd expected. He gasped and swallowed a lungful, came up spluttering. He wiped the water from his face and pushed his hair back. He blinked the water from his eyes and each frame brought you closer, until your arms were around his neck and your lips on his. Â
âI love you, you know that?âÂ
He nodded.Â
âI love you, too.âÂ
âI know.âÂ
Did you? Did you really know the full depth and breadth of it? The way he loved you was desperate and whole. He had loved desperately before, loved anxiously, a long time ago when he still thought it was possible he could be loved. There were times when it terrified him. You terrified him because you loved him and it was impossible. Panic seized him and he wanted to run, run anywhere, get as far away as possible until you and your enormous heart were nowhere to be seen. Then you would call him or you would touch him and the panic disappeared, a low-grade anxiety in its place. Â
He hadnât realised he had given up on it. Before you let him kiss you, before you kissed him back and said things he never believed he would hear, he had retired the idea of being loved. It wasnât for everyone and it wasnât for him. He took what he could get and accepted that his lot in life was nothing more. But he met you and it hit him square in the face: that heâd stopped expecting joy. That he was fine because he never expected what he deeply and desperately wanted: to be loved.Â
And thatâs why you were terrifying. Because he was getting used to you. Getting used to being wanted. Getting used to the idea that he could be wanted. Sometimes he thought he was expecting it. Expecting you to let him in your arms, in your life. He had to remind himself that he wasnât owed anything, didnât deserve anything. It was the other way around: he was in debt for everything he had been given by you, for being given you at all.Â
*Â
They say if you canât beat them, join them. It was an expression Yoongi was apparently taking very seriously, as he slid his tongue down your torso, fingers already slipping through your lips, sinking deep into your soft, wet hole. Â
You were less keen to join Namjoon and Suri in being overheard so you pressed a pillow to your face and moaned into it, still louder than youâd wanted to be. You bit down hard on your lip as your back arched from the bed. Every time, it was an aria performed like a concerto, Yoongi doing the work of a full orchestra suite at once. It was lethal and moving the ease with which he played you and it was somehow never the same twice. Never had anyone spent as much time with his face between your legs and it showed: he had learnt, with apparent ease, seemingly everything about what got you off: had learnt how to do it in a rush, how to take his time, how to make you squirt (a surprise more to you than him), how to edge you until you wanted to die, how to make you come and somehow keep coming. He had, on one unfortunately memorable occasion, given you a charley horse and a third orgasm simultaneously. Â
You were approaching your second now, with sweat seeping into the bedsheets, and Yoongiâs tongue laving at your clit, his fingers rocking inside you. It was suffocating with the pillow smothering you, your hot breath making it damp, your breathing thick and swampy so it made you light-headed. You couldnât have kept any quieter even if youâd be able to try; all your attention and energy fell on the mouth at the apex of your legs and the fingers inside you. An experience so in-body, it almost pushed you all the way out again, like your consciousness was hovering outside your skin, alert and alive, an electrical wire in a puddle of water. Â
You came hard and gasped for breath when you pulled the pillow from your face. Yoongi kissed his way back up to you, sticky marks all over your sweat-wet skin. He was damp, too, tiny curls of hair stuck to his forehead, the T-shirt he slept in stuck to his back. You peeled it back, ran your hands over him, were reaching for the waistband of his boxers when he pulled away. Â
âIâll wash up and then make breakfast, sound good?â he asked, climbing out of bed and reaching for trousers.Â
The words died in your mouth. You could see that he was hard, see the discomfort in the way he adjusted himself as he dressed; you wished you could see into his brain. It wasnât the first time, not even the second or third and you didnât want to have the same conversation again, with another couple in the house, with company. Knew it wouldnât get you anywhere if you did. Knew he would not fuck you nor would he give you a real reason why not. You rolled onto your side, away from the door and pulled the covers around you, despite the heat, despite the sweat. You lay and you stewed and you wondered just what exactly you were doing wrong.Â
*Â
You tried to forget about it and it had been easy until you glanced over to see Namjoon swat Suriâs backside with his book, saw her retaliate by squirting water on him from her bottle, saw him pull her down in a tumble that was entirely playful until she kissed him. You turned away because youâd already heard enough, you didnât need to see their foreplay. Â
*Â
âDid you guys buy ice-cream?â Suri asked later that evening.Â
âNo,â you answered. âDo you want some?âÂ
Suri nodded.Â
âYeah, thereâs a shop down the road; Iâll go and get some. Anyone else want any?âÂ
âIâll come, too!âÂ
Suri looked surprised, her mouth open (to put you off), then she shut it and shrugged.Â
âOk.âÂ
It was quiet, initially, just the soft rush of wind in the tops of the trees and the slight crunch of the gravel track under your feet.Â
âCan I ask you something?âÂ
The rhythm of Suriâs feet faltered and then started smoothly again. Her answer was slow to arrive.Â
âYeah, I guess.âÂ
Embarrassment was worming through you, on its way to stifle you, to choke you so the words wouldnât come out.Â
âYou and Namjoon have good sex, right?âÂ
Suri didnât just falter but stopped completely. She looked at you guardedly, suspicious. You could feel her attempting to put distance between you, even as her feet kept still.Â
âIs that... ar-, weâre trying to be quiet,â she answered eventually.Â
You laughed not because it was funny but because you were nervous.Â
âNo, itâs not about that. It's... I mean, you do, right?âÂ
âYes.âÂ
You were stuttering over your next question, not having planned this conversation, not really knowing what you wanted out of it.Â
âDonât you and Yoongi?â Suri asked, beating you to it.Â
âWe do. Kind of. Yes, but also...âÂ
Your face was flaming, hot pricks of sweat beading in your scalp at the embarrassment of this, at having to ask someone about your sex lifeâsomeone that wasnât Taehyung anywayâsomeone who definitely did not want to be having this conversation either.Â
âThe thing is,â you persevered, âhe goes down on me, like a lot. Or not a lot but sometimes, well, often, he...â Â
Your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides.Â
âHe goes down on me and then we donât have sex and I donât know what Iâm doing wrong or why he doesnât want to fuck me.âÂ
You let it out in a rush, looking somewhere over Suriâs left shoulder because you couldnât bear to look at her directly, to see her face reacting. She was quiet for a moment or two and you stewed, boiling in your self-consciousness, steaming with shame. Â
âHave you asked him?âÂ
âYes, of course! He just says he doesnât want to or âitâs okâ or that I donât have to reciprocate or that heâs fine. But I'm not fine! Iâm clearly shit at sex! And blowjobs because he doesnât want those either!âÂ
And it was the embarrassment, mostly, but you felt tears burn in your eyes, felt your bottom lip wobble and as much as you did not want to have this conversation, you certainly didnât want to cry during it.Â
âDoes Namjoon ever...â and you couldnât finish the question because you knew the answer and didnât want to hear it.Â
âNah, if heâs even the slightest bit turned on, heâs doing something about it. Well, I'm doing something about it, you know what I mean.âÂ
You cursed softly, tried to kick at the gravel in your flipflops. Â
âI just wish he would tell me what Iâm doing wrong so I can fix it.âÂ
Your embarrassment, bright enough to have burnt away now, had left you sad, miserable in fact, that you couldnât please your boyfriend and he was being too nice to tell you so. Sad because you couldnât give him what you wanted to, what he gave you. Miserable that you were failing where you wanted to succeed.Â
âDo you ask him directly at the time?âÂ
âHuh?âÂ
âI mean, look, Iâm the last person who should be giving anyone relationship advice of any kind, ok? I really donât know how to do anything but are you asking him why he doesnât want to have sex right now, or have you talked about it at a completely unsexy time? Because Namjoon is barely sapient when his dick is hard; his brain is entirely in his crotch. Â
âLiterally the only thing I have learnt over the last year is that, as horrible as it is, you have to talk about stuff, especially when you donât want to talk about it. So maybe just talk to him again but- oh, I donât know! Iâm not good at this. But if heâs not given you a proper answer, make him give you one. You should at least know what the problem is, if there even is one, right?âÂ
You thought about it. Thought about how quickly you let the subject drop, let Yoongi brush you off because you didnât really want to have the conversation at all, didnât want to know the answerâor rather you didnât want to hear Yoongi say it. Â
You nodded, thanked her quietly for her help and you walked the rest of the way to the shop in silence. You picked an ice-cream at random and a random one for Yoongi, too, then you walked back. Suri tried to make conversation with you and you were grateful for it, for her. You didnât know if she liked you, found her impossible to read, and often got the impression that sheâd rather be anywhere else, but she was making an effort and it meant something to you.Â
*Â
âCan I ask you something?â you started timidly as you settled in bed that night.Â
âYeah.âÂ
You were quiet for a moment and Yoongi frowned, trying to work out what had upset you. You had been quieter than usual all evening and he wondered if Suri had said something to you; you had come back from the shop with two melona ice-creams, which you hated. Â
âAm I bad in bed?â Â
He blanched. Didnât really understand the question because you weren't. Not in the slightest. The sex he had with you was as close to perfect as sex could be. He sometimes felt deranged in how much he wanted you, felt dirty for it even, like it somehow besmirched your honour for him to think about you when he touched himself. Like he would contaminate you with his need to have you. It often took all he had in him not to fuck you.Â
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
Your mouth was pouty and your eyebrows drawn close. You didnât look angry for which he was grateful, but you were sad and frustrated for which he was not.Â
âYou go down on me all the time and then we donât have sex after! You donât let me reciprocate! I canât do it better if you donât tell me what Iâm doing wrong in the first place!âÂ
It was like static was fuzzing up his brain. He knew the words but couldnât understand them coming out of your mouth. He had thought he was doing the right thing. Giving not taking. Or taking only sometimes, but keeping the balance firmly tipped towards you. You always offered because of course you did: you were wonderful and kind and, for reasons he could rarely fathom, you cared about him. Â
âYoongi!âÂ
In a tone he almost never heard, genuinely annoyed, if also pleading and anxious. Â
He blinked, tried to find an answer.Â
âI donât know what you mean.âÂ
âOf course you do! It happened this morning! It happens at least half the time! I donât understand why you donât want it.âÂ
And his heart was suddenly hammering because he could see that he had got it wrong but he wasnât quite sure how. Colour drained from his face because you were upset, really, genuinely upset and it was his fault and if he could have squashed himself like a bug under his own shoe, he would have. Â
He tried to see what he had not seen, what he had missed, what maybe he had ignored. Could only see instead the times before, with other partners, when heâd try to initiate and be rebuffed, when he never asked for anything because he knew he wouldnât get it anyway and, besides, it was ugly to ask, to want, to demand for something someone else didnât want to give. He had spent so much time and effort learning his partnersâ bodies, trying to make up for everything he lacked. He knew he was good at it. Knew it, was sure of it. Wasnât he? Was it not enough? Was he still missing something?Â
âI do,â he said, voice hushed as though it hurt to say. âI do want it.âÂ
âThen why do you always brush me off?âÂ
He felt stripped like old paint. Had to look at you, though the embarrassment was excruciating.Â
âI didnât think you really wanted it.âÂ
And it sounded stupid when he said it out loud, really stupid, but it was the truth.Â
âWhat?!âÂ
You really needed to hear him say it again. That he didnât think you wanted it, even though you had explicitly asked. Even though you had sometimes tried, feebly, to insist. Â
âI...âÂ
But he didnât say it again, looked as though he couldnât. Looked as desperate as you felt. Â
âWhy do you think I would ask, I would offer, if I didnât want to actually do it?âÂ
âBecause you give. Youâre... Youâre nice to me.âÂ
âOh, fuck.âÂ
And you took a deep breath, tried to blink away the tears, sent them rolling down your cheeks instead. Â
âYoongi, what the fuck?âÂ
You saw him move, inch away just slightly, and you remembered who you were dealing with. Because he was Yoongi, your Yoongi, and he was warm and soft and sweet and funny and smart and you loved him so much that you forgot sometimes he still hated himself. Saw his denial now not of you but of his own desires. Remembered how long he had spent silently loving you without asking you to so much as hear a confession. Remembered how close you had both come to absolutely nothing at all, his disbelief overpowering his belief and his heart and his hope. Â
You could see it from his side. See what he was trying to do, even if it was madness. Even if it was wrong. You could feel him retreat even now, tucking himself back inside his tortoise shell. Â
âIâm so-âÂ
You didnât let him finish, would not let him apologise. You kissed him, tasted the salt of your own tears between you, leant into him, let your arms wrap around him and pressed your lips to his, to his cheek, to his hairline, to his jaw.Â
âYoongi, I love you.âÂ
âI know,â he replied, but you werenât sure if he really did.Â
âIâm glad you think I'm such a nice person and everything, but I promise, Iâm not offering out of the goodness of my heart. Iâm asking because I actually want to. Like, really want to. Like, really enjoy myself and want you to enjoy yourself and want us to both enjoy ourselves together, yâknow?âÂ
He nodded, couldnât quite hold your gaze. Â
âIâm serious. You need to know that I want to fuck you, ok?âÂ
And you laughed, though you were trying not to, even if it did feel a little ridiculous, having to convince your boyfriend that you wanted to have sex.Â
He nodded again.Â
âYou promise Iâm not a bad lay?âÂ
And you watched his face flick through shock and outrage and a kind of disbelief that become laughter. Â
âYou are not a bad lay, I promise.âÂ
âAnd what about blowjobs?â Â
âAlso good.â Â
âYou promise?âÂ
And you sat yourself in his lap, legs straddling his hips, sinking yourself low, pressing against him.Â
âI promise.âÂ
âWhat if I say you have to prove it?âÂ
His head cocked to the side, playful, squinting at you, and you didnât think that it was over, that he was suddenly convinced now, but with the burden of Being Terrible at Sex lifted off you, you felt not only lighter, but the deep, heavy, familiar drag of desire raise its head.Â
âProve it?âÂ
You shifted your hips again, deniably but definitely, and put your lips to his ear.Â
âProve that you like it when I suck your cock.âÂ
His hands gripped you tightly; you felt the bob in his throat when he swallowed as you pressed kisses down his neck and a stirring in his boxers that you sank even lower to press yourself against.Â
âIâll prove it if you prove that you like it when I fuck you.âÂ
âDeal.âÂ
*Â
You were late up that next morning and Namjoon greeted you both from the back porch.Â
âHey, a little request: could you maybe be louder when you fuck? Suri and I are actually sleeping a little too well.âÂ
#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#suga x reader#suga fanfic#bts fanfic#yoongi smut#bts smut#suga smut#bts fanfiction#kintsugi fic
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day after tomorrow is concert biting my arms off
#i made some stuff and i feel more prepared#i wish everything would slow down i feel so overwhelmed#autism be kicking my ass sometimes#feel so so so wore out#itâs making me all grumpy and sad :(#iâm so tired . ugh#traveling is hard in my body and brian#iâm rlly hoping everything will go smoothly#i rlly need everything to go smoothly. i rlly rlly do#it is nice i get three days off :) concert day and then pt day#and then one little extra day :-) itâs very very nice#and then i work one day and get another day off :3 im a lucky duck#took some days off for stuff#i am dead tired. gn
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We wonât be able to keep it up for the whole game, but damn, it was great streaming the first hour-ish of New Riven with my brother. Like old times with the CDs in the computer room.
We got to have the same reactions at the same time: huh, okay, so the telescope into the Fissure is constructed a little differently. And the spinny domes, right, their support structures look all weird nowâ oh, hold on, you can just go straight there? Right on Temple Island, just from the rotating beetle room? Huh. Okay. Might as well flip it, itâs a fun animation. Oo, looks different! Letâs take a look insiâWHAT.
Okay. Okay. Ignoring the [massive spoiler] for now, it looks like thereâs one other island we can get to from here. So⌠letâs go see which one it is!
⌠W H A T.
