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n0thingbutlov3 · 3 months

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need you now

in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

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nadvs · 7 months

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cam girl (part eight)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

His breath is hot against your cheek, his body enclosing yours.

Behind Rafe, the door to the rest of this house is shut, but anyone could walk in at any minute.

It didn’t even cross your mind the day you were up in his bedroom with him that someone could come in, because why would they?

But the laundry room is a public area. The risk of being found is dangerous and alluring at the same time.

You never expected you’d think this way and feel so excited from such a risk, but then again, Rafe has turned your world upside down.

Your back is flush against the closet door. You feel Rafe’s hand move from your wrist to the hem of your uniform, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh under your dress.

“After everything I do for you… and you’re flirting with a guy in my fucking house,” he mutters.

“I wasn’t, baby,” you whisper, stirred by his jealousy.

“Why were you smiling at him like that?” Rafe asks, his eyes narrowing as his hand squeezes your thigh hard. It’s so fucking exciting that he’s this impassioned with envy, all over a ten-second conversation you had with another man.

“I was just being nice,” you say.

“Just being nice,” he mocks. “I’m getting that asshole fired.”

“Rafe,” you say. “I’m yours. You know that.”

“I have to make sure you know it, too, don’t I, baby?” His hand rises and presses roughly against your middle. You swallow hard. “I thought we said you weren’t gonna wear panties anymore.”

“I can’t…” You swallow hard. “I shouldn’t come to work like that.”

“You probably shouldn’t fuck who you work for, either,” he says, “but you do that all the time, don’t you?”

You feel him shift your panties to the side, the pads of his fingers pressing between your lips.

“Fuck,” you whisper in pleasure.

“Already wet,” he chuckles. “Already so fucking wet for me.”

He hitches your dress up. Thankfully, he’s wearing sweatpants and there aren’t any buttons or zippers to delay it any longer. He’s able to pull his pants down in one move.

Rafe roughly hikes your leg up. He bends to guide his cock into you, pushing your panties to the side, the sensation of doing this standing up so unbelievably hot.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, sharply exhaling with his first hard push into you, the back of your head hitting the door behind you.

He feels so fucking entitled to you, and you wonder if it’s from his life of wealth and luxury, from being used to getting whatever he wants.

“You… are… fucking… mine,” he mutters, with a hard thrust between each word. You dig your nails into his shoulder, the passion between you making your entire body hot.

“You have nothing to be jealous about, Rafe,” you say into his ear. “Nothing. Ever.”

He captures your lips in his. The gesture surprises you. He’s never been that big on kissing, preferring to watch while he fucks you. But his mouth is on you now, his tongue hot and pressing against yours.

You wonder if it’s silly to think he’s kissing you out of appreciation for your reassurance.

Rafe’s spit coats your bottom lip, hands tight on you, cock moving in and out of you.

Your keep your arm around his shoulders and your other hand finds his cheek, cradling his jaw, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“Nobody can make me feel like you do,” you tell him, your breath shallow and weaving into your words. “Or make my body do the things it does with you.”

You don’t know where trying to make him feel better ends and wanting to get this off your chest begins, but the words keep spilling out of you.

“He touched my shoulder,” you breathe, “just my fucking shoulder, and I swear to God, I thought about how wrong it felt that it wasn’t you.”

Rafe’s softening eyes fixate on yours as he penetrates you. It’s like his anger is losing its burn right in front of you.

“I belong to you,” you say.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice deep. The inside of his forearm is pressed against the back of your knee as he holds you up, and his arm starts to fall and tremble. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You can tell he’s about to reach his orgasm - it’s another surprise. He always lasts much longer. You’re almost sure that the sweet words you’re whispering to him are having this effect.

His thrusts aren’t as rough, his expression not as hard. Rafe is no longer angry or determined to prove a point. He’s simply savoring the feeling of being in your pussy. A sense of pride fills you when you realize your reassurance is what calmed him down.

You watch him, restless to show him how much you want him.

“Let me swallow your cum,” you moan. He stops driving into you for a second, looking down at you with a smirk, dimples deep.

“Yeah?” he rasps.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Rafe pulls out of you, lips parted as he huffs for air, and he watches you drop to your knees. Your eyes are on his as you hold his cock, putting him in your mouth.

He tilts forward, an arm leaning against the closet door.

Your lips are tight around him, your tongue swirling. You start to move faster, putting two hands on him, rolling your wrists as you suck his tip.

“Oh, my God,” Rafe says, his tone so gentle that it sounds like he’s thanking you. “You gonna swallow my whole load?”

“Yes,” you moan against his cock. You increase your pressure on his slick length, fingers tightening, mouth sucking harder.

This right here, bringing him to his climax, feels like the most important thing you’ll ever do.

His hot cum gushes out of him quickly, oozing into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. Your hands work him even faster, his cock twitching. Rafe looks down at you as you take everything he has to offer.

“Open your mouth,” he says. “I wanna see it in your mouth.”

You obey, parting your lips and tilting your head so you don’t lose a single drop.

“So fucking pretty,” he praises. You swallow and exhale in pleasure as the hot, salty liquid spills down your throat.

He leans to collect you off the floor, his hands scooping you up. You face him, pushing your dress down as he pulls the waistband to his sweatpants up to his hips.

“Let me guess,” you whisper with a small smile. “I can’t cum until later?”

Rafe looks down at you with gratification.

“Only ‘cause I’m gonna make you squirt again,” he tells you. You laugh at his promise, how casually he says something so vulgar.

The two of you share a smile, eyes locked, and the minute you’re living in together is so tender that you think if anyone could see you, they’d think this was a romantic moment, but it’s not, and you know you need to remember that.

“We could’ve gotten caught,” you say, pushing past him so you don’t have to be subjected to those beautiful fucking eyes any longer.

“I wouldn’t care,” Rafe says with a chuckle.

“Obviously you wouldn’t.” You open the dryer and start to unload the sheets you put in earlier. “But I’d lose my job.”

“Do you even need it?”

You still to look at him over your shoulder.

“Of course I do,” you laugh. Has he forgotten that not everyone has a trust fund? Does he think you enjoy living in your shoebox of an apartment?

“Even with… with what I’m giving you?” he asks. The $1000 cam shows, the extra tips, the random deposits he gives you all have put your bank account to a number you didn’t think you’d ever see, at least while you’re still a student.

But it’s not exactly a steady income like your cleaning job is. You don’t like to think about it, but Rafe could lose interest in you tomorrow for all you know. You can’t exactly rely on his money.

“Like that’ll last,” you say, trying to sound playful. “I still need a steady job, Rafe.” You just want to be honest. Fair. He doesn’t owe you loyalty, no matter how much you’d like it.

Rafe stuffs his hands into his pockets, hair hanging over his forehead as he looks down awkwardly.

Maybe it was too serious a thing to say. Maybe you sounded like you want him to make some sort of commitment, when he has shown you time and time again that you’re just a whore to him. A whore he gets off on owning.

The gentle, languid atmosphere you were sharing is now sharp, both of you stiff.

Suddenly, the door creaks open and you’re grateful for the interruption.

One of the other maids greets you with a nod, then when she notices Rafe, she looks confused to see him in the laundry room with you.

He silently walks past her, his tall frame pushing out the door, not looking at you again.

You spend the rest of your shift distracting yourself with work. Over your lunch break, you sit in the empty backyard, talking on the phone with one of your close friends about school and everything else outside of Rafe, not wanting to risk anyone overhearing anything about him.

Finally, it’s almost three o’clock, an hour left to your shift. You head to the second-storey lounge at the back of the estate to cross off what remains on your to-do list.

As you head down the corridor, the sounds of men’s voices grow louder. You recognize Rafe’s laugh, like a melody making your heart flutter.

You see through the lounge window that he and his friends are sitting out on the beach-facing balcony, day-drinking on a Wednesday afternoon. The relaxed life of the wealthy never ceases to amaze you.

This means his bedroom is empty. An idea strikes you suddenly. You’ll leave Rafe a present to get rid of the weird energy that grew between you earlier today.

You rush to sneak into his bedroom, shutting the door behind you. You keep the lights off, the afternoon sun peeking behind his blinds.

You take your phone out of your uniform’s front pocket and lean it on his bed frame. After you settle on your knees onto the soft mattress, you start to record a video and watch yourself in the small screen.

Inching the fabric of your dress up, you close your eyes as you think about Rafe. Your hand immediately presses between your legs.

“You were right, baby, I shouldn’t wear panties,” you whisper into the phone. “They just get soaked as soon as I think about you.”

You tilt to sit on your butt and pull your underwear down, then spread your legs open for the camera.

With your fingers running up and down your slit, you shut your eyes and let yourself daydream about Rafe.

“I don’t know where I like your cum the best,” you whisper into the empty room. “In my mouth, in my pussy, or in my ass. I want your cum everywhere… all over me.”

You dip a finger inside of you, letting you a soft moan. You think back to when he first confronted you in this very room, the way you pulled down the towel that sat around his hips down and tasted him for the first time.

“Remember when you came on my face right here on your bed?” you say.

You imagine him lying here and watching you on his screen.

“Fuck, the thought of you jerking off gets me so…” You almost get lost in the moment, let the orgasm pull you in, but you take your hand off yourself. It takes all the willpower you have not to finish, deciding to save yourself for tonight.

You notice your hands are shaking when you stop the recording. You’ll send it to him during your cam session tonight.

As a final treat for him, you leave your panties under his covers.

You set to walk out of the room, but when you see the t-shirt Rafe was wearing today strewn over his chair, you can’t fight the impulse to take it. You’ll wear it for him tonight.

You tuck it under your arm and drop it off in your bag before you head to the lounge to finish up your day of work.

Your heart is racing after what you just did.

When you see Rafe through the lounge window, sitting with a group of guys you’ve seen so many times before, leaning back with his long legs casually spread, you imagine straddling his lap like you did last night.

The sun is casting an orange glow on the planes of his handsome face and… God, you need to stop staring at him.

It’s just sex, you tell yourself. Just kinky, intense, unforgettable sex with a guy who occasionally has a soft side to him. That’s it.

You start to water the plants laid out across the sill, glancing up every so often to look at Rafe.

When he finally notices you, his expression seems to relax, eyes dancing over you.

He eventually drops his gaze, continuing his conversation with his friends, surely trying to play it off in case anyone caught him looking at you like that.

He wouldn’t have told his buddies he was hooking up with you, would he? Or maybe he would, keen to brag how he was fucking the help?

You finish up cleaning the room and you know it’ll torture him, but he loves to put you through crazy shit, so you return the favor.

Instead of waiting until later tonight, you send Rafe the video you just took along with a text: keep your sound off unless you want your friends to hear me moan.

You watch him through the window, waiting for him to feel the vibration of his phone in his pocket. Excitement buzzes through you when he shifts back, pulling his phone out.

He looks at the screen. Sharp blue eyes pierce you, the subtle shake of his head seeming like a warning. You watch his fingers press the side of his phone, muting his sound.

Rafe brings his phone up closer to his face, sinking back a bit to prevent anyone from seeing his screen.

He only lasts a few seconds of the minute-long video. You watch him awkwardly shuffle in his seat, adjusting his groin. He brings the phone down, his lips pursed in irritation as he gazes at you.

If looks could kill.

He texts you: are you fucking serious?

You smile at your phone and reply: oh and i think i forgot my panties in your bed. you can give them to me later. my shift’s over :) see you at 10.

You’re still riding the power trip when you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop open that night, wearing nothing but his shirt. It smells so damn good.

“Hey, baby,” you coo when Rafe joins the session, right on time. You run your hands up your body, squeezing your chest over his shirt. “I stole something today.”

figure8: thief

“It’s just so soft,” you giggle.

figure8: you’re in so much trouble for that fucking video

“I’m sorry,” you laugh. “Did you like it at least?”

figure8: of course i did

figure8: if you wanted my cum all over you, why didnt you just say so

The thought of Rafe covering you in his hot cum makes your stomach tighten. You shrug.

figure8: ur panties smell like you

You lick your lips, imagining him smelling the underwear you left for him. You start to rub your hard nipples over the soft material of his shirt.

Whatever happened in the laundry room is now a distant memory. Thankfully, you two are back in your groove.

figure8: stretch yourself open

You spread your legs for him, pulling apart your lips, the camera capturing you.

figure8: so fucking perfect

You tilt your head, flattered.

figure8: get urself close to cumming and tell me what ur thinking about like u did in ur slutty little video

You lean back, one hand holding you up while the other rests on your pussy. You start to rub up and down, watching yourself in the camera.

“Every time I’m in front of you like this, I’m thinking about how you’re touching yourself,” you say. “The thought of you jerking off is just so fucking hot to me.”

figure8: doing it right now

“Fuck,” you laugh, throwing your head back. “What do you think about when you do it?”

figure8: how good you feel around my cock

“Yeah?” you say. “Which part of me?”

figure8: your pussy is my favorite to think about

“That’s my favorite place for you to be, too.”

figure8: yeah you never want me to pull out

“Shut up,” you laugh.

figure8: my needy girl

You keep rubbing your clit, your breaths starting to get faster as you think about how he stayed inside you as long as you wanted last night.

figure8: keep talking baby what are u thinking about

“Last night, the…” you sigh in longing. “The way you kept your cock in me after I squirted on you.”

figure8: u did such a good job

“Yeah?” you purr. You want to keep playing along, but it’s almost hurting at this point.

“Rafe… please, can you just come over?” you plead.

figure8: u can wait. keep playing with your clit and talking to me

You groan in frustration. He’s always keeping you on your toes like this, controlling your orgasms.

“I want your cock, baby, please,” you moan. “I want you to fuck me. Please just come over already.”

His next message makes you sigh a breath of relief.

figure8: only because u took my load so good today

figure8: keep your computer on your bed

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You wonder what the hell he has planned.

When Rafe arrives, he kisses you hard like he did earlier today, and even though it feels so fucking nice, you’re worried about the effect it’s having on you.

You pull away just to give yourself a breath and take his hand, leading him to your room.

When Rafe takes his jeans off, he throws his wallet at the foot of your bed.

“On your stomach,” he orders. He moves your pillow to the centre of your bed. “And get on your computer.”

You obey, allowing him to guide you to rest your pelvis on the pillow, anticipating what he’ll do to you. You feel Rafe settle behind you, fully naked. He pulls up your shirt - really, his shirt - and his hand glides over the curve of your raised bare ass.

You feel a hard slap on your skin and you yelp.

“That’s for sending me that fucking video when I was with my friends,” he chastises. “Getting me fucking hard like that… Jesus.”

“Sorry, baby,” you laugh. You’re not sorry at all.

He spanks you once more, the pain burning. You feel him shuffle again, opening his wallet in front of you next to your open laptop.

“You’re gonna buy whatever you want with my credit card while I fuck you,” he says.

You’re floored.

“Rafe,” you say in disbelief. “I don’t… I don’t even know what I’d get.”

“Then, think,” he says. “Get yourself a new computer.”

You look at your laptop. It is a pretty old model.

“This is…” You truly don’t have the words. Is he doing this because of your tense conversation earlier today? Or is it just one of his fantasies?

You moan when you feel him press his tip against your cunt.

You’re staring at your screen, in awe of all of this. In awe of him.

“Come on, baby,” Rafe encourages. He slowly drags himself into you, his hips eventually hitting your lower back when he gives you all of him.

Fingers trembling, you pull a black credit card out of his wallet and open a browser on your laptop, eager to please him. This is so different than anything you’ve done with anyone before.