#myst#riven#riven remake#please insert disc 5#I love the puzzle changes so far#and the changes to the environment of the islands#they feel a lot more precarious and seismically active now#like stuff has been broken and repaired and rebuilt several times#aesthetically though⌠OG Riven has this version beat#this remake doesnât quite capture the intimate loneliness of the original#part of that is that some of these changes are meant to give you a better understanding of WHAT is GOING ON#which is good from a game design perspective#example: thank you Atrus for actually telling me what this book is#and what you want me to do with it#but like. the experience of Riven is the experience of feeling lost#feeling confused#feeling like there are life-and-death stakes going on around you and you know less about it than anybody#this version of the game treats you more like the protagonist#but OG Riven made you feel like a bystander whoâs been thrust into the action with insufficient preparation#and I liked that
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just finished the interview and omg it was kinda bad maybe. im sick
#purrs#it was probably a lot better than i thought but i wasnât prepared for some of the questions and in other questions i was regurgitating shit#thst other ppl have said and. AUGHHHHH i stumbled over my words and saw their eyes glazing over at one point. exploding and dying.#good god. this is truly fucking hell. TRULY. i sounded so rambly LOLLLLL KMS#and i have to go up in the office when theyâre done talking. feel like im being gutted like a fish. when this happened last year i was at#home today i have to be in the office with the same people who just interviewed me with my life on the line đđđđđđđ help.#i didnât prepare at all i just went into it sayjngiâll be fine and i aready know this stuff bc itâs the job ive been in and it was made for#me and ige made it. but. đđđđđđ i didnât answer anything well like i did not feel confident about one single answer. exploding and dying.#and i might have to do more interview shit too like this might not even be it. they could drag it out and send me to hell. good GODDDDD!#like why did i have to go through this im literaly IN THE JOB WHY ARE YOU SCARING ME. FUCK!!!!!!!!!#i felt good about the interviews last year too đđđ i shouldâve prepared im so stupid.
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auuudggghghhrhrhrbrr
#okay Iâm feeling Bad and I need to unpick why before Iâll be able to sleep#friend is asking abt lunch on Friday when I already have standing commitment w other friends then so I canât do that.#but I also go home on Sunday and I canât do shit until Friday bc work and I have plans on Saturday so I just. canât see them#which. I guess makes things easier actually thatâs not something I can control and Iâm not changing existing plans thatâs unfair#Iâm also listening to a playlist of old music (Apple Music generated favourites â so literally random picked from everything Iâve ever done#and the last few songs have made me feel Bad bc of being associated with certain times but song playing rn is definitively a good song#w a good memory attached and itâs MY song not one of my old friends#okay where are we#Iâm stressed abt presentation on Thursday but also a non issue. Iâm prepared. I have all day tomorrow to practice and read up more#and then itâs 20 minutes on Thursday morning Iâll be done before 10am#I am. a little frustrated on a broader scale about the role Iâm currently occupying#in that w a bunch of my friends Iâm having to be the one with their shit together and dealing with their Stuff.#mostly in the way that I have to be putting in extra effort to tiptoe around them and steer stuff to keep them happy#i can do it i can do it easily Iâve just tasted not having to now so itâs. noticeably different having to do it more#i do Not have the words to talk abt this in the way I want to itâs so annoying#itâs like. I know how my friend responds to stuff. I know the things that make her anxious and what her instinctual responses will be#and Iâm constantly having higher level thoughts planning out how things will go itâs effortless and constant itâs just There#with everyone all the time but sometimes I use it more and sometimes I have to because Iâm in a position where if I donât weâll get nowhere#and I donât like that Iâm having to worry abt keeping other people happy while Iâm talking to my friends it removes me a layer from stuff#hrm. there are broader questions here abt the utility of this bc like. sure it helps in some situations#but this probably isnât great long term for either of us. wild. goddamn talking to my friend abt philosophy opened new parts of my brain#anyway I cba to have those thoughts rn! itâs midnight! Iâm going to bed in half an hour <3#itâs honestly unfair that I have to do anything other than be gay and play pokemon#luke.txt#uaUrghrhfhjs Iâm also being insane abt a guy. which is predictable and I feel stupid abt for multiple reasons but. here we are.#Iâm being insane. and maybe I should be less mean to myself but I feel like Iâm being insane.#I think! I need to go to bed!#I am not being insane I am having feelings and that is allowed. feelings are typically regarded as a pretty normal thing to have.#philosophy friend is gonna be so mad at me if anything comes of this but itâs fine and if it does I think Iâll be pretty happy anyway#point is Iâm doing nothing wrong and have done nothing wrong and Iâm allowed to feel whatever the hell I like. okay.
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Regarding Pattison not happening, I actually think there's a good chance we're right that it wasn't Valerie Armstrong's choice. I saw an interview with her (wish I could find the link) where she alludes to choices she would have made differently. She also seems to regret AMC, saying it wasn't accessible to enough people; it turns out they picked her script out of the blue and wanted to make the show. Otherwise I imagine she would have gone somewhere else and we would have gotten Pattison.
first off, I just have to say, what a funny feeling it is to me, to get an ask about pattison in the year 2024. nothing bad, just, like, for context, if you don't know this about me... I was a fan of KCFH from the literal beginning, heard about it shortly before it started airing and liked the concept, watched every episode as it aired (which is pretty unique for me, i rarely get into a fandom From the Start like that), and I was a big champion of it, spreading the word, because I looooooved season 1. i got a lot of people (relatively speaking) into the show and ran a memes account on twitter... I was a #pattison truther the whole time. and so i was wicked hyped for season 2, had a good time with it even if it was a bit short of my expectations even before the finale, but the finale really just pissed me off because I felt like, wow, I loved this show so much and was really hoping at least, it would give me one piece of vindication from a middling season 2. so I have barely thought/posted about the show since that period right after the finale, because it disappointed me more than any other show, maybe, ever has. (that doesn't mean it was the WORST finale i've ever seen, far from it, but it disappointed me the most because I cared so much about the show, and also because so much of it felt like it just fell short of being so much better.)
ANYWAYS... if you do find the link to the interview you're talking about let me know. no pressure but it intrigues me. I haven't read a single interview with Valerie (or anyone else who worked on the show) since the immediate aftermath of the finale, since that interview where Valerie said it was the right choice to not go for pattison and how they were "romantically alone but fine" (ugh). so if she hypothetically has gone on the record with a different sentiment about it, not defending it, then i'm interested.
because. i recognize most of this is parasocial and just my desire to believe that I did see some Pattison Truth and wasn't dumb to believe it the whole time, so I need to believe in a Person who represents that Truth and wanted it to happen while other forces prevented it, and Valerie is a convenient person to imagine in that role both as the creator of the show & a bisexual woman who spoke openly about the queer parts of the story she was telling. I recognize that I will probably never know for sure what happened behind the scenes and to what degree pattison endgame was ever on the table or not. But i do feel the urge to believe it is true. so if there's evidence that supports it, lol, i'm interested. (for the record, if there's evidence that WEAKENS this theory i'm also interested in that. lol) i just do not have it in me to go looking for it, because, as I said, I gave so much of my head & heart to this show and it felt so bad after the finale that I just cannot go down the road of spending conscious waking hours thinking about it again, because it just makes me sad.
#kcfh#ask#anonymous#listen i need to prepare myself for if i ever meet val one day.#first off to act normal#second off to find a natural not-loaded way of asking if she will share What the Hell Happened with pattison#cuz i have heard Some Things. about what went down...#but. yknow. hearsay.#its tough to piece together what may or may not have happened from cast & crew who have spoken on the matter...#and those who have NOT spoken...#fwiw i really doubt it was AMC standing in the way of hypothetical pattison endgame.#AMC is not exactly known for being queerphobic i mean. look at some of their other stuff...#orphan black. killing eve. interview w the vampire. orphan black echoes. probably more thats just from the top of my head#i really really doubt AMC was an issue with that. i think its more likely IF there were obstacles to it then they were probably the opinion#of people working on KCFH itself#also this is besides the point but like#i really doubt she had other networks bidding to make this show#no shade to the show bc i LOVE IT#and the pilot she wrote was AWESOME#but it's a hard sell!#and val being a first time show creator with only a few seasons in a writers room... i would GUESS AMC may have been the first/only offer.#but who knows. maybe her agents are incredible.#maybe there WERE other bids.#either way she achieved the literal fucking dream as a TV writer#selling a cool original pilot you're passionate about and getting to make it + be in the room (even if not as showrunner)#that is something to be super proud of no matter what.#but also in my Parasocial vision⢠of her i feel so bad if the real show fell short of her Dreams of Pattison Endgame#so bittersweet (for this fantasy version of a real woman that i've made up in my head)
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not to keep harping on this but if you HATE shaving your body or any other part of your "beauty routine": stop doing it. just stop doing it, at least for a little while (maybe when you don't have a lot going on if that helps) and HONESTLY gauge how it makes you feel. is this feeling better or worse than the amount of time, stress, and money the routine takes? do YOU actually prefer how you looked before, or are you only worried about what others think? if you stopped doing the routine forever, could you find other ways to feel better about yourself with that energy?
when I was like 19 and the idea of not shaving my legs anymore first occurred to me (bc I had a Cool Progressive Boyfriend that Didn't Care) i just stopped and it was immediately like... a quantifiably large chunk of unnecessary anxiety just sloughed off my life forever. instantaneously I got rid a bunch of effort and stress I had been accepting as normal, and replaced it with more time to do what actually made me feel 'ready' in the morning, like hygiene, coffee, preparing for my activities etc.
and i DONT feel self conscious about body hair personally but even if I did, no amount of shame over hair could outweigh how much easier my life is. not just bc 'shaving annoying' or 'long showers' or whatever, but like. yeah I don't waste as much time getting ready anymore, and I also don't have to realize last minute before some leg-showing event that im unfit for display and have a whole self-esteem plummeting anxiety attack about whether I should rush it unsafely and risk being late, cut up, and stressed out before the event, or go With Hair and feel judged the whole time. i don't have to go through any of those emotions and when anyone does comment on my hair rudely, im in a much healthier place to deal with it and tell them to fuck off rather than validate THEIR fucked up standards by feeling bad.
once I realized I didn't give a shit and neither did anyone I cared about, it also gave me the freedom to cut out a bunch of other shit I was only doing (or Thinking I Should) bc it was what girls Have To Do to be presentable. fuck shaving fuck waxing fuck eyebrow shaping fuck concealer fuck multi step skincare fuck shapewear fuck lip fillers fuck contouring fuck teeth whitening fuck all of it, you do not need to change ANYTHING about how you look Every Single Day.
for those of you about to say "but I like being shaven/wearing makeup/literally pulling hair out of my face painfully every day etc etc etc":
have fun and mod your avatar all you want but for gods sake if you hate it and complain about how long it takes and all the stuff you "have" to buy or do just to "get ready" - you do not have to. you're not just having fun. you are not getting Ready, you are making your mood and experience worse for yourself, which is going to make you feel unready and unprepared for actually being yourself comfortably.
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despicable
updates as of 22 oct
Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotesâ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.
âYou donât really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but thereâs some people who took some positive things from it,â Dermott said. âThatâs kind of what Iâm looking to impact.
âYou want to have everyone feel included and thatâs something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. Itâs not like I just just jumped on this train. Itâs something that Iâve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.â
âI wonât lie,â said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. âFrom the outside, itâs easy to see that Iâm putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but Iâd love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.
âI donât want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when itâs their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. Iâm not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but weâre going to find better ways to do it.â
As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.
âIâd be lying if I said I havenât shed tears about this on multiple occasions,â he said. âSo yeah, itâs something Iâm definitely very passionate about.
âIâve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that thereâs some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesnât take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.
âIâve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and itâs because of a system that maybe no oneâs intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until youâve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, itâs tough to kind of take steps.â
It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.
âItâs not like Iâm shutting up and going away,â he said. âI know more questions are going to be coming. Weâre just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. Thatâs the thing. Itâs gay pride that weâre talking about, but it could be menâs health. It could be any war. Itâs just wanting world peace. Everyoneâs got to love each other a little bit more.
âLike my parents said growing up, âHow awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?â Thatâs what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy thatâs having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, thatâs going to have an effect on you.
âWith how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that itâs not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.â
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I ran out of tag space but oomf had some good notes
smthn easy for today (sorry)
#Kronos is the worst dad no. 1#I remember that fic where he made it obviously that Acronix was unwanted until he found out he's the master of time too đ#<- prev tags#prepare for a whole rant that doesnt make sense from me#its not really a hc BUT in my brain the time twins are the first and only time in ninjago history that a power has been used by two people#so when krux was born first... kronos just assumed he was the only one to get time. this is coupled with the fact hes a faster learner than#acronix. so he was the first one to actually present the power of time. i think nix finally did YEARSSS later but until then he was seen as#a bit of a failure... my son who is very smart and has this strong power ... and then my other child who never listens to me and is weak#(acronix having adhd and being treated like a bad child because he presented undesirable traits... yeah)#and because of this there was quite a bit of animosity between the twins. even though they loved each other. nix was very very jealous of#krux for soooo many things. krux was treated better and it wasnt like it was *his* fault .. they were KIDS !!! but when youre a child angry#at the world... its harder to express that anger to the adult causing you harm vs someone on more equal ground to you. if that makes sense#'i will not yell and scream at my warrior father but i will refuse to play games with my brother' . obvs this didnt last forever but yknow#neither of the brothers were really able to be who they wanted to be. they couldnt really express themselves properly. but krux was always#able to mask better than acronix. so a bigggg part of that jealousy is also misunderstanding. like krux isnt happy either but when youre a#child its hard to clock how others feel. idk. and then after nix was discoveres to be a master of time .. straight to the grooming to be#child soldiers !!! the culture 60 years ago in ninjago was veryyy different. during the serpentine war i imagine most of the elemental#masters to be 20 ish ? some in their 30s but they had been elemental masters for basically MOST of their lives#esp wu and garm... they grew up and had to fight and never really had that time to be kids. which is how i like to imagine the time twins#theres a lot of parallels between those 4 and i want to gif their fight bc i realized that nix kept looking to krux like 'what do we do'#time twins are very codependent on each other. wu and garm rapidly aged when they were separated. etc#dont think nix couldve lasted those 40 years without his brother. krux takes big brother leading the way to the next level#3 minutes apart !!! but you wouldnt be able to tell that bc they act years apart. well prior to them actually being years apart#the way krux was piloting the iron doom and nix was the co pilot. the plan to go back to the past. nix just going along with stuff#hes more prone to stick to a plan krux makes than krux is to stick to a plan nix makes ... which is kinda canon#like how krux sent the snaks to destroy the borg store (veering off the plan) vs nix who kindaaa needs his brothers leadership or he'll die#in my version of s7 krux gets sent to the time vortex and then acronix is the one waiting years and years. ALSO FUCKKK smthn i realized :#wu isnt really one to hold a grudge like that and so i find it interesting that he WAITED for acronix at the monastery#like for morro and aspheera . they came to wu. vs wu who came to acronix to finish what the twins started all those years ago#thinking about how the time twins were heroes at one point. thinking about how the ninja didnt recognize them in the painting. thinking abt
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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, inexperienced!reader, first time blow jobs, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, riding, jealous ghost, some communication issues!
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
The problem with sleeping with a man like Ghost, youâre coming to realise, is that now that youâve experienced the reality of sex (and good sex) you canât stop thinking about it.
In the week following the night youâd spent together, you swear you can feel his phantom touch on your hips, your thighs, your back. It feels like heâs carved a space for himself inside of you, something youâll never get back â not that you want it back in the first place.Â
Realistically, you know that the whole âloss of virginityâ thing doesnât have as much to do with how youâre feeling as the fact that it was Ghost who had taken it. You had long bullied your hymen out of the way with your collection of silly dildos, but nothing could have prepared you for the scorching hot heat of Ghostâs massive cock splitting you open, or his clever tongue licking at you, or his thick calloused fingers rubbing torturous circles into your clit and fraying your nerves apart.
The worst part is, you donât know if anything is ever going to live up to the way he made you feel again. Youâve tried to replicate his touches, his rhythm, the way he had split you open, but your fingers are too small and none of your dildos can imitate the way he had worked you stupid. To your immense dissatisfaction, you donât even come close to coming again.
It feels like something inside of you has cracked open, and you donât know how to stop all of this new yearning, how to stuff it all back inside and pretend that nothing has changed.
The problem is that while you feel as though youâve been changed from the inside out, you donât think Ghost feels the same way. Maybe the most infuriating thing is that Ghost seems entirely unaffected. Other than a couple of lingering glances and knowing stares, thereâs no indication that he had done anything more intimate with you than grappling at training.Â
All you can do is attempt to follow his lead, to be as casual as possible.