You follow his instructions and simply search ‘laptop’. A string of links come up.

“Don’t cheap out,” he tells you. “Get the most expensive one.” He’s fucking you so damn slowly, surely to keep both of you from cumming.

You’re full of his cock while you click the highest price tag you find. This cost is nothing to him.

It’s nearly impossible to type in his credit card information, your name, your address, while he sinks in and out of you.

When a window pops up asking if the credit card information should be saved, his big hand is suddenly on top of yours, selecting ‘Save.’

The order goes through.

“Good girl,” he says. He sits up again, his arms supporting him, trapping your hips. “What do you want next, huh? A purse? Shoes?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admit. “I only ever buy things I need.”

“What you need is to be spoiled,” he says sternly.

This is an entirely new sensation - having no reservations, no budget while shopping. You decide to look for purses next and a $1800 designer bag catches your eye. You hover over it.

“Get it,” he tells you. You add it to your cart and set up next-day shipping. It’s an unbelievable thrill. “Keep going.”

You’re bobbing on your elbows as he continues to fuck you. He pauses a few times, warming his cock in you.

Next, you decide to buy two pairs of shoes and clothes you only imagined you’d see in a closet in a house that you’re cleaning.

Rafe is groaning behind you and you feel his weight shift on you, his chest pressing against your back.

“You wanna buy some lingerie?” His hot breath tickles the back of your ear.

“That’s more for you than me, isn’t it?” you tease.

“So?” he asks. You giggle and visit the first lingerie website you can think of. It comes up on your screen with an array of beautiful girls modelling the merchandise.

“Don’t look at these girls,” you joke, but really, you’re jealous of the thought of him lusting after another woman.

“Why the fuck would I look at…” he breathes, not finishing his sentence as he thrusts into you.

You find a white, lacy set. You buy it and at this point, you can’t take it anymore. You need him to fuck you for real.

You shuffle under him, trying to get up.

“You’re not done,” he laughs.

“If you don’t let me cum, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you beg.

“One more thing,” he teases. He shifts to type with one hand, navigating to a sex toy website. “Whatever you want.”

You scroll through and a curved, blue vibrator intrigues you. You’ve always seen rigid, straight ones, but the thought of this one inside you is exciting.

“This one,” you say. You order it, then finally, shut your laptop in desperation. His hand trails down your spine once he pulls out. It makes you whine. You were hoping he’d start fucking you harder.

“Rafe,” you groan. You turn over on your back, looking up as he sits over you, the tip of his erect cock hitting hit stomach.

“You want my cum all over you, don’t you?” he taunts.

“You said you were gonna make me squirt again.”

“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re so desperate, oh my God. I will. Relax.”

He’s right. You have never been hungrier for him.

“You get so fucking turned on being my sugar baby, don’t you?” he asks.

You nod - if you didn’t have this kink already, you sure do now.

“I wanna see your tits covered in my cum,” he groans. You nod, pulling his shirt up off of you.

Rafe is sitting over you, his hand stroking up and down his length. The sight is so fucking intoxicating.

“You like watching me jerk off? This is better than imagining it, isn’t it?”

“Yes, baby,” you tell him.

You squeeze your tits together, your eyes locked on his dick. He starts to stroke faster, his hips bucking.

“Shit.” His voice is hoarse as he grunts, his eyes squeezing shut.

His cum spills out into ropes on your chest and he’s whimpering as he empties his balls onto you. He collapses, holding himself up over you.

When he opens his eyes again, you make sure he’s watching you as you run a finger up your breast, collecting some of his cum, and bring it to your mouth to taste him.

“You’re so hot,” he says, his chuckle one of disbelief. “I’m gonna taste you, too. Sit up there.” He points to your bed frame.

Your back is soon pressed against the frame, your legs spread for him. Rafe picks up the rose toy from your drawer and settles onto his front, his head between your thighs.

The way he’s starting to know his way around your room makes your cheeks warm.

He runs his thumb up your middle, licking his lips as he watches you.

“Goddamn, princess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking swollen,” he murmurs.

“It hurts,” you whine, your clit throbbing with need. You’ve been aching for him since this morning.

“I’ll make it better,” he promises. He leans forward, trailing his flattened tongue from your cunt up to your clit.

Nothing in the fucking world beats this feeling.

When Rafe places the toy against your clit, the suction triggers pleasure to roll through you. He leans down to push his tongue into your hole.

You gaze at him in awe. You take him in, his head bobbing between your legs, his broad shoulders flexing, his right leg hiked up and his left leg partly hanging off your small bed.

The knot in your stomach tightens and it feels like last night, like you’re gonna explode again.

“Rafe, don’t stop,” you beg. “Please don’t…” You impulsively squeeze his head between your thighs, and the grunt that he lets out onto your pussy tells you how hot he finds this, too.

“That’s it,” he says, muffled. “Cum on my tongue.”

You feel like you shatter from the inside, a choked sob erupting from you. He forces his head back, your thighs pushed away, so he can look at you. He takes the toy away, replacing it with his thumb.

The sight of your juices splashing onto his face, the depraved smile he’s wearing while you squirt on him in spurts, is something you know you’ll never forget. Every fucking second with him is like a dream.

You tilt your head back, chest heaving. You feel him pat your sensitive pussy with a satisfied laugh.

“My good fucking girl,” Rafe praises. You meet his eyes, his face shimmering with your cum.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “What you’re doing to me is… fuck…” You don’t have the words.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he says. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

“What?” you breathe your laugh.

“I brought you something.” Rafe sits up and you wonder what in the hell this man, who has given you absolutely everything but his heart, could possibly have for you this time.

{ read part nine here }

author’s note: credit and THANK YOU to this anon for suggesting this idea!!! YOU GENIUS. i owe u my life

#i cannot believe how long this chapter is 🫢#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #obx smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x you

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sgojoenthusiast · 8 months

Text

slow down for me.

✧.* choso x reader.

summary: i saw this tik tok about choso being able to stay hard forever and immediately started to write lmao. choso using his technique to stay hard so he can fuck you all night long<3

c/w: fem reader, kinda dom but mainly sub choso, riding, multiple rounds, overstimulation, choso’s blood manipulation, choking, hair pulling, alludes to m!recieving oral at the end, mating press position, choso whimpering *drools*, choso’s a menace tbh.

word count: 1.3k likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

“Shit, baby. Can you slow down for me?”

For the past two hours, Choso had been drilling into you and filling you up non-stop. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him, sucking him in like you needed him just as much as he needed you.

Choso couldn’t physically hold himself back. The minute he first entered you, he knew he’d have you in all sorts of positions before he stopped - even if it meant he was immensely overstimulated and in need of a pause. You didn’t think anything would stop him apart from the agreed upon safe word, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to wanting to stop either.

The minute he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim, he’d simply make himself hard again and continue to pound himself inside of you.

He was currently panting in your ear, and in contrast to the forceful and dominating thrusts, he couldn’t help back his whines from slipping past his lips. The noises falling into your ears made you tighten around him and bring your hands to tug on his hair in the exact way he likes it.

”C-can’t, feels, mmphh, so good-“

He had your legs over his shoulders as he pummeled into you, you could feel your mind slipping away as long as the ability to walk in the morning. Your legs were aching, yet there was nothing that could take your mind away from the mind blowing pleasure Choso was bringing you.

There was the familiar smell of sweat and sex in the air, the room was drowning in it. The air felt thick and you were consumed by the repetitive feeling of Choso hitting your sweet spot and the sound of skin slapping against skin - combined with his words and both of your moans.

You brought your hands around to caress his face, taking his cheeks in your hands and lifting his face so it was directly in front of yours.

His lips were pouted and his eyes were half-lidded with a hazed look swimming within them.