Itâs harder than it sounds.
You find your whole body straining towards him when heâs close to you, though you try to keep cool. You fail miserably. You canât even look in Ghostâs direction without thinking of his big fingers hooked inside you, rubbing at your clit, squeezing at your tits. You can hardly look him in the eye without thinking of the way he looked when he was squeezed between your thighs with his mouth on your cunt, the way those big brown eyes watched as you writhed on his tongue.
And yet, you can hardly tear your eyes away from him. You look at him in a completely different light now. Heâs the first man to take you, the first one to touch you so intimately, the first one to make you come. Heâs still your lieutenant, but itâs like all of a sudden your eyes have been opened to a new aspect of him. Heâs no longer just your untouchable superior, the man whoâs always so cold and distant behind that death mask â now heâs the man who was gentle with you, the man who kissed you sweetly when he took your virginity, the man who gave you the first, second, third orgasm of your life.
But despite the way you had been offered that new little glimpse into Ghost, he still remains an enigma to you.Â
You can feel his eyes on you throughout the week, though itâs never at the same time as when youâre looking at him. And maybe youâre imagining it, but it seems as though heâs gotten freer with his touches, too. A big palm on the small of your back as he steps past you, a quick squeeze to the shoulder. Itâs subtle, and you canât be sure that heâs actually touching you anymore than usual.
But other than the subtle glances and the light touches, Ghost doesnât make any genuine effort to approach you again. He still treats you like just another member of the squad, no different to Soap or Gaz.Â
If anything, he gives them more attention than he gives you, delivering his deadpan jokes and exchanging quips during training. You end up standing to the side, sending infrequent glances their way in the hopes that heâll give you something.
Youâve never been the fittest or the strongest, but your level of distraction in those few days following your night with Ghost is absolutely mortifying. Youâre slow, youâre clumsy, you mess up everything.Â
You donât think you can be blamed when youâre working in the same space as Ghost. You can hardly bring yourself to look his way when heâs lifting weights, unable to handle looking at the flex and curl of his muscles under his long-sleeve black workout shirt. It clings to him, letting you see every little shift of muscle and tendon beneath that stupid top as he works, and your mind very unhelpfully provides a slideshow of memories of him between your spread thighs.Â
You know itâs obvious. You glance at him, then glance away, then back again. Your eyes linger, bright and too interested, before youâre able to hide it. You wonder sometimes if your yearning is obvious on your face; you hope not.
But if Ghost sees it â any of it â he gives no indication.Â
If you have to be honest with yourself, youâll admit that youâre disappointed. You had hoped thatâ well. Youâre not sure you can bear to admit what youâd hoped, even just to yourself. It feels silly to admit that maybe you had hoped that Ghost wouldnât be content with just being your first, that maybe heâd want to be your second, your third. Silly. Almost blasphemous.
You donât technically have to show up to training, so after only two days of your awkward and uncertain pining in the gym, you stop showing up. The role you fulfil as part of the 141 is a non-combat one, so you know you wonât be missed in their ongoing training. Youâve mostly been working in communications; maintaining secure communication channels and ensuring that information is transmitted accurately and securely. The boys rely on you in the field, and you feel like you owe them a certain level of physical fitness just in case things go frighteningly wrong when youâre out there with them.Â
Thereâs just something so mortifying about the whole situation. It feels as though Ghost had peeled back the layers of you and taken a peek at your soft unprotected insides. Youâd been vulnerable in front of him in a way youâd never been in front of anyone before, in a way that you can hardly stand. You had thought that youâd been okay with it being a one time thing, but you werenât exactly doing a whole lot of thinking at the time.
So yeah, every time he glances away from you, or when he doesnât even bother to look in your direction at all, it feels like youâre being rejected anew. ItâsâŚ. Itâs not ideal. But youâre a big girl, and youâve dealt with repressed desire and stifled yearning for years now. At least now you have a real experience to add to your reserve of imagination the next time you try to get yourself off.
Itâs fine. You convince yourself that you were being ridiculous in the first place. Heâs Ghost, after all. You feel a little foolish for even having the brief hope that something more might happen between the two of you.Â
âââ シ ・ďžâ: .â˝ . :âďž
You manage to keep to yourself for most of the week, and the rest of the squad is kind enough not to say anything about it. But when Thursday comes around, you realise itâs not going to be possible to avoid Soap and his persistent insistence that you join them all in the moderately-sized cantina for drinks that night.
Truthfully, it doesnât take too much persuading to convince you to go. Avoiding training with the squad had resulted in a week of isolation that had left you lonely and wishing for some social interaction. Besides, youâve never quite been able to say no to Soap, and so youâre dragged to the little cantina for the second Thursday in a row.
To your absolute bewilderment, you find yourself in the exact same position as you had been in the last time you shared drinks with the squad, exactly one week ago.Â
Despite hardly speaking to you all week, Ghost had so confidently taken a seat next to you on the same fucking squishy little couch that you had shared last week. You end up partially squashed into the arm of the sofa, with Ghostâs massive hulking body brushing against you with every slight movement.Â
Itâs galling to admit it, but you feel like youâre on fire. He doesnât say much other than a soft murmur of a greeting when he first settles down beside you, but then he throws his arm around the back of the couch in a move thatâs unexpectedly intimate.Â
You try not to read too much into it. While Ghost may be fairly aloof and menacing to those that donât know him well, to you and the squad heâs always been subtly territorial. His eyes flick around the room semi-regularly, never at ease even in the middle of base. When Gaz goes to get drinks, Ghostâs eyes follow him until he gets back as though heâs expecting something to happen in the few minutes and couple of feet that heâs gone. He does the same when Price steps out for a smoke, and when Soap steps out to the toilet.
So the arm behind you (technically resting on the back of the couch rather than your shoulders) doesnât actually mean anything. The curious look that Soap sends you doesnât mean anything either, and you studiously ignore it as you force yourself to relax at Ghostâs side.
You drink the vodka soda Gaz hands you a little quicker than you mean to â maybe itâs because your nerves are already set on edge, but the alcohol goes to your head. Quickly.Â
Itâs a pleasant floaty feeling, and it eases some of the anxiety thatâs been bubbling thanks to the heat that sinks into your skin from his side pressed up against you. By the time you drain your glass, youâre leaning against his side. He doesnât react, for better or worse; you wish he would give you some indication of where you stand, whether he likes you bundled up by his side or if heâs just tolerating it.
When Ghostâs eyes finally slide over to you from behind the dark pits of his mask, you nearly jolt. His gaze is lazy and half-lidded, but he reaches out to take the glass from you. His gloved fingers brush over yours, and you canât stifle the embarrassing little judder that runs down your spine.
âSlow down.â He murmurs, setting the glass aside. âItâs still early.â
You had been hoping all damn evening that he would just look at you, but now that you finally have his eyes on you it feels as though youâre pinned down by them. You try not to squirm, once again remembering the way those dark eyes had watched you so darkly as he had hunched over you, rutting into you until the tears were streaming down your cheeks.
Your mind goes blank under his attention and his closeness, the ambient noise of glasses clinking and loud voices laughing and joking and muffled old eighties tunes fading to nothing until the sound of Soapâs loud voice brings you back to yourself.
âLet the lass drink, LT.â He crows, grinning, and you realise that he already has another couple of drinks in his hands. You hadnât even noticed him leaving for the bar. âShe deserves to have fun tonight. Donât you, bonnie?â
âSure.â You agree easily, relieved by the distraction and already reaching for the new drink. Youâre still all fidgety and distracted, eager to drown yourself in it. âI deserve fun.â
It feels as though Ghostâs gaze is burning right into the side of your head, but you fixedly ignore him. Heâs so intense, youâre pretty sure that you look like a dazed idiot under the weight of his attention. Itâs the most heâs looked at you all week, and you attempt to hide your face behind your glass as you take a sip of your fresh drink.
Heâs drinking too, though heâs foregone his usual whiskey in favour of a dark lager that heâs barely touched. The glass is sweating with condensation, and he swipes a thick gloved thumb over the fog on it absent-mindedly as he watches you.
You watch Gaz and Soap as they joke with each other, trading jibes and jabs and stories that you hardly even hear. It feels a little as though your ears have been filled with cotton wool, as though everything around you is just distinctly muffled. You feel like youâre on another planet, awareness tethered only by the hot, hard line of Ghostâs muscular body pressed against your side.Â
Over the last week, youâve tried very hard not to be a stereotype.
Youâve heard men laughing about girls theyâve slept with whoâve become too clingy, whoâve wanted too much, and wasted their time searching for something that those guys arenât willing to give. Maybe itâs because youâre so conscious that Ghost has taken several of your firsts, but youâre so determined to not be that person.Â
Ghost isnât exactly a big talker anyway, unless itâs the odd sarcastic comment or ribbing with Soap, so itâs not like youâve talked about the situation. You had just awoken the morning after with a deep ache in your core and a sore back, though the pain was soothed by the warm embrace you were all wrapped up in. You had been nervous, but you neednât have been. Ghost had given you nothing. He just rubbed your back with one shovel-sized hand and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder (through the mask, so you donât know what to make of that) before he rolled out of your bed to pull his trousers back on, grunting that heâd see you later.
So, you donât talk about it. Not with him, and not with anybody. It feels like so much has changed, yet everything stays the same. The deja vu youâre experiencing from sitting on the couch drinking with him like this is overwhelming, and experiencing him staring at you like this after a full week of distance is making you feel hot and fuzzy and stupid.
While Soap is in the midst of a loud and enthusiastic retelling of a story from his basic training days, you build up the courage to glance up at Ghost. Heâs already looking at you, as though anticipating your attention.Â
âYouâre staring at me.â You mumble, your fingers clenching compulsively around your chilled glass.
Ghost shifts, and you feel the thick muscle of his bicep roll behind your head. He grunts in quiet agreement.Â
âYeah.â
He doesnât say anything else, uninterested in justifying or explaining himself. Itâs like he thinks that he doesnât need to; he just keeps watching you, his light blond eyelashes drawing low over his eyes as his head tilts.
Self-conscious under his intensity, you glance away again. Soap is still talking, but you canât focus. Despite the fact that Ghost is big and warm and so frustratingly attractive beside you, itâs hard to ignore the subtle prickle of irritation thatâs growing under your skin.Â
After all, he had taken your virginity and then proceeded to act as though nothing at all had changed between you for the rest of the week, and now heâs sat next to you with his gaze that heated? What the fuck?
The second drink goes down even easier than the first thanks to your awkwardness. Youâre not sure what to make of his attention â youâve spent the whole week keeping a sense of distance, determined to stay cool and casual. The last thing you want to do is freak him out by seeming like an over-eager idiot thatâs gone and fallen in too deep with him, unwilling to lose whatever meagre respect Ghost has developed for you since you started working with the 141.
âIâll get the next round.â You blurt suddenly, pushing yourself up off the couch.
Itâs too abrupt to be casual, and you pointedly donât look at the half-full glasses in your squad matesâ hands as you hurry away. You probably could have played that off better, but you need a moment to collect yourself away from Ghostâs relentless stare.
You take the opportunity to breathe at the bar, rubbing at your eyes and sighing. The bartender is busy, so you just stand there for a long moment, mentally chastising yourself.
God, this is just embarrassing. Youâre a grown fucking woman, and here you are getting so ridiculously flustered over your lieutenant. You never thought that youâd be the type to turn into a silly little mess over the first man you ever sleep with, but maybe it was inevitable. The little embers of that crush you had been harbouring on Ghost since you joined the team have been fanned into a full on flame and you hardly know how to handle yourself.
It takes a significant effort to keep your attention away from the table; you canât help but want to look, to see if Ghost is still looking your way, but you keep your eyes to yourself.Â
When another body appears at your side, you jolt in surprise. You hadnât expected to be followed, and your first thought is that it must be Soap. But when you glance to your side, you find a stranger standing closer to you than you expected.
Well, heâs not a total stranger. You know him to see around the base, sandy-haired with a too wide smile. You think he might be a second lieutenant, but youâve never actually had any dealings with him and you canât think of a name⌠Daniels, maybe?
âHello there,â He says, and even with those two words his intentions are unmistakable. His tone is suggestive, as is the way his eyes scan over your body. âHow you doing?â
Itâs far from the first time youâve been hit on by men; it comes with the territory of being a woman in a male-dominated environment. They look at you like they want to eat you sometimes, in a way that sets your teeth on edge. Youâve always danced around the subject of intimacy, embarrassed about your lack of experience and too anxious to actually seek out anyone to change that. What happened with Ghost was unexpected, and just about changed your entire outlook on sex and physical pleasure for life.Â
Your first reaction, as always, is to shut him down or ignore him. But something makes you pause, and glance back at him.Â
Heâs sort of cute. A charming smile, at least. When he sees you looking back, he only smiles wider and steps closer.
âLet me get this next one for you,â He says, gesturing at the bartender to catch his attention. âWhatâre you having?â
âUh..â You hesitate a moment, biting your lip. âVodka soda.â
He orders, then leans against the bar and turns to face you fully. His gaze is appreciative, and for once you donât shy away from it. You so rarely return male attention that you hardly know what to do, but you manage to muster up an awkward smile.
When the bartender returns with your drink, you feel a momentary pang of guilt. You had almost forgotten that you were meant to order drinks for the table, and you send a swift glance over your shoulder.Â
The boys are still engrossed in their conversation, hardly even noticing your absence. All but Ghost.
The lieutenant has half-turned, his arm still slung over the couch where you had been sitting as he stares. The realisation that his eyes are still on you has your spine straightening, self-conscious now about your posture and your body language.Â
You look away swiftly, and try not to feel guilty. Youâre not doing anything wrong, after all. He hasnât spoken to you all week despite the fact that heâd nearly done your back in fucking you.
Your experience with Ghost may have been a one-time thing, no matter what you might have been hoping for, but thereâs no reason that it has to be a one-time thing for you with anyone else. Even with your stupid vibrators and dildos, you havenât been able to come close to coming in the week following your night with your lieutenant. Youâre starting to wonder if maybe youâre not capable of coming without someone elseâs hands on you.
âIâve seen you around, been meaning to talk to you,â Daniels is saying, and in your distraction you almost miss it. âBut itâs, uh⌠itâs a little difficult to catch you alone.â
You almost scoff, but you manage to swallow it back down. You know exactly what he means; the 141 sticks together and looks out for each other, but it also sometimes feels like you have a couple of overprotective guard dogs. They take watching you seriously, probably due to your non-combat role on the team, and youâve never discouraged it because you like the way they make you feel safe.Â
âYeah, the guys can be a little protective.â You laugh a little weakly. âBut donât mind them.â
Even now, you can feel Ghostâs dark eyes burning into you from across the room. You wonder how on earth Daniels remains so unaware of it.
âMm,â Daniels leans in, his white teeth glinting. âCanât blame them, I suppose. Why donât you come and join me and some of the lads at our table for a bit? Spend some time with some new people.â
You shift on the balls of your feet, thinking. Admittedly, youâve never been big on socialising when on base, other than the usual minor exchange of pleasantries. You hardly even know what to do in the face of a manâs interest in you now.
âOh, Iâm not sure.â You demur, reaching up to scratch absently behind your ear. âI donât think the boys would appreciate me abandoning them for the night.â
Danielsâ smile widens, and you feel your cheeks heat. You feel clumsy with your socialising, as though youâre stretching muscles youâre not used to using. Since you had joined the 141, you hadnât done too much mingling outside of the squad; theyâve been your only friends and confidantes, ribbing and supporting you in equal measure. In the face of a stranger in the on-base cantina, you find yourself floundering.
âI think they get enough of your time,â He murmurs, leaning against the bar in such a way that his body is angled towards you. âCâmon, Iâll buy you another few drinks and we can get to know each other, huh?â
Maybe the vodka was a bad idea. Itâs lowering your inhibitions, making you actually consider his offer. Youâre pent up from a week of unsuccessful touching yourself, and you crave physical intimacy.Â
If you canât get a repeat performance from Ghost, then maybe it wouldnât be so terrible if you looked elsewhere, with someone who might be interested in more than a one time thing.