Pressing your lips to his, he let out a deep groan and as if spurred on just by your lips, his thrusts grew impossibly faster and harder. You let out a gasp, your hands reaching out for support as they grasped onto his back, nails scratching at the skin.

Your lips were parted and his head was resting against yours. Your breathing matched his as you took in every sound he made. Each whine went straight to your head and made it spin.

You could feel yourself reaching yet another orgasm as if he hadn’t pulled out enough to make you lose count already.

His hips were slowing down and losing their rhythm, indicating that he was also close to climaxing. You captured his lips in yours again, motivating him to keep going.

The two of you finished at the exact same time. Yet somehow, when you regained a stable state of mind, you could feel Choso twitching inside of you - still hard.

You were panting, still trying to regain feeling between your legs and yet he was already ready for another round. You looked at him with disbelief etched into your face yet he simply ignored it.

”One more time,” He kissed your jaw. “ Please just-“ Another kiss underneath your ear. “Just one more, I promise.” He sighed, kissing your cheek and then your neck and finally your lips.

You were exhausted, so close to your limit. But, when he begged you so nicely, how could you have said no? It would have been heartless to leave such a needy and desperate boy unsatisfied.

You pushed his chest away, causing him to flop beside you, before straddling his hips. His dick throbbed against your leg. It was hard and red, screaming to be touched yet also to be left alone.

Teasingly, you dragged your hands up his body causing Choso to close his eyes and sigh whilst also bucking his hands needily upwards.

You said his name in warning and he immediately stopped moving, yet that didn’t prevent his lips from forming a frown. It was cute though, and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing it. However, it was never just one kiss. Choso brought his hand up to tangle into your hair as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You kissed him back whilst also taking his dick into your hand and pressing it into the aching spot between your legs. Without putting it in, you rubbed the tip between your folds and smirked against his lips as he whimpered at the feeling.

The two of you moaned in sync when you slipped his dick inside of you once more.

Lazily, you started to grind up against him and move your hips up and down. The more you moved, the more you needed from him. As if sensing this, Choso snaked his hand to reach in the space between both of your bodies and rubbed his finger against your clit slowly.

You couldn’t help the way your hand reached up his body to grip his neck, and he couldn’t restrain the loud moan from falling between his swollen lips.

The two of you stayed like that, with you bouncing down on his cock with your hand wrapped tightly around his throat and his own hand playing with your pussy.

The feeling was messy, a combination of overwhelming pleasure and overstimulation. Your entire body was begging you to stop, yet your unreasonable and clouded mind saw no reason to.

Not when you peered down at Choso underneath you, who’s breathing was ragged yet there was a smile on his lips and a strange look in his almost-closed eyes.

You were so close to your limit, though, and were certain you’d have to stop soon.

However you knew that, even if you did stop, the next day all it would take would be for Choso to press his aching hard on against you for you to repeat this all over again.

You continued to ride him, your tits bouncing up and down and his other hand reaching to grab at one, pulling and twisting at your nipple.

You were so close. That same feeling from multiple times tonight arising once again where the knot in your stomach was stretching and ready to snap, and the combination of Choso’s hands and his dick hitting you over and over again was enough to send you over the edge.

Collapsing against him, Choso started to thrust upwards into you as you laid against him, taking it all whilst trying to calm down.

His voice was soft and quiet as he started to speak, telling you how good you were to him and how much he loves you.

He kissed the top of your head and thrusted relentlessly up into you, sputtering out quiet moans that you may not have heard had your ear not been next to his mouth.

Moments after your own orgasm, Choso’s followed. Once again, he shot his heavy load up inside of you whilst he whined and tears began forming in his eyes. His fucked you all throughout his orgasm, not stopping until he had given you everything he had.

When he finally stopped, you took a deep sigh of relief, prepared to get up and take a bath.

Yet you stopped in your tracks when you felt his dick, hard, pressing against you. You looked up at him, and smirked.

”Don’t w’nna get up. Can you clean me up with your mouth?”

Choso knew exactly how to get to you. He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it too well. Just like you knew that it would end up being the death of you, both his seemingly innocent looking eyes peering up at you, begging you for just one more, and that stupid technique of his.

You looked at the man who had finished inside of you many times that night with wide eyes, before shaking your head and laughing to yourself. Of course, you also moved down his body, making sure to kiss every inch, and began to suck at his tip still leaking cum, because you loved him and it was so hard to say no too.

Truthfully, you should have known better than to believe that was the end.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

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landograndprix · 8 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ viii

part seven - part nine

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ lando is here for the good, the bad and the ugly.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ they are in fact my babies your honor 🥺 said I was gonna go super sweet, fluffy cute which okay..it still is but with a lil' spice 😇

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Nice, France

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 534,767 others

y/nusername ☀days

tagged; landonorris, milliexoxo

view all 1,645 comments

milliexoxo how about you delete that picture? It's taken without my consent?!

↳ y/nusername just capturing the moments where you're the sweetest

milliexoxo I will quit my job

charliecharlie you should find a real job instead

milliexoxo girl why would i when I can stay with a rich, hot milf, her cute ass daughter and occasionally her sugar daddy?

bott_ass not millie calling lando a sugar daddy 😂

charliecharlie she didn't say it was lando 🙄

bott_ass bffr are you blind?

yourmumsuser pretty zoë 😍😍

manon_roux the happiest baby on earth 🥺

norrizz just casually laying in the same bed lmfao

↳ chilisainz jesus christ, so I'm not allowed to lay in the same bed as my guy friends anymore?

norrizz girl relax, I actually love them together as friends or more I didn't mean for it to sound so negative 😭

lando4norris c'mon lads, they are not just friends anymore and I hope they get treated well by each other after the shitty partners they had before

hamilt44n please adopt me :(

landonorris my little tiger 🐯

↳ milliexoxo I'm pretty sure that's a panther pattern my guy 🐆

y/nusername time to take you both back to the zoo because that's a leopard pattern

milliexoxo we've got miss know-it-all over here you guys!

norry4 millie, leave your mother alone 😭

carlandooo what is this little family dynamic and why do I want to be a part of it?

norrislandooo why are we all ignoring lando calling zoë MY little tiger????? 😭

charlos16 lmfao my girl saw the pictures of Charles and Noelle and decided to show life is fucking amazing without them, good for her!

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 501,002 others

y/nusername home² 🏡

view all 1,989 comments

chilisainz y'all remember that weak ass bouquet she got from Charles couple months back? 💀

↳ norry4 was thinking about that as well, my girl really had an upgrade in her men :')

yourmumsuser 😍❤️❤️

hannahh truly living the good life 😩

yukisan please let us know how how the books are if you've finished them!

yesrislando charles lurking in the likes

↳ charlesgirlies probably because that's his daughter as well 🙄

yesrislando does Charles know it's his daughter though? 🥺

milliexoxo come home, the kids (me) are missing you

↳ sharl16 damn, sugar daddy really took your sugar mommy away from you? 😭

landonorris pretty ladies 😍

↳ norrizz almost chocked on my tea oml this is everything to me 😭

norry4 I actually need them to be together!!!

➽────────────────────────❥

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew

#lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #lando norris #charles leclerc #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando x reader #charles x reader

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chaotic-birds · 3 months

Note

Hi :) I just wanted to say that I love your work and it's nice to see another Jason todd fan. Anyway, I wanted to ask if I can request a Jason todd x reader smut where the reader and Jason are in the middle of doing it and may be nightwing/roy accidentally walks in and they join ?

i’m happy to know you like my stories! ty! i love jason so much 😭 and thanks for your request! i’ve never written a threesome and it’s been a HOT minute since i’ve written smut, so i hope it turned out alright! also, i wrote A LOT more than i anticipated 😭 i’m sorry if it’s too much sldkjhvfs i couldn’t stop myself PAIRING jason x reader (f) x dick | WC 6.1k | G smut, fluff | TW reader has she/her pronouns, threesome, pwp, sub!reader, soft to rough (to soft) sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, breast play, unprotected sex (be safe!), gagging, handjobs, dirty talk, praising, cream/throatpie, multiple orgasms, spitroasting, pet names (princess, baby), aftercare talk, lazy sex, cum as lube

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

masterlist

Jason came home from patrol a few hours ago. With the renovations at your shared home, you both decided to reside at the manor for a few days.

Jason lays behind you, arms around you securely. His breath tickles the back of your head. You would think he’d be asleep, but the occasional glide of his fingers against your skin tells you he isn’t.

You turn in his embrace to face him.

His eyes peel open, blue irises boring into yours. A little moonlight seeps through the curtains, but it’s hard to see many details.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs.

“Can’t sleep,” you reply. You usually can fall asleep quickly in his arms, but tonight’s an exception. Maybe it’s because you’re in a new environment. Sure, you’ve slept over at the manor before, but you’ve never stayed for so long in a row.

He hums in understanding and caresses your cheek.

“Neither can I,” he says.

You stare at each other for a few seconds before he leans forward. You meet him halfway, lips pushing against each other in a sweet kiss. Jason pulls back for one second, then kisses you again. This time, he moves his mouth. It’s slow and sensual as he takes his time. He moves his hand to your side.

One of your hands presses against his bare chest while the other moves to the back of his neck. You pull him closer, and he smiles into the kiss, swiping his tongue along your lip that’s between his. You open your mouth and greet his tongue with yours.

Jason squeezes your body at the new contact. His tongue glides against yours for a few, and then his lips capture your tongue. He sucks on the muscle as he pulls away. You giggle, unable to contain your happiness.

“Cute,” he comments and dives in again, pushing you back on the bed and letting the covers fall lower. The cool air touches your skin, causing you to shiver. Jason rubs one hand up and down your arm while the other props himself up.

Jason lays half on and half off your body. Your hands tangle in his hair, making a mess of it—how you like it.

His hand travels down to your waist, massaging it as he continues to kiss you. The noise of your kisses fills the quiet room and fires your body gradually.

“I want to see you,” you say breathlessly once you pull away.

Jason nods and leans to one of the bedside tables. He turns the lamp on, adjusting the setting to a low lighting, then moves back. The light doesn’t reach every corner of the room, but it’s enough to see him better and not hurt your eyes.

Your gaze dances over his face, taking in the few scars that reside on his skin. His sharp features are a contrast to the softness in his eyes. A mix of black and white hair hangs over his forehead as he hovers over you.

You raise a hand to cup his face, thumb gently rubbing along his lower lip. Jason parts his mouth ever so slightly at your touch.

“Good?” he whispers.

“Perfect,” you reply and lean up to kiss him.

Jason grins against your lips, a small chuckle getting lost in your mouth. As the kiss continues, Jason’s hands explore your body. His hand rubs up and down your side, thumb brushing against the underside of your breast over your tank top. He does this a few times and then slips his palm under your top and squeezes your breast.

You hum contently in his mouth, hands tightening in his hair. Jason rubs his leg against the outer side of your thigh, kissing you, and massaging your chest. As the seconds tick by, you get more needy.

Jason, sensing this, moves his kisses down while shifting on top of you fully. You grab the bottom of your top and slide it off. Jason’s hand remains on your chest, watching how your body moves. Then, his other hand rests on your other breast.

Jason pushes your breasts up, marveling at how pretty they look. He leans down and kisses along the swells. Your eyes follow his movements. One hand moves back to his hair while the other covers one of his hands on your chest.

You suck in a breath when Jason nips at your skin. He chuckles against your body, biting one of your breasts and lingering a little longer.

You giggle as you arch your back and push your chest into his face more. He hums, releasing your skin and massaging the area—ridding the teeth marks he had left. Once gone, he gives your nipples a teasing twist, and then he drags his hands down your body. He leans down and captures your lips once more; one of his hands slips between your legs to feel you over your panties. He moans into the kiss when he feels the dampened material.

Jason slips a finger beneath the fabric to run up and down your slit, feeling just how wet you are.

“Fuck,” he breaths against your mouth.

His finger circles your entrance then moves up to circle your clit. Your hips jerk slightly at the sensation.

The kiss becomes sloppy as both your focuses move south.

Jason rubs your clit a few more times before moving down. He gradually slides a finger in your hole with ease from how wet you are.

You moan quietly at the feeling, legs spreading a little wider. Jason pulls away from the kiss and tucks his face in the crook of your neck. His finger still pumps into you. He moves slowly, which makes you buck your hips for more. Jason obliges, sliding in another finger and quickening his pace.

“Jay,” you mewl and tug his hair to lift his face. As soon as he does, he places his mouth on yours. The kiss is hot and fast, matching the pace of his hand.

“Need your mouth, Jay,” you whisper.

He nods, slides his fingers from you, then crawls down. You remove your underwear and inch up the bed so he has more space to lie. Once you’re both situated, he hooks his hands around your thighs and pulls you closer. He kisses your inner thighs, hair tickling your skin. You watch with rapt attention as he moves inward. Then, his hot tongue licks up your folds slowly.

Your head falls back as a pleased moan slips from your mouth.

Jason does the action again and when he reaches the top, he flicks his tongue repeatedly against your clit.

Gasping, you reach down to his hair.

Jason moves a hand to grope one of your breasts as his tongue glides up your slit again. He gathers your arousal and his spit in his mouth then lets it fall onto your pussy. The sight has you clenching.

Jason dives in again, zigzagging his tongue against your clit briefly before circling the muscle at your hole.

You moan when he pushes his tongue in. Jason moans with you against your skin, the hand on your breast squeezing.

His eyes close momentarily before he stares at you again. His tongue pushes in and out quickly for a few before lapping up your wetness. He alternates between licking and sucking. He feels and sounds like he’s a dehydrated man in the desert as he devours your sweet pussy.

Your legs try to squeeze around his head, but he uses his free hand to push down one of your thighs. Your whimpers get louder as you near your orgasm. Jason’s relentless as he continues to eat you out, occasionally pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

The knot in your tummy almost releases when a knock sounds at the door. However, before either of you can react, the door opens.

Jason snaps his gaze up, nose and chin glistening with your arousal. If it weren’t for being interrupted, you would’ve cummed at the sight.

You push your legs together and wrap an arm over your chest.

“Hey, you awak—”

Dick’s steps falter when he sees the two of you. Out of politeness, he looks away. Though that politeness dissipates quickly as a minute later, he’s looking again.

“What the fuck, Dick? Knock next time,” Jason hisses.

“I did knock,” Dick says weakly.

Your heart is beating quickly at having been caught. Not to mention, you’re naked in front of your boyfriend’s brother. The damp sheet caused by your dripping arousal and Jason’s spit beneath you is a constant reminder of what transpired seconds ago.

“Once!” Jason growls. “And what happened to waiting for a reply before walking in?”

Dick’s eyes glance at you, sweeping your form in under a second before averting to Jason. Unlike you, Jason still has his underwear on.

Jason, catching Dick’s gaze, grabs the sheet that had fallen and covers you haphazardly. You adjust it better.

“I didn’t think you’d actually be awake,” Dick says.

Jason narrows his eyes. “Well, I am, so go away and shut the damn door!”

Dick follows half of his order and shuts the door, staying inside.

“What?” Jason prompts.

Dick licks his lips. “I wanted to ask if you…”

“If I what?” Jason huffs, impatient.

It’s a little uncanny to see Dick so unsure. If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be you and Jason.

“I don’t remember,” Dick replies.

“Then leave.”

Dick remains standing in place, eyes on both of you. After an awkward standstill, he shuffles closer to the door, however, he still doesn’t leave.

Jason eyes him keenly.

Your gaze drifts from Dick to Jason. You can see the gears in his head turning, probably trying to uncover the reason for Dick’s hesitance. Then, Jason’s irritation morphs into a look of cocky delight.