You glance down at Danielâs hands where theyâre wrapped around his beer glass. Theyâre big, with strong slender fingers and calloused knuckles. Nice hands, you think, but you canât help but compare to the enormous thick paws of your lieutenant. Still, you think theyâd do the job.
âWellââ You start to say, your tone wavering and uncertain as you consider his officer.
But you donât get to give him an answer before a massive hand settles on your shoulder. It makes you jolt, startled, recognising Ghost by touch alone. It feels as though it sears straight through your clothes, and your eyes widen.
For a moment, Ghost says nothing at all. He just stands at your shoulder, so close that you feel the muscle of his chest and stomach brush against your back, and stares at Daniels from over the top of your head. The glare isnât even directed your way, and yet you find yourself wilting from it.
âOn your way, Sergeant.â Ghost drawls, lifting his chin and gesturing at him dismissively.
Despite Ghostâs obvious intimidation factor, Daniels doesnât immediately do as heâs told. He huffs out a short breathless laugh instead, as though he can hardly believe what heâs hearing.
âWeâre only talking, Lieutenantââ
Ghost doesnât even respond. His glower just intensifies, until Daniels trails off and his mouth snaps shut. You get the impression that if anyone else tried to intimidate him just by staring and posturing, Daniels might actually square up and fight. He seems like the type to make poor decisions while drinking â maybe you were going to be one of them.Â
But as it is, Ghost has an intimidation factor unmatched by anyone else youâve ever known. It goes beyond his giant hulking physique and skull mask and low gravelly voice that can sound like a clap of thunder when heâs angry. Itâs like he has an aura, something that radiates off him in dark waves saying âDonât fuck with meâ. Any sensible person would back the fuck off when faced with his full, unwelcoming attention.
And sure enough, Daniels is no exception. He raises his arms to his shoulders and gives Ghost a mocking sort of smile before retreating backwards. To your mortification, he doesnât so much as glance your way even as he turns his back on you.
Irritation settles over you like a blanket. It makes your skin itch and your teeth grind, and you turn to scowl at Ghost.
âWhat the hell was that?â You demand, and your voice comes out sharper than you had technically intended.
Ghostâs head tilts, and those sharp dark eyes find you from behind the mask. The eyeblack is beginning to fade in patches around the inner corners of his eyes â bizarrely, it serves as a reminder that Ghost is just a man, not just a massive wall of muscle with a terrifying glower.
âWhat was what?â He says. His voice has dropped a notch, deep and rumbling into you even as you step away and turn so that youâre facing him head on.
âYouâ I was justââ You flounder for a moment, searching for words as you gesture uselessly with your hands.Â
Youâre indignant over his interruption, and your frustration grows as you find yourself unable to articulate yourself. Where the hell does he get off interrupting you talking to another man? He hadnât spoken to you all week, and now he feels confident enough to cockblock you?
âMm.â Ghost grunts. âWhat were you doing?â
Your jaw clenches. âI was talking. Is that a crime now?â
Jesus, you sound like a brat. You donât even know where this insubordination is coming from; heâs your lieutenant, regardless of that one night you had spent with him. Youâre being too bold talking like this, but itâs like you just canât help yourself.
His eyes darken, lashes blocking out his irises as his gaze narrows at you. You force yourself to maintain eye contact, to keep your spine straight and shoulders back despite your impulse to crumble.
âWatch that mouth, doll.â He warns, his voice low, and you feel your stomach tighten at both his words and his tone.Â
But your self-preservation instincts are still missing.
âYou canât ignore me all week and then get annoyed at me when Iââ
He cuts you off as though heâs not even listening to you. âNot here. Come on.â
And with that, he wraps one big hand around your upper arm and begins leading you out of the cantina. Heâs not harsh, and he doesnât drag you or anything, but judging by the tense set of his shoulders arguing with him would be a really bad idea right now.Â
Youâve pissed him off, and you donât want to make his mood worse so you allow your feet to move automatically as he leads you out of the room.
You can feel eyes on your back as you leave, and you feel yourself grow squirmy with embarrassment. No doubt the rest of the squad is watching you get hauled off by Ghost right now.Â
Oh god, the Captain is watching you get hauled off â how mortifying. You pray they didnât catch your little exchange with Ghost at the bar, but you have a feeling that hope is in vain. The 141 are close-knit and protective over each other, but theyâre also terrible gossips.
âLet meâ Sir, let me goââ You start to complain, testing his grip. His hold on you is iron-clad, and yet still somehow gentle enough to avoid bruising.
When you realise where heâs leading you to, you stop complaining very quickly. You had figured that he was just going to drag you into the corridor outside and give you a talking to, but he doesnât stop there. He keeps going, until you realise that heâs leading you all the way back to your own damn room
âWhat are you doing?â You demand in a hiss. Youâre so incensed that you swear your hair is standing on end.Â
After all that, is Ghost seriously hauling you back to your room like youâre a bold child? Is he angry because of your insubordination at the bar?Â
A cold trickle of anxiety enters your stomach, and you steal a worried glance at his face. The hard-shell mask he uses on missions has been traded for the softer black woven balaclava that he usually wears when heâs not in the field, but it doesnât make him any easier to read.
He doesnât answer until the two of you have crossed the threshold of your room, the door shutting behind you with a firm click.
Now that itâs the two of you, alone once again in your tiny shitty room, you find your indignant confidence waning rapidly. Heâs just so big, the huge masculine frame of him making you feel more ridiculous than ever for your momentary flash of brattiness. Even worse, having him in your space like this is only making your brain go into overdrive, as though your body remembers what happened the last time he was here like this.
You decide that the best defence mechanism to prevent yourself from looking like a fool is to cling onto those last little dregs of anger.
âYouâre unbelievable.â You snap, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes. âYouâve been avoiding me all week! And then as soon as another guy speaks to me, youâre over to me like a light. I mean, what the fuck?â And then, remembering the chain of command, you add a very sullen, âSir.âÂ
Throughout your mini little rant, Ghost has just watched you. Thereâs something in his eyes that you donât know how to read, unable to get a feel for what heâs thinking through that inscrutable mask.
ââS not true.â He grunts after a moment, and you realise that his eyes have creased in a way that suggests heâs frowning.
You feel like youâre going to explode. âYes, it is! Daniels was barely speaking to me for two minutes before you scared him offââ
Bizarrely, your words make Ghost snort. You hadnât even realised how tense his shoulders were until he relaxes, and you stare at him in confusion as he steps past you towards your bed. Your anger fizzles out, leaving behind self-conscious confusion as you watch your lieutenant settle down so that heâs sitting at the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide.Â
âHis name is Davidson.â He says, and his voice is missing the somewhat dangerous edge it had only moments earlier. âAnd that wasnât what I was talking about.â
Embarrassment flares, though you try to stifle it. So you didnât know the guyâs name â whatever. You would have learned it by the end of the night, youâre certain. You open your mouth, defensive and prickly, but Ghost speaks again before you get the chance to.
âI havenât been ignoring you.â He says, watching you like heâs trying to figure you out. When you just blink at him, he sighs. âJesus, sweetheart, just sit down for a second. Tell me what I did wrong, yeah?â
Youâre left feeling a little wrong-footed, hesitating in the middle of the room. You had expected him to be a little angrier than this, to chide you for your behaviour. Or maybe you had expected him to be cold, or dismissive.
Slowly, you take a few steps towards the bed. He watches you approach, those dark eyes watchful and sharp, but says nothing as you nervously perch on the bed beside him.Â
Despite the fact that this is your room, youâre stiff when you sit next to him. Your brain is in overdrive, providing you with very unhelpful memories of the last time Ghost was on your bed and flooding your body with mortifying heat.
âYouâve barely spoken to me since weââ You canât bring yourself to finish the sentence, averting your gaze and staring at some point past his shoulder. âSince last week. If you wanted to keep it professional, thatâsâ thatâs fineââ
Ghostâs spine straightens, but he doesnât speak yet. He just watches you, and lets you flounder awkwardly as you struggle to articulate yourself.
âI donât want to make things awkward, I justââ Youâre tripping over your words, wincing when they come out all clumsy. âIâve never done this before, so Iâll follow your lead, but I donât understand the point of sending Danâ Davidson, whatever, away like that if youâre clearly trying to keep things between us professionalââ
Finally, Ghost speaks, though it seems like heâs suddenly developed incredibly selective hearing.
âHeâs a wanker. Chases around any woman that stands still for too long in that damn cantina every time weâre in there.â His voice is a low earnest rumble, but youâre too agitated to properly hear him. âHe didnât have anything to offer that youâd be interested in.â
âThatâs notââ
âBesides,â He cuts clean across you, but so gently, so much so that it surprises you. âI think we long surpassed professionalism when you asked if you could use my cock like a dildo.â
Blood rushes to your head so fast you feel a little light-headed. Right, so heâs decided to cut straight to the chase then. You swallow, and your dry throat clicks audibly.
âRight.â You say. âYeah, thatâ um⌠thatâs made things awkward, I suppose.â A brief pause, and then you sheepishly add, âSorry, LT.â
Ghost just watches you, his brown eyes inscrutable beneath the fan of his pale eyelashes. Under the dark fabric of the mask you see his jaw flex, as though heâs considering his next words carefully.
âCâmere.â He says.
You had been expecting him to say more, and you hesitate a moment before reluctantly shuffling over a few inches. Though he had invited you to move closer to him, youâre suddenly so conscious of crossing any possible boundaries.Â
You had never slept with anyone before, and you donât understand whatâs expected of you now. How are you supposed to act, now that youâve had a one-night stand with your lieutenant?Â
âHavenât been ignoring you,â Ghost says, and he reaches out to place a hand on your knee. The touch makes your eyes widen, gaze darting down to stare at his thick fingers where they wrap around the underside of your knee. âYou jokinâ? Been watching you all week. Thinkinâ about you all the time.â
Thatâs a bold enough statement that all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You canât deny that heâs been watching you â you had felt his eyes on you regularly, but always from a distance. ButâŚÂ
âYou neverââ You start to say, before swallowing again so you donât say something stupid. âYou havenât spoken to me.â
âSpoke to you during training, before you stopped showing up.â
Thatâs a little galling, and all you can do is scowl.Â
âStop that. You know what I mean.â You snap defensively.Â
Maybe youâre imagining it, but you think Ghost might be confused behind that stupid mask. His head has tilted just slightly to the side in the same way as it usually does when heâs trying to figure something out.
âI was trying to give you space, doll.â He murmurs. âIt was your firstâ I didnât want to overwhelm you. Wanted you to make your own choices.â
The uncertainty in his voice is unexpectedly endearing, but youâre not ready to let go of your irritation with him just yet. Admittedly youâre losing steam, but you struggle to straighten your back and affect a scowl nonetheless.
âI didnât want space.â You say, and it comes out a little more childish than you had intended it to. You try not to cringe at yourself. âYou justâ we never talked about anything, you just woke up the next morning and left and then all week you hardly spoke to me.â
You curse your inexperience even as you speak, feeling like a total idiot. You just wish you knew what was expected of you, what Ghost wants. Was he put off by the fact that he had to guide you, fumbling and clumsy, through an experience that was absolutely mind-blowing for you but probably sub-standard for him?
And oh, that thought makes dread curl in your belly. What if Ghost wasnât impressed with your⌠performance? You had no idea what you were doing, only that the way Ghost had touched you felt so good, so much better than youâve ever managed to make yourself feel with your fingers or toys. And when he had brought you to orgasm, you had lost yourself completely. You hadnât made any attempt to return his attention, too lost in all the new pleasure you were experiencing.
Thereâs a pause, the silence between you stretching taut. Ghost doesnât rush to reply, instead apparently thinking hard before he speaks.Â
âI go for a run in the mornings.â He says at last, his voice low and rumbly.Â
It takes you a moment to process that.Â
âYouâ what?â
Ghost shifts, and the cheap standard issue mattress beneath the two of you squeaks. âThat morning, I⌠went for a run.â
He must realise how that sounds â maybe the expression on your face tips him off â because he hurries to add on to it. âCreature of habit, love. I didnâtâ I donât do this often either. I stayed the night, we cuddled. I thoughtââ
He stops rather abruptly, and doesnât finish so you donât quite know what he thought. Your confusion has gotten the best of you, and youâre staring at him in agitated confusion. God, heâs bad at communicating.
âShould have stayed.â He says gruffly, and if youâre not mistaken he sounds a little chagrined. âThought we were fine, until you started avoiding me. And then I thought you just needed time to yourself.â He gives a jerky shrug, clearly out of his comfort zone. ââCause it was your first time. Dunno.â
Oh. Well.
Now youâre the one blinking at him. Thatâs⌠not what you had been expecting.Â
While you thought Ghost had been giving you the cold shoulder, he had thought that he was being considerate. Jesus. Youâre not sure how to even begin processing that.
âI didnât need time to myself.â You say, and you sound pathetic.
Thereâs a beat of silence during which you feel thoroughly examined. Ghost hardly even blinks as he watches you, his scrutiny making you sweat.
âNo,â He rumbles after a moment. âApparently you didnât.â
You roll your eyes, honestly a little irritated with him. Even after itâs been made clear that your miscommunication has caused issues this whole week, heâs still so hesitant to just fucking talk to you.Â
âRight, wellââ You start to say, a little sharp.Â
He grabs at you before you can retreat, his enormous hand comically large around your wrist. Heâs not holding you harshly, his grip just loose enough that you could break out of it if you tried. But instead of pulling away, you allow him to tug you closer. His free hand reaches for your hip, and quicker than your tired mind is able to follow heâs tugged you up into his lap.
âJesusââ You blurt, grabbing at his shoulders for balance.
Ghost is built like a brick house, all thick and sturdy with all that solid muscle. Heâs broad too, and your legs are forced wide as he encourages you to settle in his lap. You try not to let your reaction show on your face, but Ghost is watching you so carefully that youâre certain he can read every micro-twitch anyway.
âLast week wasnât enough?â He asks, and if youâre not mistaken he sounds hungry. Maybe you could even delude yourself into thinking thereâs an undertone of hope, too.
But maybe thatâs a step too far. This is the Ghost, after all. Heâs veritably a human weapon, every inch of him battle-scarred and solid beneath the heavy clothes and thick mask. Youâre pretty sure that any kind of yearning you hear has been prescribed by your own imagination. But you canât help yourself.
You shake your head, your breath catching in your chest. No, last week wasnât enough.
âThen why bother with that idiot at the bar?â Ghost asks, his big hands folding around your hips. âIf you wanted to be fucked, you could have just asked me.â
You swallow thickly, your throat clicking audibly. For some reason, you hadnât expected him to speak so bluntly, but itâs typical of Ghost to get straight to the point without beating around the bush.Â
âI wasnât sure youâd want to do that with me again.â You say, your voice edged with insecurity.Â
Thereâs a long moment of silence during which Ghost just stares at you. Itâs borderline uncomfortable, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. Even with the mask acting as a barrier, heâs still so intense.
âWhat made you think that?â He asks, his voice low.
You find yourself quite abruptly aware of the position youâre in. Youâre sitting perched in your lieutenantâs lap with your legs spread wide, after a week of pining after him like an embarrassing little puppy. Youâve been craving physical contact, yearning desperately for that same kind of pleasure he had introduced to you ever since your night together.Â
âYouâre difficult to read.â You whisper awkwardly, shifting. Youâre hyper-aware of your weight in his lap; even though you know heâs strong, the thought of being too heavy for him is a little mortifying.
But his hands tighten around your hips, keeping you securely in place across his thighs.
âYou think so?â His voice is low, a little rough, and the gravel of it causes a little frisson of heat to trickle down your spine. âYou been trying to read me? Canât have been doinâ a very good job, darling, since youâve been avoiding me all fuckinâ week.â
Your breath comes out tremulously, and you pray he canât hear the shake in your voice when you speak. Judging by his darkening gaze, he hears it loud and clear.Â
âI justâ Didnât know if you would want me again.â You whisper, feeling foolish and inexperienced and clumsy.
Ghost watches you, his dark eyes flickering over your face, before he finally hums. Then his grip tightens around your hips and he pulls you so that your clothed crotch grinds against him. You gasp, your eyes widening when you feel the thick ridge of his cock in his tac trousers, unmistakably hard as your clothed cunt slides over him.