Jason finally looks at you since Dick’s arrival.

You give him a confused expression.

He smirks and turns to Dick again.

“Or, if Yn agrees, you can stay and enjoy the show.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The show?

Dick has a mix of surprise and hope in his eyes.

“A-Are you serious?” you ask Jason.

Jason averts his gaze to you and nods, hand slipping under the sheet to rub your ankle soothingly.

“If you want, baby.”

The idea of having an audience brings forth excitement and shame. Excitement because it’s thrilling to have someone get turned on by you—it’s nice to feel wanted; shame because you shouldn’t like that thrill. It was wrong to expose yourself in that way to someone who wasn’t your partner. But Jason has agreed to it, which creates another question.

Jason is the jealous type. He doesn’t like when someone looks at you for too long, so why is he okay with Dick watching? Then you recall the look of mischief in his eyes earlier. He wants to show you off, and he has something Dick doesn’t. You wonder how long it’s been since Dick has slept with someone to want this so badly.

Plus, Jason trusts Dick and trusts you. This isn’t some stranger.

“Do you want to?” you still ask.

Jason gives you a reassuring smile. “I’m fine either way. This decision is yours.”

“But I want you to be comfortable too,” you pout.

“I’ll be comfortable,” he insists. “What do you say? Will you let Dickie stay?”

Your lips rub together, eyes flickering to Dick who still stands motionless. He watches you eagerly.

“Okay,” you say and look at Jason. “He can stay.”

Jason grins, glances back at Dick, and says, “What a lucky duck.”

Then he slides the sheet from your body and lays back down, pulling you close by the hips.

“But I’m luckier,” he mutters before circling his tongue on your clit again.

Your breath hitches, eyes moving from Jason to Dick.

Dick has moved closer, but still stays at a respectful distance, and watches Jason’s tongue play with your nub.

Jason glides his muscle along your folds again, moving a hand to rub your clit. You know he’s trying to get you aroused again, and it’s working. Your gaze falls back onto Jason.

He continues to use his tongue and hand, and eventually, you forget Dick’s in the room. Your focus is on Jason between your legs. But then Jason lifts his head and looks at Dick, then you.

“Can he put himself to use and touch you?” Jason asks you.

Your eyes widen slightly. You open to ask if he’s sure, but Jason speaks again.

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t okay with it. Would you be?”

You trust both of these men. They won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. With that in mind, you nod.

Jason nods for Dick to come closer.

“Rub her clit,” Jason instructs.

Dick looks at you for permission, and after a nod and a smile from you, he brings two fingers against your clit and starts rubbing. Your hips jerk at the action.

Jason watches for a few seconds before moving his face between your legs again.

Although Jason was circling your nub a minute ago, knowing it’s someone else doing that brings a new sensation flowing through you.

Dick eyes Jason before looking at you. He catches your gaze.

“Can I touch you more?” he asks.

Your eyes flicker to Jason, who is already looking at you.

You look at Dick and say yes.

Dick switches hands and uses his other to massage one of your breasts. You gasp when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger experimentally.

You can feel Jason smile against your pussy as he watches from below.

Dick repeats his action after seeing how you liked it. He tugs on the nipple, pulling it upward before letting it go and watching your breast jiggle. He bites the inside of his cheek, grabbing your breast again to squeeze it. You can feel his growing bulge against your side.

Jason slides two fingers in your entrance without warning and nudges Dick’s hand from your clit. He replaces it with his tongue, wiggling it against you. Moaning, your head falls on the pillow behind you. Your climax approaches quickly, having been interrupted earlier.

Dick lowers his face until his lips graze your nipple. You let out a shuddered breath, which has Dick wrapping his lips around it. His other hand moves to massage your other breast.

He sucks and tugs your nipple up with his mouth. When it slips from his lips, he immediately starts flicking his tongue against it. You whine and tangle a hand in his hair.

“Can I kiss you?” Dick whispers, eyes moving from your breasts to your lips.

“No,” Jason answers for you, fingers still pumping inside your hole. “No kissing.”

Dick nods, not offended by his rule. He gives you a comforting smile to show he’s not bothered. You’re grateful for his understanding. While you aren’t against the rule, you like knowing Jason has his limits. You’re still his completely.

Jason moves back down. It’s not long before your legs are shaking around his head and one hand is gripping his hair while the other is gripping Dick’s hand on your breast.

Both men moan lowly at you cumming, watching your body squirm.

When Jason pulls away, he’s covered in your juices.

“Can I taste you?” Dick wonders.

Jason looks at you to say it’s your choice. You nod.

Jason moves to your slide while Dick lays between your legs. Jason leans down and kisses you. He tastes and smells like you.

Dick’s tongue grazes your folds tentatively. When you don’t tell him to stop, he flattens his tongue and licks up the remnants of your juices and wetness.

You mewl into Jason’s mouth at Dick’s actions.

Jason pulls away to glance at his brother and then at you again.

“Such a good princess, letting him taste you like the starved man he is,” Jason compliments and moves a few strands of hair from your face. “Bet it’s been a while, hm?”

As if confirming, Dick hums and pushes his face deeper. You inhale sharply, hand flying down to grab his locks. You writhe from overstimulation.

“God, you taste amazing,” Dick nearly growls into your pussy.

Jason smirks and angles your face toward him. He pulls you in for another kiss, tongue moving against yours.

Dick swiftly glides his tongue all around your pussy, sucking and licking every inch of it. He prods the tip of his tongue at your hole, testing you. Again, when he gets no complaints, he shoves his tongue deeper and circles your clit with a free hand.

You pull away from Jason with a loud moan.

“Fuck,” you pant, feeling another orgasm in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna’ cum again, baby?” Jason asks, already knowing the answer. You nod, unable to speak as Dick increases his speed.

Jason rubs your head soothingly while he watches Dick eats your pussy with fervor. He then lays next to you sideways and kisses your neck. Your head tilts to give him better access.

Dick pulls another orgasm from you minutes later, making your body shake.

“Shit,” Dick curses after you start coming down from your high. He crawls from you, chin shining under the low lighting. He swipes a tongue along his lower lip as if addicted to your taste.

Jason pushes himself off the bed and begins to strip off his underwear. Your mouth waters when you see his hard cock.

“I know you still have another one in you,” he grins and climbs back on the bed. “Rotate, princess.”

He uses his hand to motion so you understand.

You flip your body so your head is now where your feet were.

“Move up,” Jason adds. He slowly follows you as your head inches closer to the edge. You stop when you’re at the end of the mattress.

You lean up on your elbows to look at him.

Jason shifts his eyes to Dick and raises his brows.

“You wanna join or watch?” Jason inquires.

Dick doesn’t need to be asked twice and undresses himself. He moves to stand behind your head, and it’s then you realize what’s about to happen. Your heart rate picks up in anxiousness, your walls clenching in anticipation.

“Just bite his dick if you want him to stop,” Jason jests and rubs your calves.

“Hey!” Dick huffs.

You smile, glad for the joke. You’re feeling more comfortable, but you still sense Dick’s hesitance. You’re unsure if it’s because he’s second-guessing this or if he’s nervous he might hurt you.

“Kidding,” Jason says. “If it gets too much, tap the bed twice.”

You nod.

Jason grins, bends over, and kisses you sweetly. He pulls away after a few seconds and leans back on his haunches.

“Lay back down and relax,” Jason says.

You do as he says. Your gaze meets Dick’s hardened cock hovering above your face.

“Touch him,” you hear Jason instruct.

You carefully reach up and take hold of Dick’s cock. He sucks in a breath.

You start rubbing your hand, but you need… Dick suddenly spits down, coating your fingers with his saliva. You spread it along his cock, then rub him again. Your hand glides smoother.