âFeel that?â He asks, his voice dropping into that deep, hungry register that youâve been hearing in your dreams all fucking week.
âYeah.â You choke, fighting the urge to grind on him like a fucking slut. If your hips twitch, just a little, you think you could be excused.
You are already intimately familiar with his cock, considering how eagerly he had fucked you open on it a week ago (several times, too), but the way it fills his trousers makes it seem ridiculously big and you wonder, a little wildly, how the fuck it ever fit in you in the first place. It presses against the seam of his trousers, right between your legs, and then Ghost grinds up into you and you swear your vision sparks out for a moment.
âOh!â You blurt out in a wavering whisper, clutching at his shoulders. âOh, god.â
âStill think I donât want you?â He grunts. His hands are like fucking shovels, and he takes a grip of your ass and squeezes until you squeak.
Your head is swimming. Your trousers are too tight, the crotch of them pressing into your clit, and you feel like you can't get enough air in your lungs.Â
âI donât know.â You say stupidly.Â
Itâs like your cunt knows that Ghost is near, because youâre fucking drenched. You can feel your underwear stick uncomfortably to you beneath your clothes, slick and wet as you feel the shape of Ghostâs cock press into you.
He sighs beneath you, his big palm stroking over your ass affectionately.Â
âYou think too much, doll.â He mutters, his finder squeezing into the plush flesh of your ass like itâs a stress toy. âWay too fuckinâ much.â
Heâs probably right. God, you want to stop thinking. Want to return to that stupid, dazed, fucked-out state of mind he had sent you to when he had stuffed you full.
Hesitantly, you grind yourself down onto the thick bulge beneath you. It feels good, that familiar pleasant little spark jolting up your spine as you hump yourself against him.
âYeah,â Ghost grunts, his voice thick with unmistakable want. âThatâs it. Youâve been wanting this, haventâcha?â
âYeah.â You admit, so quietly that itâs almost inaudible. âYeah, I want it.â
But Ghost hears. Of course he does. He lets out a low sound that has your thighs squishing closed around his hips, overwhelmed and running far too hot.Â
He has you on your back so quickly that your head spins, and you end up staring at the ceiling for a moment in bewilderment, trying to figure out how youâd gotten there. Ghost is already leaning over you, his dark eyes intent on your face as he settles between your thighs.
You think you should probably be embarrassed about the ease with which you spread your legs, eager to feel his bulky body between your thighs. But youâre already running hot, your chest tightening with want, and you find yourself mercifully relieved that heâs here. The miscommunication between the two of you is going to be solved, Ghost wants you, and youâre about to get what youâve been craving all week.
He pulls your own pants off effortlessly, leaving you in the underwear that youâve fucking ruined. You try to shut your legs, face burning hot with embarrassment as you try to hide the sight, but Ghost doesnât have any intention of letting you hide yourself.
He pushes your legs back open, then presses his masked face to the inside of your thigh. Youâre not sure what heâs doing; you remember, with a little thrill, the feeling of his red hot mouth against your pussy, but you donât think thatâs whatâs happening here because heâs still got his stupid fucking balaclava on.
âDid she miss me?â He asks, his words muffled by both the mask and the pudge of your thigh.
âWhat?â You ask breathlessly, thinking for a moment that Ghost is talking about you in the third person.
But then he nuzzles his masked face against the sodden seat of your knickers, and you realise that heâs talking about your fucking pussy.
âOh my god, you weirdoââ You choke out, but you donât get any further than that before Ghost is tugging impatiently at your underwear, trying to reveal your cunt.Â
He hushes you, almost absent-mindedly, and you hear him take a breath when he finally manages to get your knickers off. He tosses them aside, his dark eyes focused intently on your bare cunt now that itâs been revealed. Itâs embarrassing, but you canât bring yourself to try and hide again. Heâs touching you so reverently and looking at you so hungrily that youâre not brave enough to try to deprive him of the sight.
âMy fussy girl,â He mutters, low enough that you almost donât hear him. âHave you been touching yourself? Using your toys this week?â
You shiver, a little embarrassed. You have been using your stupid toys, but they havenât been working. No matter what you do, you canât replicate the feelings that Ghost had managed to elicit in you with such ease, and you have a sinking feeling that he knows that.
But the mention of your toys reminds you of something else, too. A recurring thought thatâs been practically haunting you, thatâs had you imagining Ghost up above you and around you as youâd sucked experimentally on your dildo, sliding it into your mouth just to see how much of it you could take.
âWaitââ You say, and though your voice wavers, Ghost sits back immediately, eyes on your face. Itâs like heâs just waiting for your word, an order, a direction. Something in your belly warms, and you take a breath.
âI want to try something.â You tell him before you can lose your nerve. âSit back down.â
He sits at the edge of your bed, his bulky frame moving far more gracefully than youâd expect for his size if you hadnât already seen him in action. Heâs almost patient, until you catch the way the fingers of his right hand drum against his thigh as he waits for you to do something.
Since youâre already stripped from the waist down, you see no point in remaining clothed on top too. When you pull your top and bra off, Ghost makes a low appreciative rumble deep in his chest that you swear you can feel run down your spine.Â
âPromising start.â He says, and you want to smack him.
You shoot him a little scowl, before deciding to just ignore him. Youâve fancied him for an embarrassingly long time, probably since the very first time you had laid eyes on him upon joining the task force, and now heâs sitting on your bed, willing and hard and admitting that he wants you. It takes your breath away a little, especially the way that he doesnât seem put off by your inexperience at all.
Slowly, you sink to your knees in front of him and watch his eyes widen beneath the balaclava. Itâs somewhat gratifying to see his surprise; like youâve finally got one over on your big bad lieutenant.Â
âVery promising start.â He says, and this time he sounds a little husky. âDâyou know what youâre doing, sweetheart?â
The answer is, very obviously, no. You have no idea what youâre doing, youâre learning as you go along. But Ghost hasnât judged you yet for your clumsy fumbling exploration, so you can only hope that heâs willing to put up with this too.
âSort of.â You say evasively. âIâve seen it in porn, and Iâve⌠Iâve been practicing.â
Ghostâs groan sounds like itâs been punched out of him, and itâs rough enough to have you glancing up in surprise from where youâre trying to get his stupid trousers unbuttoned. Your hands are unsteady and unsure, and itâs slow-going.
âYeah?â He asks, sounding a little out of breath himself. âWhich one?â âWhat?â Youâre a little distracted, not paying full attention to his question as you tug at his trousers. Youâve finally got them unbuttoned, and you pull impatiently in an effort to get them off. Ghost lifts his hips to help, though your eager impatience seems to amuse him.
âWhich one of your toysâve you been practicing on?â He asks, the barest undertone of a groan in his voice. âThe pretty little pink one?â
You feel embarrassed heat prickle in your face because yes, it had in fact been that one you had been practising with. Youâre not quite sure what to make of the fact that youâre apparently so predictable that Ghost can guess which dildo youâve been sucking at, imagining it was him.
âMaybe.â You mutter evasively.
Ghost lets out a low chuckle right as you manage to wrangle his cock out of his briefs, and then you have to pause for a moment because oh. You had known, of course, that he was big. You had felt him for days after that first time, like a fucking internal bruise that ached at you every time you moved. He was bigger than any toy that you owned, you know that, youâve felt it, and yet now that itâs in front of your face it seems so much bigger than you remember.
Youâve watched porn with so-called âmonster cocksâ and it isnât like that. Itâs just⌠bigger. Than average, that is. At least, as far as you can tell, because itâs not like you have enough experience with dicks in real life to have any idea of what average really is.
Ghost must recognise the momentary flash of panic that crosses your face, because he reaches out and strokes a gloved thumb over your cheek. The fabric is rough against your skin, but you relax at the feeling anyway.
âYou donât have to.â He says quietly.
âI want to.â You insist, swallowing that swell of nerves.Â
Now that his cock is bobbing in front of your face, you have to fight the sinking feeling that youâre in over your head. But youâre not willing to back down; not when youâve been thinking about this all damn week, and especially not when youâve got the man that stars in all of your fantasies sitting on your bed with his legs spread.
You shuffle forward a little, and try not to feel intimidated at the fact that Ghostâs thick thighs twitch when you reach to take hold of his cock. Heâs so big that it feels like heâs dwarfing you beneath him, his bulky form enveloping you in shadow when he leans forward to make sure he has a good view of what youâre doing.
You stroke experimentally over his cock, your fist a little clumsy. Despite your frenzied and very pleasurable tumble with him before, you had never actually gotten the chance to touch him in return. You had been too overwhelmed by the sheer onslaught of sensation he had delivered upon you to even think about returning any favours, and the fact that youâre getting the opportunity now to reciprocate and explore fills your tummy with butterflies.
âGrip it harder, love.â He grunts, shifting his hips so that he can fuck his cock into your fist. âIt ainât gonna break.â
âShh,â You admonish him, glancing up with a frown. âLet me do it myself.â
Ghost snorts quietly, probably finding your determination silly, but he still his hips and lets you go at your own pace. His dick is big, and you stare at it with some level of wonder as you stroke your fist over him. You canât help but compare the feel of him to your dildos, only because theyâre your only real point of reference; his skin is velvety soft and hot to the touch, yielding despite how hard he is, and you admire the slide of his foreskin pulling down over the crown.Â
Itâs not the size that really catches your attention though. No, what you really notice is how fucking perfect it is. Pretty and pink, flushed more red towards the tip, the head shiny with just a hint of smeared pre-come. It curves, slightly, to the left, and it feels nice in your hand. You feel a little light headed as your eyes dart over the pale blond downy hair that covers his thighs and the base of his cock.Â
You gather your courage, then lean in and lick tentatively at the rosy pink crown of his cock. You had been a little worried about the taste, having no idea what to expect, but you neednât have been. Heâs a little salty, but nothing inoffensive; he just tastes like skin, and you relax a little in relief.
He groans, his head tilting back to stare at the ceiling. You pause, hoping for some sort of direction, and as the moment stretches out he looks back to you and tilts his head.
âThought you wanted to do it yourself?â
Bastard, you grumble in your head, before steeling yourself. You know that your grip on him is clumsy, that your stroking is unpracticed, and you can only pray that he doesnât mind.
You take his cock into your mouth, jaw hinged wide as you try to avoid using your teeth, and attempt to suck with no finesse. You go too fast, try to take too much too quickly, because all of a sudden the head is tickling the back of your throat and youâre coughing, choking, and sputtering.Â
You pull back, blinking rapidly as your eyes sting with tears and drool drips unattractively down your chin. You go to wipe your face, but Ghost catches your wrist before you can.
âSlow down,â He murmurs, pulling your hands away from your face so he can look at you. âYou in a rush?â
âNo.â You grumble, and your voice comes out a little hoarse from the choking. âI just⌠I donât know what Iâm doing.â
Even though youâre quite certain that Ghost already knows that, itâs a little humiliating to admit.
Ghost just hums, his eyes tracking over your petulant expression and the stringy spit thatâs trickling down your chin, falling in thick globs above your tits.
âDonât matter, love.â He rumbles, reaching out to thumb at your chin. You think for a moment that heâs wiping you clean, but then he just ends up smearing your spit all around your mouth. âPlay with it as much as you want to. Donât think too much.â
You swallow, the sound a little too loud in the quiet of your room, before nodding. This is what you wanted â the chance to touch him, to explore his mouth with your hands and mouth just like he had done with you before.
You readjust your grip on his cock; it looks so stupidly big in your hand. You can tell that he notices too, because he lets out a gruff sort of groan before he reaches out, one hand winding around the back of your neck to cup at the base of your skull.
âYeah, thatâs it.â He breathes, his eyes locked onto you.
His eyes are dark, almost completely blacked out by the thickness of his pupil, and he stares down at you with an air of such anticipation that you couldn't dream of keeping him waiting. Gripping him in your hand, you give an exploratory sort of stroke â the skin is velvety soft and smooth, and he lets out a short groan of appreciation when your fingers caress the head of his cock.
You start moving your hand again, adjusting your grip and stroking him off. You wish you were better at it, or at least more confident, but Ghost doesnât seem to have any complaints. He just grunts quietly, flexing his hips once before apparently remembering what you had said and going still.
It takes a moment before you work up the confidence to bring it anywhere near your mouth again, but finally you lean forward and press a gentle little kiss to the head of his cock. Youâre rewarded with a quiet puff of laughter, and his thumb strokes a soothing circle into the back of your neck.
Encouraged, you dip your head and lick the tip of him properly. He tastes salty on your tongue as you take him carefully into your mouth. This time you just suckle at the head, not wanting to push yourself too fast. His taste isnât nearly as strong as you had been expecting; you hardly notice, really, enjoying the weight of his cock on your tongue and the feeling of being encircled by his big thighs.
It sounds stupid and maybe a little paradoxical, but you feel safe like this; Ghost towers over you even sitting down, and when youâre on your knees for him like this with his thick thighs bracketing you and his clean musky smell in your nose, you swear you never want to leave this moment.
You let out the most pathetic little whisper ever when you suckle at his cock, your tongue licking insistently at the underside of his glans. Ghost is always fairly stoic beneath that mask (other than his occasional bursts of humour and arrogance), so managing to pull out the soft but heavy breaths from his mouth when you suck at him makes pride swell in your chest, warm and syrupy sweet. It also makes something else twist in your belly, tight and hot enough to have your thighs squeezing tight together.
You used to have so many stupid, virginal plans for what youâd do the day you got your hands on some real, non-plastic cock, but everything youâve ever heard about dicks and oral sex immediately flies right out of your head. You have no technique, and all you do is suck, gracelessly, trying to get as much of Ghost in your mouth as you can. Youâre making loud, embarrassing slurping noises, and youâre certain that youâre drooling.
Judging by the grunts above you, Ghost has got no complaints about your technique (or lack thereof). One of his big hands reaches down to cup your face, fingers probing, testing at your jawline as it works.
âFuck,â He snarls, tilting your chin up so he can see the way your lips are wrapped around the tip of his massive cock, âKnew youâd be good at this. Look at you, messy little thing. Fuckinâ gorgeous.â
That makes you shiver, an electric jolt that shoots right to your clit. Youâre not sure what feels better; whether itâs his fat cock in your mouth or the hot wanting intensity in his eyes or the low filthy praises heâs growling.
God, you want to be good at this. Youâre definitely no natural, but you fight so hard to push past your uncertainty to make this feel good for Ghost.Â
Youâre pretty sure heâs lying about you looking gorgeous, though. Youâve never felt less sexy than you do in this moment. Your eyes are streaming over-stimulated tears, your brow is scrunched in concentration, youâre gripping onto Ghostâs thick thighs for both balance and emotional support, and itâs taking everything you have not to choke on him again.
Who the fuck gave him the right to have a cock like this? Complaining about it feels borderline blasphemous, especially when you have first hand experience of just how good he is at using it. Youâre making a mess of yourself, slobbering all over him in a way thatâs definitely a little gross, but youâre surprised by just how much youâre enjoying this.Â
You get a little too eager, because you take him a little too far down your throat and gag. You pull off quickly, choking lightly and still gasping for breath. Maybe your brain is a little oxygen-deprived, because you feel stupidly hazy.Â
You take a moment to recover, nuzzling dazedly into the curls of his pubic hair. Blond, of course. God, that shouldnât be cute but it is.
The thick length of his dick might be intimidating (as proven by the ache in your throat right now), but the velvety balls nestled below seem almost paradoxically vulnerable. Youâre fascinated by the sight of them; you might have been amateurishly familiar with cocks from your dildos alone, but his balls are entirely new to you.
You spend some time lavishing them with tiny licks and kisses. Ghost hums in surprised pleasure, the sound swelling to a rumbling purr when you start caressing his thighs and hips with a tender, shy touch.Â
Encouraged by his reaction, you return to his cock. Itâs jutting proudly up, flushed a lovely pink colour, as though itâs just waiting for your attention once more. Itâs already covered in a lather of foamy spit from your attention before, and when you sink your mouth down on him once again you do so with a bit more confidence.
âLike a pro, baby.â Ghost grunts appreciatively. A calloused thumb rolls over your cheek, under the fan of your lashes, and wipes away the moisture thatâs gathered there.Â
You most certainly are not sucking his cock like a pro, but you appreciate the encouragement all the same. Itâs nice to know that youâre not doing a horrific job, at least.
You spare a glance up, half-expecting Ghostâs eyes to be closed. Instead his gaze is avid, sharp, practically electric through that thin window of his balaclava. Heâs watching you closely, taking in every detail like it all might be snatched away from him. Itâs too intense, and you look back down, focusing on his dick again.
An outraged, possessive noise escapes you when Ghost forcibly tugs your head back, pulling his cock out of your mouth. It twitches a little once itâs been removed from the wet heat of your mouth, all shiny wet and pink, and you lick your lips. God, you want to get back on that, and you donât understand why heâs taken it away from you.
Ghost lets out a low, breathy chuckle, reaching out to thumb at your spit-slick lower lip before reaching for your elbows and bodily hauling you back up onto the bed.
You practically bounce, falling back on the mattress and squirming to try and get your bearings again.
âNo,â You say, and to your bewilderment it comes out on a sob. âI wanted you to come on my faceââ
You can tell that Ghostâs expression does something strange beneath his mask because his eye twitches and he takes a deep breath. But he doesnât put his cock back in your mouth. Instead he reaches back and pulls his shirt off, and you take a broken little inhale because last time he had fucked you, heâd hardly gotten undressed at all. But now youâre being blessed with the sight of scarred pale skin pulled taut over the thick swell of muscles that turn to a softer belly, that pale trail of curls starting just below his belly button.Â
âNext time.â He says, and it comes out on the ghost of a groan. âFuck, love, next time.â
Heâs quick to hook his hands under your thighs and haul them apart. You just about have time to spread your legs before heâs muscling his way between them. He tugs impatiently at his balaclava, tugging it askew to reveal his mouth, then he presses his nose into your humiliatingly slick pussy and starts sucking at your clit like itâs a hard candy.
You shriek, your thighs clamping shut around his ears as you writhe, but he clearly has no intention of stopping. The muffled moans he lets out into your cushiony cunt vibrate in the best way, and heâs so brazen about it that it just about takes your breath away. You donât even know if he can see anything, considering his mask is completely lopsided and his eyes arenât lined up with the holes anymore, but heâs working with such enthusiasm that it doesnât even matter.
And honestly, his enthusiastic pussy-eating combined with the sheer visual stimulation heâs providing is really doing it for you.Â
Youâre probably going to get a crick in your neck from the way youâre craning your head just to watch him hunch over you, that tongue of his peeking out from beneath the edge of his mask just to lick you. Heâs built like a fucking god; thick muscles, soft tummy, and cushiony pecs. It might just be the hottest thing youâve ever seen in your life.
âOh god, fuckâ!â You choke out, your cunt clenching down hard as Ghost slides a finger into you.
Of course, Ghostâs fingers are also thicker than average. A single one of them feels like what would have been two of your own and you gasp a bit at the sudden stretch. You open up easily, your body welcoming him greedily and bearing down hard around his digits. Maybe itâs because youâre used to controlling the depth, speed and angle of penetration completely when youâre playing with your toys, but relying on Ghost for pleasure feels so damn exotic and exciting. Now you can only tilt your hips and go with Ghostâs pattern of movement; a bit harder, a bit deeper than what you would have done on your own.
He pushes another finger inside and itâs snug in your cunt, two fingers squished together nicely by your pulsing walls, hot and wet. It makes a sticky sound when he pushes them knuckle-deep, and then he sucks at your clit again, hard.
Youâre honestly taken aback when your stomach tightens up and a wave of white-hot pleasure washes over you. Your back bows off the bed, you cover your mouth with a balled-up fist, your chest heaves.Â
Itâs exactly as good as you remember it being the first time, maybe even better, and the noises you make are broken and pathetic as you whine and cry.
Ghost licks you through it, big long laves of his tongue punctuated by sweet little suckles on your clit that feel almost fond. All you can do is lay there and take it, your head spinning a little as you catch your breath and try to figure out how the fuck he managed to make you come so damn quickly when youâve been failing so spectacularly for a week.
Youâve barely finished coming, still shaking with the aftershocks, when he climbs up your body. At some point heâs shucked his trousers off, and the fact that heâs naked sends a little zing of excitement through your tired body. Or at least, as naked as Ghost tends to get. Heâs still got the damn mask on.
Heâs breathing heavily; his mouth is slightly ajar, mask tucked up around his crooked nose as he settles on his haunches between your thighs. Heâs still staring hard at your cunt, his eyes glued to the way your clit is still twitching. Heâs still so damn quiet, and you have no idea what heâs thinking.
When he reaches out to thumb at your clit again you whine. Youâre sensitive, and his thumb is calloused and rough. You wiggle, lift up your leg and press your foot to his broad chest to stop him. You may as well be pushing against a brick wall for all the good it did.
Ghost just exhales a quiet laugh, capturing your ankle in his massive fist. He turns his head and kisses your ankle; the gesture is unexpectedly tender, and makes something in your chest tremble dangerously.
He uses his hold on your ankle as leverage to raise your leg, spreading your thighs out wide until your hips ache. You feel so exposed, the lips of your cunt parted ever so slightly, and heâs quick to press his cock against your still-twitching clit.
âOh, look at her,â He breathes, low enough that you have to strain to hear. âShite, she missed me, didnât she?â
His hand is steady as he strokes his cock, dragging it through your sticky folds. The pretty pink head catches on your clit each time, and you let out a quiet whimper. Ghost doesnât even notice; his eyes are zeroed in on your spread pussy, watching how you flutter around nothing.
âFuck, sheâs been waitinâ for me all week,â He coos, his cock notching at the entrance of your cunt and pressing in just enough for you to feel the stretch as his thumb rolls against your clit. âI know, baby, been waitinâ for you too.â
Jesus, you feel like youâre gonna die. Youâre taking all these big deep shivering breaths, still trembling a little from your orgasm and eager for him to just fuck you already, but his filthy talk in your ear is sending you spiralling. Youâre so wet it feels like youâve sprung a leak; you can feel moisture running down your ass and under your thighs, and you burn with both mortification and desire.
Ghost presses his cock in a little further, and your back arches as you groan. Despite the orgasm and the fingering and the fact that you are so fucking aroused right now, the stretch is intense.
âYeah, sheâs begginâ for me.â Ghost is still talking â at this point you think his words are meant just for himself, because theyâre low and a little slurred, his eyes glassy as he stares at the way his cock spears through the slick folds of you. âListen; itâs like sheâs talking to me.â
For a second, you have no goddamn idea what heâs talking about. But then, in the silence, you hear the squelch of your drippy cunt as he squishes his cock against it in shallow little thrusts, barely even pressing the tip inside.
âOh god,â You whine, high and needy. âJustâ stop teasing.â
The bastard laughs, all low and gritty and a little breathless.
âItâs not teasing, lovie.â He says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your jawline. âYouâve been avoiding me for a week straight. Iâm just reacquainting myself.â
Then he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a move so sweet that it honestly takes you aback. Every complaint in your head flies out the window, and you turn eagerly in an attempt to deepen the kiss. His mouth is so hot, his lips plush and hungry and a little salty. It occurs to you that youâre tasting yourself in his mouth, and your body draws up tight and tense in response.Â
âSimon,â You breathe, intending to tell him to get a move on and just fuck you already, but you donât even get as far as finishing the order.
He groans as though the sound of his given name is a signal, and before you know it youâve got a huge wall of muscle hunched over you and around you as Ghost holds himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You feel his cock prodding at the entrance of your cunt and your legs fall even further open, until your hip joints ache.
When he starts to push in, the stretch burns in a way that makes your mouth fall open as you choke on the air in your lungs. Youâre wet and pliable and eager, your pussy sucking hungrily at Ghostâs dick in an effort to take him deep quickly, but you had almost forgotten what this felt like. You canât stop the way your cunt tightens eagerly as he rocks in an inch.
He laughs lowly in your ear, has to swallow back a groan when you clench tight around him, âCâmon, stop pushing me out, darling.â
âWait,â You gasp, reaching down to place your hand over his belly. âWait, oh my god, youâre too bigââ
His stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he's putting in to keep from rocking into you all in one go, and you spare a moment to admire his patience and his sheer resolve to make things good for you. But even though heâs obediently paused to let you catch your breath, he chuckles quietly at your reaction.
âItâs only the tip, baby.â He murmurs, cooing softly to you like youâre something easily spooked. âYouâve taken it before. This pretty little cunt of yours is so hungry, gotta let her have it.â
You nod, hesitantly. Heâs right; he may be big, but youâd taken him before. Only last week. And you had been a virgin then. Well, technically. Not physically, maybe, since youâd long stretched out your hymen on your dildos, but mentally. Though at least last week you had stretched yourself out on your vibrator, and then Ghost had spent so long opening you up with his mouth and fingers.
Ghost rocks forward another inch, and the stretch makes you squeal like a fucking stuck pig. Itâs mortifying. How the hell did he ever manage to fit that fat cock inside you?
You slap at his belly hard, writhing away.Â
âNo, nope, not gonna fit.â You wheeze.
Ghost pulls back, and you can read the disappointed slant of his mouth and he reaches down to grip the base of his cock. Now that you get another look at it, you take a deep breath. Itâs still well-lubed with your spit and the pink cockhead is shiny with your slick.Â
Itâs big, but you know you can take it. You just⌠you need better leverage.
Your jaw clenches in determination. âI need to be on top.â
Thereâs a moment of silence as those words settle between you, as though Ghostâs brain is buffering. Then his lips start curving up into that semi-familiar smug smile, and he rolls the two of you over so that heâs laying on his back in your bed with you perched clumsily atop his thighs.
His cock juts up proudly, practically bobbing as it leaks prespend down his length. He settles back, folding his arms behind his head as he watches you â the position makes his biceps bulge in a way that is very appealing and also most likely unintentional.
âGo on.â He encourages, as hungry and wanting as youâve ever heard him. âAll yours, gorgeous.â
All yours, your brain repeats, the words echoing around your skull until youâre certain that your head is empty but for that. You want him so much it makes you feel dizzy.
You shuffle forward until your pussy is hovering over the blood-flushed head of his cock. The cute pink blush has started to darken into a red that looks painful, and you take a little breath at the idea of helping him out with his little problem.
You lower yourself down so that the tip of Ghostâs cock is lined up with your entrance and begins pressing in, stretching you wide and slipping in inch by inch. You gasp desperately as youâre speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open.
Though youâre the one controlling the pace, it still seems overwhelming, all-encompassing. You can feel your cunt stretching wide and taut around the width of him, fluttering as Ghost groans in dazed appreciation.
You glance up at him, to see that his eyes are a little unfocused, missing the intensity that theyâve had all night. His gaze is flickering from the way your cunt is sliding down on his cock to your breasts to your face, so fast as if heâs trying to take it all in before it disappears.
His oversized hands come to rest on your hips, and you half expect him to pull you down impatiently on his cock. But he doesnât, they just rest there as though he needs to ground himself. His stomach is tensed so tight you know that his abs will be sore in the morning, and to your delight you can see a lovely pink flush climbing across his lightly-haired chest.
You keep your eyes on his half-masked face as you slowly rock your way down onto the length of him, your breath occasionally hitching. Though he doesnât rush you, you can feel the way his fingers twitch on your hips and the way his jaw grinds, and all those little tells only increase your excitement.
Youâre so full you feel like youâre about to break in half, and Ghostâs gaze on you feels like a physical weight, but you donât stop. You wiggle clumsily, trying to take him deeper and unintentionally pulling gruff groans out of him every time your body tightens.
Then, finally, you take him to the hilt. He groans, his eyes half-lidded as he watches the way your body sits perched on his lap, little tremors rocking through you as you adjust to his size inside.Â
âThatâs my girl.â Ghost says, and the praise comes out on the edge of a growl. âFuck, itâs like you were made for me.â
Tingling heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over him as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system â youâve never heard Ghost sound so soft and wanting.
One of his hands reaches between you, one big thumb settling right over your swollen clit. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.
âWould you have gone back to his quarters?â He asks, and the seemingly non-sequitur is too much for your dazed, cock-stupid mind to keep with.
âHuh?â You breathe, tentatively rocking your hips and moaning softly as his cock hits just right inside.
âThe guy at the bar.â Ghost clarifies, his voice deep and a little irritated. âThe one who was all over you. Would you have gone back with him?â
Oh, you think a little wryly. You should have known that heâd be a big possessive bastard.
âI donât know.â You say, but youâre barely paying attention. Youâve started to rock for real now, and it feels good. Your rhythm is barely more than a slow grind â you think, distantly, that you should be lifting yourself up and down and fucking yourself properly, but grinding so that he hits deep and your clit rubs up against his pubic bone just feels so fucking intense.
âWaste of your time.â He grunts, his grip tight on your hips as he watches you hump lazily. âJesus, look at the way youâre sucking me in. Cuntâs so fussy, she was just waiting for me.â
The worst part is, you think he might be right. You had been touching yourself every night this week, trying and failing to recreate the high he had brought you to. The touch just wasnât the same, and no matter how close you got you just couldnât fall over that damn ledge.
âYeah,â You whine, hardly even aware of what youâre agreeing to. The sweet ache of the stretch has almost disappeared now, and you hump back onto his cock with abandon. Your chest is heaving as you pant, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but thereâs nowhere else to go because heâs filling you up so completely.Â
You tip forward, grabbing clumsily at his shoulders for balance as your face smushes against the cushiony softness of his pecs. God, heâs so strong, itâs like your body weight is nothing to him â he just accepts your whole body leaning into him, humming in satisfaction.
Tentatively, you lift yourself up a few inches so you can ease back down. You repeat the movement a few more times, and then youâve established a steady pace of fucking yourself on his cock.Â
âSimon,â You gasp, and it comes out in a whimper thatâs far more pathetic than you had intended. âAm Iâ am I doing good?â
Heâs gritting his teeth â you can see the tense line of his jaw as he tilts his head back, watching your face as you bounce stumblingly on his cock.
âLike I said, lovie, youâre a natural.â He says, exhaling harshly through his nose. âGimme a kiss.â
When you lean forward to kiss him, the angle shifts and all of a sudden he's hitting the spot that makes your knees go weak. Your thighs are already burning from the exertion of riding him, but you whine desperately.
âThere.â You moan into Ghostâs mouth, the two of you sharing air as you pant against each otherâs lips. âOh god, pleaseââ
The muscles in his thighs ripple as he lifts his hips to meet yours as you bounce down, and then all of a sudden heâs fucking into you from below. The strength in his hips almost bodily lifts you every time he fucks up, though you almost thwart his every thrust as you try to grind on him again, trying to get his cock to hit just right again.
Fuck, your legs are tired and your knees are aching, but you can feel that glorious build up in your tummy again. Ghost has taken over most of the heavy lifting now too; instead of relying on you to bounce up and down, heâs drilling into that one spot inside you that sends liquid heat shooting up your spine.
Your mouth is hanging open and youâre pretty sure that youâre drooling all over his lovely, soft chest, but it just feels so good. You donât understand how he does this, how he makes it feel so good for you. You think, a little wildly, that maybe your cunt was made for him.
âFuckinâ Christ, youâre so tight,â Ghost grunts, and his chest rumbles beneath your smushed cheek. âGonna come again for me, sweetheart? Go on, cream on me.â
You didnât actually think you were that close to another orgasm, despite how good it feels, but maybe Ghost knows you and your pussy better than you know yourself because you feel yourself go tight and gushy, nonsensical gasping and babbling spilling from your lips. The soft squelching noises your pussy makes as his cock fucks up into you is obscene, enough to make your nipples go tight and tingly.
Then his thumb rolls hard against the swollen bud of your clit and youâre gone. You think you might actually scream, but itâs muffled against the now drool-covered expanse of his thick, bulging pecs.Â
You let out a choked out wail as your orgasm rips through you like an electric shock, leaving you trembling madly in its wake. You swear you come apart completely, unravelling at the edges as you writhe in his lap, grinding wildly even as he continues to fuck you through it.Â
You donât get even a moment of reprieve, because Ghost keeps going through the waves of your orgasm. He pulls you up to kiss you, sloppy and dirty, and then starts thrusting for all heâs worth. Youâre put in mind of bull-riding, and your thighs clench hard as you try to stay seated as he bucks against you.