Jason’s hands travel up your legs to massage your sides, looking at your hands move. After a moment, he glides the tip of his dick along your wet folds a few times before rubbing his tip back and forth rapidly against your clit. Your legs try to close, but Jason halts them. You moan and whimper at the sensation.

Meanwhile, Dick starts thrusting shallowly in your hands. Precum seeps from his tip. With your thumb, you swipe it and use it to aid in your stroking.

Dick’s hips stutter at your action, a curse falling out of his mouth.

“Give him what he wants, baby,” Jason says, pausing his movements.

You lean up and kiss the underside of Dick’s tip. You trail the kisses downward until you reach the base, and then your tongue darts out to lick his balls lightly.

Dick’s breath quivers above you. He reaches down to your sides and gently tugs you closer to him so your head hangs off the edge of the mattress. You feel Jason shift closer; his hands start to rub your inner thighs.

With your head at a better angle, Dick adjusts his cock and nudges his tip against your mouth. Your lips part at his silent request, taking his head in your mouth.

You suck and swirl your tongue around his tip. One of your hands moves to his thigh. You pull him closer and he follows, dick pushing deeper in your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Dick gasps.

As if unable to stop himself, he starts moving his hips. Your other hand wraps around the part that’s not in your mouth, pumping slowly as you hollow your cheeks around his cock.

Jason squeezes your thighs and spits, smearing it over your entrance. Your mind is going crazy trying to split your focus.

Dick continues to move his hips carefully while Jason coats his tip with your arousal and his spit. Then, he gradually sinks inside. You moan around Dick’s cock, causing him to groan at the vibration.

Jason mutters a curse as your warm walls engulf his thick cock. He pulls out then pushes in again.

Both men move slowly as if not to hurt you. Your body shifts gently between them as they alternate thrusts. Dick pulls out a few times so you can breathe, but he never stays away for long. Jason progressively pumps his cock in your pussy until he bottoms out.

Your legs squeeze around Jason at the feeling.

“Doing so good, baby,” Jason coos. He stills for a moment before sliding almost all the way out, then sliding back in fully.

When Dick pushes farther and hits the back of your throat, you gag. Your hands grab his thighs, but you don’t push him away. Taking that as a green light, Dick continues his movements. The lewd squelching from Jason fucking your pussy combined with your small gags from Dick’s cock in your mouth has you needing more.

Your hips buck against Jason quickly, trying to get him to increase his speed. Jason takes the hint and gradually thrusts faster.

Jason’s quick pace pushes you against Dick harder, making you take Dick’s cock deeper. You sputter, but the feeling has a grip on Dick and instead of pulling away, he shifts forward until your lips are at his base.

You push against Dick’s thighs as a reflex, but your arms get pulled away. Jason pauses his movements.

“Breathe, princess. Show Dick how well you can take his cock,” Jason says gently.

You force yourself to calm down, relax, and breathe through your nose.

“That’s it,” Jason says and starts rolling his hips again.

“Such a good girl you got,” Dick murmurs. His hand comes down to graze your throat.

“Hm, isn’t she?” Jason hums with pride.

Dick slides out a bit then back in. There’s no doubt he’s watching the way his cock is moving in your throat.

He does this a few more times and then pulls out. He cradles your head as you cough and sit up slightly.

Jason smiles at you, slowing down, as Dick moves a piece of hair from your face.

“You okay?” Dick asks.

You glance up. He’s breathing a little heavier.

You nod and lie down again. You reach out for his thighs, pulling him toward you and taking his cock in your mouth again.

“Look at you,” Dick marvels, sliding his cock deep. “So eager for more.”

You hum around Dick and bob your head as best as you can, gagging every now and then.

Seeing you want more has Jason accelerating his speed once more. His skin slaps against yours, the sound filling the room.

You moan and let Jason’s thrusts push you against Dick.

Jason lifts your hips, making you arch your back and leaning your head back more.

“Shit, you look so pretty like this,” Jason grunts.

Your breasts bounce as both men push and pull from opposite ends. You feel so satisfied with both holes filled. It’s a new sensation you welcome with open arms.

Dick reaches down and squeezes your breasts a little roughly.

“Such a pretty little thing for us,” Dick says and pinches your nipples. He twists and lifts them slightly, letting the back-and-forth movement of your body aid in the sensation of your nipples being tugged in different directions.

You whine loudly at the feeling while your back arches more. There’s a mix of pain and pleasure from the action.

Dick chuckles above you; he releases your semi-sore nipples and soothes them with a rub.

“Feel good?” Dick asks with a faint smirk on his lips, pulling out of your mouth so you can respond.

“Y-Yes,” you reply, voice already a little hoarse.

Jason pulls out and suddenly flips you over. He moves back to give Dick space on the bed.

As Dick gets resituated, Jason pulls you against him. He turns your face and kisses you roughly. You gasp in his mouth, his action unexpected. You can tell he’s getting worked up with how fast he’s moving now.

“Want him to watch for a bit, yeah?” he says, but it’s not really a question.

Jason nudges your knees wider, positions his dick at your drenched hole, then thrusts up.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, hands coming up to grip his forearm that’s across your chest.

Jason fucks up into you hard. He’s no longer being careful since he doesn’t have to worry about you choking on Dick’s cock too much. In the back of your mind, you sense he’s doing this so Dick knows he’s not the only one who can make you feel good.

“S-Shit, Jay!” you cry, pushing your ass against him and taking what he’s giving you. His thick cock feels so good stretching your pussy.

“Look at him,” Jason says in your ear.

Although your eyes have been open, you weren’t registering what you were seeing. Your sight refocuses.

Dick’s on his haunches with a hand wrapped around his long cock. His eyes shift from your bouncing breasts to your face with your open mouth, to where Jason is pounding into you. It seems he doesn’t know where he wants to look.

“She feels so good around me,” Jason moans. “So fucking tight.”

Dick’s grip tightens around his cock, eyes shifting lower to watch Jason fuck you. It’s almost as if he’s imagining your walls squeezing around him, thinking just how tight you really are. You have a quick thought of what it might feel like to have both of them in between your legs.

“Jay,” your voice trembles, feeling your approaching orgasm.

Jason slows and pushes you down. Your face lands inches away from Dick’s cock. The aforementioned man wastes no time to move forward and guide his dick in your mouth again. His hands tangle in your hair, moving your head up and down at his will.

“Fuck, use your tongue just like that, Yn,” Dick pants when you wiggle the muscle against his shaft.

Jason picks up his pace, hands gripping your ass. Skin slapping, moans, and small gags fill your ears. The combination is filthy, but only arouses you more.

Dick stills your head but starts thrusting upwards instead. He moves with speed, and you have to force yourself to relax as he pushes down your throat repeatedly. His breathing gets heavier.

“Can I cum in your mouth?” Dick speaks fast through pants.

You hum a yes around his cock and keep your head down so he can use your throat.

Dick groans at your acceptance and increases his tempo. Your hand's fist into the sheets below, eyes filling with tears at Dick’s brutal pace.

Jason slows his movements as Dick fucks you roughly. His hands move to your hips and rub encouraging circles.

“Keep taking his cock, princess. You’re doing so well,” Jason says.

With Jason’s words, you push your face down lower until you’re taking Dick’s cock whole.

“Fuck yes, Yn. Feels so damn good. Just like that. Stay just like that,” Dick rambles as he nears his climax. He thrusts a few more times and then shoves his cock down your throat. You feel him twitch as he empties his load in your mouth, head thrown back.

Dick stays deep in your throat for a few long seconds before he carefully glides out. He sits back on the bed, chest still heaving from his high. You gasp for breath while looking up at him. His eyes drop to you, a smile forming on his lips. He reaches down to wipe the few tears off your cheeks.

“T-Thank you,” he murmurs.

You giggle and nod, then you feel Jason slam into you from behind. You jerk forward, eyes widening as you stare at Dick.