It's the most unravelled youâve ever seen him. Ghost is always cool and in control, always meeting everything with smug, arrogant confidence. To see him glowing with sweat, his mouth lolled open under his rumpled balaclava as he snarls and grunts and fucks into you like an animal feels like a drug so heady you know youâre already addicted.
This is not the lazy rhythm of before; heâs uncoordinated and frantic, kissing you hard and messy as he shoves his cock up into you so hard that youâre sure itâs going to leave a permanent impression inside you. Maybe thatâs what heâs aiming for. You take it easily, split open and pliant and soft and wet.
Youâre oversensitive and shivery, breathing hard and whimpering on every other thrust, but you donât complain. It only takes a handful of thrusts before Ghost finishes with a bitten off snarl, his jaw clenching and head tipping back as he pulls you off him just in time for his cock to spurt several thick ropes of creamy cum between you. Most of it lands on your belly, dripping down onto your pussy like icing on a cake, but some of it spurts onto Ghostâs own soft belly too.
It makes a mess, but you donât care. You feel so dreamy-floaty happy right now, your limbs floppy and rubbery as you slump down onto his chest. He catches you easily, and lays you down gently onto the bed.Â
You grumble when he moves, but you remember this part from last time. You donât bother opening your eyes; you know heâll come back.
Sure enough, he returns within moments, and you feel a warm, wet cloth wiping at your belly and inner thighs. You part your legs, pleased with the feeling of being looked after. When you blink your eyes open again, you see that heâs pulled the mask back down to cover his lovely, talented mouth. You try not to be too disappointed over that. His eyeblack is smeared too; it gives the impression of total debauchery.Â
âYou alright, love?â He asks, and you realise that youâve just been staring blankly at him.
âYeah.â You mumble, stretching your body out like a cat. Now that youâve been given a moment, you can feel all those little aches flare to life between your legs, around your hips, and up the base of your spine. You wince, but donât complain.
To your delight, Ghost climbs back into bed with you. Heâs a little too big for the standard issue frame, but youâre more than happy to roll on top of him and cuddle close to conserve space. He seems similarly happy to have you all laid out on his chest, because he presses his masked face to the top of your head and inhales slowly.
âAre you staying, this time?â You ask quietly. You think you know the answer after your conversation earlier, but you canât quite help the little pulse of insecurity.
âAs long as youâll have me.â He says, low in the quiet of the room. His tone is thick with significance, like heâs talking about more than just staying the night, and his fingers are sure and steady as he traces absent-minded little patterns down the length of your spine.
You swallow, heart racing, and rest your cheek against his chest. The steady thump, thump, thump of his own heart soothes you, and you bite your lip. Heâs so solid, reliable. Youâd trust him with your life, with anything.Â
You glance down, your eyes curiously seeking out his now softening cock. Itâs laying in a bed of his blond curls at his crotch, and it looks so unthreatening when itâs flaccid. You admire the shape of it absently, feeling a little thrill of excitement at the sight of it. You canât lie to yourself and say you donât feel a little possessive, either.
âAre we dating now?â You ask quietly. Youâre not able to look him in the eye when you ask it, so you keep your face turned down. You donât think you could handle seeing his expression if his answer is no.
Thereâs a pause. His hand halts the sweet patterns heâd been drawing on your back.
âWas that a question for me, or my cock?â He asks. He seems to be aiming for his usual sort of dry humour, but his tone comes out a little guarded, as though heâs actually not sure.
You raise your head, stifling your insecurity, and make eye contact with him. Those pretty brown eyes, so warm when theyâre looking at you like this.
âYou,â You say.
Thereâs another pause, and then his hand starts tracing its way over your bare back again.
âYeah,â Ghost says, and the corners of eyes crinkle. âStuck with me now, lovie.â
#okayyyy here we go!#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod smut
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Posttimeskip/Canon!Bakugo Katsuki NSFW Alphabet
Thanks for 100 follows :-P
(((Black girlfriend reader mentioned a few times, if you are not black or a girl you can obviously ignore it.)))
A = Aftercare (what theyâre like after sex)
You were his first everything so with that you wanted to teach him just a few things like aftercare. However, Bakugo already had to down to a science. He didnât like sleeping in sweat and cum so heâd offer you to take a shower while he puts new sheets on the bed and he joins you a little later. He noticed how thirsty you get after so heâd bring a water bottle and some juice/tea, maybe even a sweet snack if you donât fall asleep too soon. A lot of this stuff was common sense except the cuddle part. Itâs not like he didnât want to hold you after it was just awkward for him. He just had you cross eyeâd and crying on his dick now you him to be held and babied? But after some reassurance that you definitely do and you also wanted to make sure if you did good. âOf course you did dumbass you always do.â Is what he could huff out hearing such nonsense.
Post nut clarity Bakugo is softer, more touchier somehow and quiet. Heâd much rather hear your yapping and he just responds with âYeah.â âOf courseâ âNo. dumbassâ with a lot of kissing in between of course
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partnerâs)
Yeah we all know he loves ass. He does, shamelessly so, smacking it while eating you out, smacking it when your back is faced him, patting it while you lay on his lap . But he loves your lips just as much. Theyâre like pillows, bouncy, and incredibly soft. Itâs like a sweet flavor as well knowing you always have different types of lipgloss to wear.
I donât think he is very particular of any part of his body, but since dating you, you love to talk about his back and arms, the way you hug him from behind or grab onto his arm walking through a crowd. More importantly how you scratch his back when heâs inside you and claw his shoulders when he keeps overstimulating you. Itâs become partial motivation to his workout now.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Bakugo actually practices safe sex 90% of the time. He isnât prepared to have any children yet and he doesnât want any scares so he does at least buy the ULTRA thin condoms. However. The day you finally let him w/o a condom for his birthday he almost came faster than usual which actually made him upset LMAOO.
âWhat theâF-FFUCK!â
âY-Yâokââ
âI AM!âŚjustâŚfuck this feel good.â
So he will cum in you or on your ass, and smack it with his dick because he seems clean but heâs such a dirty bastard at heart.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He doesnât keep many secrets from you but the few are really only justified. The first one was that when you both were making out for the first time you grinded against his semi hard dick and he let out a soft moan in your mouth. You never pointed it out but it sounded so hot and it almost threw him off because he never made that noise before. After that, for the next few months before you both finally had sex he thought of that feeling alone to get off when masturbating. Not his finest moment but he couldnât help it.
He likes when you pull his hair but you only did it once and heâll be damned if he asks you to do it again. Do it again
Another one would be when you and him were just talking and not having sex yet he used to only watch porn where the people looked similar to you. So heâd sometimes type up Asian guy x black girl or some shit. He was actually using it to mentally prepare himself for when he does fuck you and itâs something he isnât ready to ever tell you because he knows getting sex advice from porn is absolutely terrible.
Speaking of getting prepared he also asked Kiri for some advice on how to eat you out. Bakugo used to watch a lot of oral sex videos and honestly he really was most nervous about that part, heâs aware he wasnât the best kisser at first and the last thing he wanted to do was bite you or something so he simply asked his best friend that loss his virginity before him the question: âWhere is the clit?â
He swore Kiri to secrecy to never speak of that conversation again after that.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what theyâre doing?)
A virgin up until he dated you. Like I said youâre his first everything so teaching him was actually something you were expected to do, however his pride always got the best of him so when you corrected him heâd always get pissy.
âMy clit is hereââ
âI fucking know that.â
So instead of verbally telling him what to do you you showed him with your body, moaning louder when he hits or licks the right spot, praising him when he uses the right move. He caught onto this quick and by the time it was the 2nd round he was damn near perfect
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
A lot of people say backshots but I personally think Lotus and honorable mention is missionary Hear me out: Bakugo gives vanilla. He just does he doesnât need all the special positions and areas to fuck he just wants you, him, and a comfortable surface preferably a bed or couch. He doesnât want to be perceived as some sex freak or anything he is very simple when it comes to sex. Mostly because heâs so shy but wonât admit it.
The Lotus Position is something that actually overwhelms him in the best way possible. Your foreheads touching, your breast pushed up against his as he assist your push to keep grinding and bouncing against him, FUCK does he love the noises you make in his ear when youâre close too, biting him as you cum. He kisses you a lot too to swallow some of your sounds. How your hands creep onto his neck moaning his name. Plus he is squeezing your ass as you both move in sync. He loves it.
Missionary is almost a ties in because he feels he has the most control. Yeah he can be soft but he still loves to be in charge. He likes the intimacy that comes with these positions so best believe itâs a go to.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Unintentionally. He has always been so funny to you, but he likes it believe he is serious during sex. Yet you canât help but giggle when he makes a comment about blaming you for making him get so close to cumming.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He has a visible happy trail. Doesnât grow much so he never needs to trim it, he was going to cut it off the day after you had sex with him the first time and you were able to stop him. Bakugo wanted to make his pelvic area smooth for you because he was worried his hair was itchy to you, once you explained it felt good to feel it on your pussy when he fucked you he havenât touched it since.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
WellâŚ.he can try. You can tell when he tries but bless his heart he is so damn aggressive on accident. He once tried to give you a massage but his own sweat mixed with the oil cause his hand to slip so much to the point he got mad and pop a small explosion on your lower back.
You still have the small burn mark and laugh at it from time to time. He doesnât laugh though he regrets it a lot.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He masturbatesâŚoften. He has for years and even after graduating high school he only did it every other day or week when he was really tense or couldnât sleep. But ever since he got with you it stopped.
Because you do it for him.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Heâd tell you he doesnât have any. Which is half true.
He is pretty vanilla, BUT from the last few times you tried something new you noticed he enjoyed a couple things:
Overstimulation is always fun, he used to do it on accident. Now, itâs almost expected to happen after oral or penetrative sex. Something about that second orgasm really puts him in a whole â other cloud 9 he canât even explain. Itâs the rarest times heâs ever selfish with you sexually.
Praise Kink 100000%. Itâs so funny to see the frustrated look on his face of focusing to not cum when youâre in his ear telling him how amazing he is and how nobody else could make you feel this way. Gets him hard every time.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He does enjoy the bed, but he has a huge couch in his dorm, he ate you out a few times during a movie and it led to you on top riding him. It felt so cozy falling asleep after that now 90% of the movie nights yâall have in his dorm leads to something not so wholesome.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You.
Your reactions, your twitches, your moans, the way you say his name it all drives him more to keep going and practicing to get better for you. He absolutely loses his MIND the way you cry out for him too.
N = No (something they wouldnât do, turn offs)
He will not ever do anything like humiliation or too much violence like slapping your face. He knows he can be abrasive as it is on accident and even the thought of going to far and harming you would possibly cause him to take a pause on sex no matter how much he loves it
I am 50/50 on somno. I believe he wants you alert to what heâs doing to you for his own peace of mind. But he wouldnât be opposed to him waking up to YOU touching him.
Heâs not a big fan of âdaddyâ, he wonât stop what heâs doing but heâd rather hear his name or âbabyâ or even a nickname you made out of his name.
You will not peg him. He is very sensitive about his ass.
No threesomes or anybody watching. Call him selfish, but your body is his in his mind so heâd prefer if nobody sees what you have only blessed him with.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
LOVES giving. Way more than he will admit, there has been days where heâd finish sparring with someone and to release the stress he had from Deku almost beating his ass again he came to your dorm and offered to lay between your thighs as you studied.
You didnât get much studying done.
Heâs improved on his skill too. However heâs constantly messy, itâs not just kitten licks with this man he sucks and fingers and even nibbles on you like heâll never eat you again. Itâs almost selfish.
He loves the feel of your pussy against his tongue, he doesnât taste much. If you were to ask him what you taste like he would say nothing, really but the warm, slimy slick just does something to him. If he could heâd eat you for hours
Now that doesnât mean he doesnât love seeing you gag and swallow his dick absolutely not. When you both started getting more physical you actually sucked his dick quite often (since he was afraid to eat you out at the time) he would actually anticipate on it whenever you both were alone so heâd keep his sweats incredibly low to his waist on purpose
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Bakugo an intense guy so he starts off slow and his touches gradually turn more focused towards your reactions. Heâs consistently looking into your eyes with every noise you make, each thrust is deep and nearly knocks the wind out of you. Itâs not until heâs close he begins to chase that high, breathing into your mouth, circling your clit w his fingers, and going faster with slightly shallow thrusts.
Heâs a big kisser btw so be prepared for little to no air because if heâs not kissing your low lips heâs kissing your upper lips with each thrust swallowing your cries
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Hates em.
The idea is always fun to him but when he realizes he has to stop right when heâs getting started he hates it. He wants to take his time. He probably enjoys foreplay the most which is why he canât stand having to make it short.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Bakugo is pretty stubborn and doesnât like too much change but if youâre willing to reassure him about what you want he may consider. It canât be any of the no though.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Man can last a while. He can even if heâs sensitive, but he can last EVEN LONGER in between breaks. Just as long as you cock warm him. An average night of sex with him is usually 30-35 minutes, but including foreplay is actually an all day thing. Foreplay can start from the moment you wake up and heâs kissing you good morning all the way to that evening when you both are showering together and his fingers are creeping between your thighs
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesnât understand toys but if youâre willing pick like a vibrator he wouldnât mind it. You just canât use it too much, he has read those things can fuck up your sensitivity and heâll be DAMNED if he loses to a TOY
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Bakugo actually wasnât that much of a teaser until you brought it out of him. When he went down on your once he kept kissing and biting your thighs for WAY too long that you began to whine his name. Once he heard that pretty little âpleaseâ slip through your tongue something just snapped. He loves to hear you beg now so occasionally heâll edge you or tease you a bit before giving you what you want.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Heâs not that loud. A few mumbles of your name and a couple groans is the most youâll get because he wants to hear you more. When heâs close heâll begin to say a few âcum with meâ âcum for meâsâ which is so hot to hear since his voice breaks when heâs cumming
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He learned sign language through out the years after finding out his hearing was becoming worse and he taught you as well. Now you both communicate in public through SL, and a few times he said the nastiest shit to you across the room during a lecture.
Bonus: Heâs a big PokĂŠmon nerd. Loves Gengar, Charizard, and Growlithe.
Bonus two: He has a secret tattoo he got when he turned 21
X = X-ray (letâs see whatâs going on under those clothes)
Bakugo is a more length than girth guy. Heâs a shower and cut. About 7.8ish inches and it curves to the left. He also had a beauty mark on the left side of his shaft and pelvic area.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Yâall have sex about 4-5 times a week. If yall miss a week spike it up to 6 because he needs to release some stress
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
You fall asleep before him so after taking care of you and cleaning you up he usually waits until youâre sleep and follows suit. Sometimes when youâre still yapping and heâs ready to go to bed heâll gently fan your eyelids to close with his fingers. Somehow it works everytime and you slowly stop talking a dm cuddle in his chest.
#mha#bakugo katuski#bakugo smut#bakugo x black reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#mha smut#mha x black female reader#mha x black reader#mha x reader#virgin bakugo#bakugo#mha x black fem#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha headcanons#mha spoilers#bakugo headcanons#bakugo x black female#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader
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Blowing Off Steam
summary: in which you're very stressed, and sparring is the only way you can destress. you're having trouble finding a partner though, so logan volunteers to help.
pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mild swearing, fingering, some dirty talk, lots of horny thoughts, 18+ MDNI
author's note: ahhhh sweaty logan on a fighting mat is all i need. anyways, thank you guys sm for the response on my other fic, as a gift i bring you smut ;)
â˘âââŚâââ˘
Youâre stressed. Youâve been overworking yourself, you know it, and you need to relax, destress. Your body feels wound up with tension and energy, and youâre unable to release it. Itâs not like you have super complicated abilities that mess with your mind and make you lose your shit, no - thatâs Jeanâs set of troubles, not yours. Your ability is simple enough - super strength.Â
So what is it that isnât simple then? Right. Someone you can actually truly train with and exert yourself out with. There arenât a load of people who can physically keep up with your strength, not except Colossus, and even heâs just a kid. So when, at times, you want to blow some steam by training, you have next to no one to do it with.Â
Or, you didnât, not until Logan came along. Youâve sparred with him a couple of times, but only for excessively short periods of time, due to you not being able to keep your shit together because of his overwhelming attractiveness. Honestly, you donât think itâs your fault that youâre unable to focus; his arms look like he could rip apart logs of wood with them, his shoulders are so wide that theyâre practically made for people to rest their ankles on, and his demeanor - his understated, wolfish demeanor makes you go insane.Â
And as if all these things werenât bad enough on their own, they tend to get exponentially exemplified whenever you guys spar. Obviously, fighting makes him breathe hard and stuff. So your life becomes even tougher.Â
Really, you arenât trying to be horny around him all the time. But thatâs the thing. Youâre pent up, stressed, overworked. Being a member of the X-Men means that it gets really hard to get laid due to several factors, and then when your coworkers are so hot? God help you.Â
As you sit on the gymâs bench, staring at the sparring mats, you strain your mind to think of someone to spar with. You could ask Colossus, the kidâs always more than ready and could give you some competition on one of your bad days. But thereâs too much of a risk. Youâre already restless with energy, itching to let yourself go; in case the kid isnât prepared or you get too excited, youâd end up hurting him, which is something you canât risk.Â
You could maybe go to Ororo and Scott, ask them to come at you together? The two of them together would successfully tire you out. Maybe theyâd become a bit more than youâre mentally willing to handle. You donât want to have to strategise at every step.Â
God, you just need someone who can handle whatever you throw at them without having to think too much. Unfortunately for you, thereâs only one person in the mansion who can do that.Â
âOh hey Bub, what you doing here? Got no classes to teach?â The somehow smooth but gravelly voice breaks you out of your train of thought as you turn to look at Logan, entering the gymnasium.Â
Internally rejoicing at his choice of clothes - the white wifebeater under the oversized jacket - while simultaneously praying that he isnât here to stay, you get up from your seat to speak to him. âOh, nothing much. Just wanted to blow off some steam.â
âAnd youâre blowing off steam by⌠sitting on the bench?â He raises an eyebrow, looking at you questioningly.Â
You sigh through your nose, smiling exhaustedly. âNo, genius. I was confused about what I should do to destress.â
Your prayers go down the drain as you notice his eyes light up at the prospect of a sparring partner. Nodding to the mats, he asks, âYou wanna go?â
Tongue in cheek, you review your options for a moment. Go to bed frustrated and stressed, or fight an extremely attractive man whoâs also able to keep up with you.Â
âSure, letâs go.âÂ
And thatâs how you find yourself attempting to elbow Logan in the face. He dodges and takes a step back, but not too far. Turning, you see the grin etched on his face. Taking it as a challenge, you feign a movement to the right, but attack from the left. Your arm aims for his face, but he deflects it by pushing your momentum to one side, stepping away and behind you and putting you into a headlock.
âWhatâs up?â he murmurs into your ear. âCanât figure out what to do? Are you really that tired, huh?âÂ
You felt his chest heave from behind you, his warm breath tickling your ear. Body humming with excitement and mind buzzing with the thrill of finally being in an equal match, you grit your jaw, throwing your head back against his. As much as you enjoy the tone of his voice, you hope it hits him in the mouth just so he can shut up, because being aroused is not something youâre looking forward to.Â
Yes youâre horny, maybe even a little perverted, but you truly donât have any ulterior motives.Â
Logan hisses as his grip on you loosens. Shimmying your way out of his grip, you lunge at him, arms ready to swing, but instead of throwing a punch when you get near, you use your leg to swipe at his legs, resulting in him landing on his back.
Silently rejoicing, you straddle him, pulling your arm back to land a punch on his jaw, but unfortunately he grabs hold of your arms before you can do that. As a result, youâre left heaving on top of him, arms immobile, face right above his. You donât miss the way he breathes, sweat trickling down his forehead, eyes glinting with something you canât fully identify. You also donât miss the dampness of your underwear, the electricity you feel where youâre sitting on him. You realize youâre playing a dangerous game. Just as youâre about to make a move to get up, Logan suddenly moves you by the grip he has on your arms, slamming you onto the mats with considerable force. He looms on top of you, looking down. You squeak in indignant surprise, but he pins your arms on both sides of your face, lodging his thigh between yours. You gasp, not expecting the sudden escalation of events. âDarling, you know Iâve got a heightened sense of smell, right?â he asks, drawling. âI can smell your arousal, practically feel how youâre soaking down there.â Eyes wide and mouth agape, you stare up at him, not sure what to say, how to apologize. âLogan, I- Iâm sor-â âDonât have to say a word, Darling, Iâm the same as you,â he emphasizes his point by rolling his hips against yours. You whimper quietly, feeling his erection pressing against your clit. âIf Iâm not interpreting this correctly, you can stop me,â he hums, getting closer to your face. Waiting for your approval, he looks at you. You close the distance between the both of you, borderline moaning as you feel his tongue grazing against your lips, asking to enter your mouth. More than willing, you grant him entry freely, whimpering as his tongue explores your mouth. You break the kiss, short of breath, but your distance doesnât last long. Logan is sloppily making out with you as he grinds against you. Your bodies move hurriedly, in urgent need of release.Â
âLo,â you gasp between the kisses, âneed you so bad, please.â He complies, hands leaving your arms as he gets on his haunches and quickly unbuttons your pants, pulling them down. His hand moves to your pussy, thumb pressing against your clit, gauging your reaction. Your eyes widen due to the unexpected movement, and you gasp. Satisfied with your response, he rubs short, quick circles against your clit, stimulating you as he slowly pushes in one finger. You moan, hands reaching down to stop the sudden intrusion. Itâs been a while since youâve done this, so your bodyâs sensitivity is at an all-time high. Logan doesnât care, swatting away your hands, slipping in another finger. He moves them in shallow thrusts, stretching you out while looking for the spot thatâll finally get you wound up enough for his liking. You bite your lip to keep yourself silent, staring at the way Loâs fingers pump in and out of you, making a mess out of your cunt. Suddenly, his fingers press into that spot that youâre never quite able to reach yourself, making you let out a loud moan. âLo, Lo please, right there please, donât stop-â you break your own voice off with an even louder whimper, eyes closing due to the pleasure. Logan watches you with keen eyes trained on your face. He speeds up his fingers and thumb, enjoying your reaction thoroughly, as it ignites something deep within him. He palms himself lightly, hissing as he realizes how hard he is. âShit, darling, you make me insane,â he mumbles, guiding one of your hands to the bulge in his jeans, making you feel him. Your mouth falls open with a little âoh,â as you feel him. You try to palm him to relieve some of his tension, but fail as his fingers pump in and out of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. âO- oh God, Lo, Iâm cumming, please please please-â you moan loudly as your orgasm crashes over you, thrashing on the mat. Logan holds down your hips, continuing his languid movements, easing you out of the feeling in waves. As you finally relax, catching your breath, you look up at him, unsure of what comes next. Usually by this point, guys tended to take their own pants off. Loganâs were still very much on. Before you could verbalize your confusion, he speaks. âI think weâve blown enough steam off in the gym,â he chuckles. âI donât want Charles to gimâme looks the entire month. I say we take this upstairs bub, what dâya say?â
You stare up at him, wondering why heâs even asking, when thereâs only one possible answer you could make out through the haziness of your mind. âYes, letâs go.â
#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett#hugh jackson#poolverine#wade wilson#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#logan wolverine#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#the wolverine#x men#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman wolverine#smut#blurb
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my girl
masterlist
requests are open
summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to
word count: 2k.
warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing
a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write
You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your fatherâs small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect.Â
The place itself looked truly magicalâdecorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kookâs territory, and even with your familyâs bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.
Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his sonâs best friends in order to check how everything was going.Â
As soon as your eyes met Rafeâs, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were.Â
You didnât know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldnât resist him.Â
It wasnât that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasnât bad. Rafe Cameron wasnât an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.Â
You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you.Â
Rafeâs eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it.Â
He may or may not be responsible for Wardâs choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldnât, right? At least not until he properly talked to you.Â
âDamn, sheâs hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.â The moment words left Topperâs mouth, Rafeâs heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake.Â
âShut your fucking mouth.â Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend.Â
âI would appreciate you both watching your language.â Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it.Â
Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.
Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them.Â
âMr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.â Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didnât even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you.Â
You didnât even wait for Wardâs response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didnât even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around.Â
âWhat do you want from me?â You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. âDonât touch me, Rafe.â
âThis is not what you think it is.â He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear.Â
âOh no? Isnât it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?â You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation.Â
âNo. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. Iâm serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.âÂ
âStop doing it, Rafe!â You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. âStop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you wonât have anything serious with me. Iâm not rich, Iâm not a kook and Iâm not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?â You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. âI just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.âÂ
âYouâre not stupid, Y/N. I donât care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explainââ
"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because youâre too good to be around me.â You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.
âIâm an asshole. I know it. I know that I didnât put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.â He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didnât want it to be that way, fuckâŚâ Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.
âYou should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?â Your voice broke at the end.
âI didnât tell them anything!â
âWell, I donât believe you, Rafe!â You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafeâs eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back toââ
You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafeâs shirt to tug on it.Â
He didnât rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. Itâs been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldnât. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin.Â
âEveryone can see us.â You mumbled into his mouth.Â
âI donât fucking care, Y/N.â He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldnât have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.â Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against yourâsomething that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I donât want it to end.â
âMe neitherâŚâ You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.
âSince everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?âÂ
âTake me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.â
âNo, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. Iâll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.â Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.
âYouâre joking, right?â You pulled away, laughing. âI donât have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasnât invited.âÂ
âThatâs why Iâm taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, youâll be my plus one.â He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies.Â
âIâm your girl?âÂ
Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. âYeah, you are my girl.â
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n
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A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton
Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: none
wordcount: +3k
a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
_______________________________________
The room was buzzingâcameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.
Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.
The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.
He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.
âOkay, so this should be easyâ he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didnât want to disturb the coupleâs chemistry âNo serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. Weâre here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, yâknow, juicy enough to make people smile.â
Lewisâs wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husbandâs space, raised an eyebrow. âDefine juicyâ a sly smile tugging at her lips.
The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. âYou know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people donât already know. Maybe embarrass him a littleâ" he motioned to Lewisâ"but in a cute way.â
Lewis shot the director a mock glare âRight, you donât really need to ask her thatâ he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.
His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. âPromise not to dig too deep. Unless weâre talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...â
Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. âNot the beach sneakers again! One time and Iâm branded for life.â
The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.
There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.
The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. âAlright, alright. Letâs save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, itâs just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.â
His wife reached over and squeezed Lewisâs hand. âNo promises.â
As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gesturesâthe way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.
They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.
The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wifeâs chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.
Except this wasnât quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.
The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.
âAlright, letâs get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?â
Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. âIâll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.â
She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. âBandanas?â she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. âYou sure it wasnât the Timberlands?â
Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. âNot the Timbs,â he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.
âYeah, the Timbsâ she said, fully grinning now. âLet me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suitsââ
Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. âI still stand by those, alright? I donât care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.â
She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. âSure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.â
The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.
âOkay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?â
Lewisâs wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. âHis sense of style,â she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.
Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. âSeriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guyâs sense of style?â
For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at himâhis bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crackâshe broke. Her laugh wasnât exactly loud but it filled the room.
âOkay, fine!â She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. âIt was your eyes.â
Lewisâs eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.
She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. âTheyâre intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... itâs impossible not to notice.â
Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. âWell, damnâ he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.
The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.
âNext oneââOn what occasion have you lied to me?ââ
Lewisâs eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. âUh⌠Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?â
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. âNo. Youâre telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!â
He winced, trying to play it cool. âI mean⌠It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didnât think youâd notice.â
âOh, I noticed,â she said, crossing her arms. âI just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!â
The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.
âRoscoe was the perfect scapegoatâŚâ Lewis defended himself.
âMy poor babyâ she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. âYou threw him under the bus!â
âHe didnât seem to mind,â Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. âBut hey, I bought you new onesâ
She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.
âHave I ever made you jealous?â
Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. âShe has, yes.â
His wifeâs eyebrows shot up in surprise. âOh? When exactly?â
He didnât answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. âCome on, give me the details.â
Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. âThe silver dressâ he said, voice low.
For a second, she didnât react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. âOhhh, that night!â
Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.
âThat night was somethingâ she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.
Lewis sighed, shaking his head. âIâm glad you think it was so funny.â
âOh, babe, you were so grumpyâ she teased, nudging him with her foot.
Lewis didnât respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.
âWhatâs a song that reminds you of each other?â
This time, she didnât even hesitate. âA Life Like This by Nao.â
Lewisâs face softened immediately. âWhy that one?â
She smiled, but it wasnât her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. âBecause... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasnât really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.â
For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed himâno amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.
He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. âYouâre really gonna get me emotional, huh?â he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.
She just smiled; her eyes full of love. âThatâs the plan.â
The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.
âWhatâs something you wish you did more often?â
Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. âLazy mornings.â
She smiled, nodding. âYeah?â
âYeahâ he said softly, his eyes on her. âNo alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.â
She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. âYeah.â
Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.
âOkay love birds, next up âWhat is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?ââ
She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. âThe necklace you gave me on our third date.â
The director blinked, looking between them. âThird date?â
âOh yeahâ she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. âHe was whipped by then.â
Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. âYou make it sound like I was proposing marriage.â
âYou werenât far off, thoughâ she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. âHe gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, âOkay, this guy is serious.ââ
Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. âI knew what I wanted.â
âThat you didâ she teased, nudging him with her elbow.
âYeahâ he grinned. âNo point in playing games.â
She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. âItâs not just the necklace though. Itâs what it represented. He was showing me he wasnât just there for funâhe was there for real.â
Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. âI meant it then, and I mean it now.â
âWhen did you first know that you were in love?â
This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. âIn love with whom?â she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. âOh, donât start.â
She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. âI knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.â
Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. âOh, didnât remember that.â
âYeah,â she said softly. âI couldâve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.â
Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiledâa soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.
âWhatâs your favorite memory of the two of you?â
Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. âThat time we missed the flight in Paris.â
She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. âNooo, not that!â
âYep,â Lewis said with a smile. âSo we were in Paris, right? And someoneââ he pointed at her playfully, ââwas absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.â
âIt wouldâve!â she protested, already laughing. âThe traffic was insane!â
âYeah sureâ he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. âSo there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, âLetâs just get a cab,â but nooo, you were determined.â
She shook her head, smiling. âIt was an adventure!â
âIt was chaos and we missed the flight by hoursâ Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.
âBut honestly? Itâs one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we werenât lost within ourselves.â
Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. âYou never told me that was your favorite memory.â
âYeahâ he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. âI felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.â
For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.
She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch âI think thatâs my favorite memory now, too.â
Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras werenât even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.
The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.
âAlright, now to wrap this up âWhen can we expect little Hamiltons running around?â
Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughingâonly this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didnât.
Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. âOoooh, good one.â
âYou had to go there, didnât you?â she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. âReal smooth.â
The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. âWell, you never know, right?â
His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. âWhen you least expect itâ
The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. âAny plans in the near future?â
âOh, besides, like, tomorrowâs plans?â she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.
Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. âWeâve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoeâs bath timeâŚâ
The director chuckled, shaking his head. âDodging the question, I see.â
Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. âWeâll let you know when it happens... maybe.â
And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called âcutâ for the final time.
The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.
Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.
âThat was a bit mushy, wasnât it?â she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. âJust a little. But you started it.â
She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. âTouâre not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.â
He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.
She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. âGood. I like you better that way.â
She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. âPeople are going to think weâre a pair of softies.â
Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. âLet them.â
She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. âI guess itâs not the worst thing to be.â
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. âNah, itâs not.â
Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rollingâjust a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.
Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.
For a second, she stiffenedâmore out of surprise than anythingâbut then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.
âAlright, lover boyâ she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. âWhatâs all this about?â
âJust holding youâ he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. âFeels like we havenât had a minute to ourselves in forever.â
She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck âYouâll get them,â she promised quietly. âWeâll make time.â
Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. âYou know,â he started, his tone teasing âabout those Timbs.â
She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. âI thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.â
âI never agreed to thatâ he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. âIâm still rocking them, remember?â
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. âWell, at least one of us has evolved.â
He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. âMaybe. But you love me anyway.â
âI do,â she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. âI really do.â
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