“My turn, baby. You gonna’ let me fill this pussy?” Jason asks and gives you another single thrust.

You look back and nod again, a needy whine emitting from your throat. “Need all of you.”

Jason smiles and starts gliding in and out.

You rest your cheek against the bed as he picks up his pace. Meanwhile, Dick’s hand runs through your hair smoothly.

Jason snaps his hips into yours. He’s quick to slide in but takes his time sliding out. The mix of speed and force has your mind clouding.

Your walls clench around Jason’s cock, loving the way he feels so big in your tight cunt. You can never get enough of this feeling. Each glide has your release building.

Jason’s hips rock into yours faster, and you have to force your legs to stay up so you don’t fall. However, Jason’s firm grip on your hips won’t let you fall anyways. You can tell he’s close by his rapid breaths and powerful thrusts.

“Fucking hell, baby, you,” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

You squeeze around him again, hands clutching the bed sheets harder at his rough pace. Your body jolts up and down the mattress because of him. Though thanks to Dick’s hand against your head, you don’t slide too far.

“Need to see you,” Jason huffs and pulls out. He swiftly flips you, pushes your legs near your chest, then shoves his cock back in your pussy.

You cry at the deep angle, head pushing back as Jason keeps the speed he was at.

Jason stares down as he breathes through his mouth. His hair sticks to his forehead, brows burrowed.

“So good,” you mumble in a daze, thoughts hazy. “’eep going… please.”

Jason nods. He pushes into you roughly a couple more times before he bottoms out, leaning over you more and forcing your hips to raise. A sound between a gasp and a yelp escapes your mouth. He’s so deep as he shoots his cum in your pussy, filling you.

Jason pants laboriously as he rides out his climax. He leans down and kisses you lazily. You smile into the kiss, hands coming up to the sides of his head. The kiss lasts a few more seconds, and then Jason slides out.

Before your hips fall, Jason shifts you so your back is against his chest. He hooks your legs over his, pulling them open and exposing your used cunt to Dick.

He moves one hand to one of your breasts and the other down to rub your clit. You gasp at the feeling and squeeze your legs against Jason’s.

Dick watches as Jason’s cum seeps from your spent hole. It begins to pool under you.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty filled with my cum?” Jason questions with a smirk.

Dick flickers his gaze to Jason, then down again. He seems to want to say something but bites it back. Instead, he reaches out to swirl his fingers in the mess between your legs. He parts your folds with his fingers, getting a better look at you pushing Jason’s cum out.

Dick scoops some of it on two fingers before plunging his digits into your entrance. You gasp, hips bucking. His lips twitch in a smile at your reaction, pumping his fingers faster. He soon adds a third.

Jason’s hands continue to massage your breast and circle your clit. With both men’s hands on you, your body begins to squirm.

Dick’s hand move fast, alternating between thrusting and jerking up and down.

Jason’s hand gets a little rougher as he pinches, rolls, and tugs on your nipple. His other hand between your legs moves faster to match Dick’s pace.

You whine and try to close your legs, but Jason keeps them firmly apart.

“I’m about—” you try to warn, but the knot snaps, cumming over both men’s hands. Your hips stutter and your muscles contract against Jason. Your eyes roll back as your chest heaves.

Dick and Jason continue their movements, steadily coming to a stop.

You lay still against Jason while you catch your breath. He kisses your head and carefully lays you back onto the pillows. You already feel sore in your throat and between your legs, but you wouldn’t trade this feeling. You feel exhausted, but so happy.

You watch with tired eyes as Dick climbs off the mattress. He gets dressed and then comes to the side of the bed. He tilts your face toward his.

“Thank you. I had a fun time,” he says sweetly.

You smile. “Thank you, and me too.”

Dick grins, tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, then makes his way to the door. You watch as Jason and Dick exchange a respectful nod before Dick leaves.

Jason waits a minute before asking softly, “You okay?”

“More than okay,” you mumble.

“You’re not getting too attached to Dick now, are you?” he teases, but you know there’s a sliver of worry in his chest.

You shake your head, leaning up. “Never, Jay. I only ever want you.”

“You’re so good to me,” he sighs and kisses you fiercely. You can tell he’s putting all the thoughts he can’t form with words in the kiss. It makes your heart melt. If anything, you feel closer to Jason.

“How are you feeling?” you ask after the kiss.

Jason grazes his fingertips along your skin. “I’m good.”

“Just good?” you pry.

“As long as you’re not falling for Dick, I’m good.”

You raise a hand to his face. “You’ll forever be the only one who has my heart, Jason Todd. And I’m grateful you trust me, and Dick, to have experienced tonight. Did you not have fun?”

“I did,” he pauses as if debating his next thought. “Thought it was kinda hot seeing you take two cocks at once.”

Your body heats at remembering the feeling. You trail your hand from his face to his chest.

“Kinda?” you wonder.

Jason smiles and grabs your hand. He kisses your knuckles.

“Okay, it was really fucking hot,” he admits.

You giggle and hide your face in his chest. He laughs, wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“You getting shy on me now, princess?” he asks.

You don’t reply and nuzzle your head deeper. One of your legs drapes over his body, pressing yourself against him as if trying to disappear. The simple motion brushes your pussy against his dick and sends a shiver down your spine.

Jason must feel the same thing because he releases a shaky sigh.

You’re both quiet as you think of what to do. Your body is spent, and your energy is low. However, the thought of Jason filling you up has another wave of lust circulating through you.

“I want to feel you again,” you murmur.

Jason lifts your face and connects your lips. It’s a languid kiss that still makes your heart race even after all these years.

He reaches down, covers his shaft with his cum from earlier, then aligns his cock with your hole and eases inside again.

Jason swallows the noise you make, continuing the kiss. He rocks his hips in a leisurely rhythm.

You hold onto him tightly. You savor the taste of his tongue and the feeling of him inside you. Jason’s love for you is oozing from his pores, and you bask in it as he holds you equally as tight.

You hope in your next life that you and Jason will find your way to each other again for you can’t ever imagine being with anyone else.

©️CHAOTIC-BIRDS // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

608 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

First off I LOVE your writing, I’m so happy you’re taking requests again so, may I please request something with Ghost? Like the reader is part of the 141 and Ghost has a soft spot for her and is very protective of her and both having feelings for each other but not saying anything bc both think the other one deserves better or just something like that🥹😮‍💨💖🙏🏻 feel free to keep practicing smut for this one!👀✨

You’re awesome 🥰💞

Blood Was Its Avatar

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Getting close to you was never his plan, but when he can't stop his self-protective instincts from pushing you away, will he be able to repair your strange friendship? Or will his body have to speak for him? (18+)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, wounds, stitches, death, smut, p in v, throat f-ing, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, implied pain kink, hair pulling, hate sex? but not really?, semi-clothed sex, vulgar language, fluff at the end, etc. just pure filth.

A/N: This is sub-par because I was up until 4 in the morning today and didn't have the energy to edit in-depth lmfao, but enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

All of Ghost’s problems started and ended with you. He was impressed with that fact, actually.

They call you ‘Masque’ on account of the mission from years back, ‘07 Ghost recalls easily. When you’d been pinned down and surrounded, the dead bodies of your unit all around your feet. You’d chosen to act while the others had been yelling orders over the radio—rooting around the pooling blood on the ground and slathering your face with it; your body.

You pretended to be dead.

Quick thinking, Ghost had told you with a glint in his eye when you’d gotten back, those whites of your eyes ten times more noticeable. Like the moon hanging around a crimson-drowned sky.

You’d cursed him out and said of course it was, quoting some poem from Edgar Allen Poe as a joke.

“Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood.” The Masque of the Red Death. Your claim to survival apparently, as you had just read it a day before.

Ghost said you were bloody fucking crazy and found his eyes darkly watching the way you smirked at him. How the dried blood on your lips would splinter at your loud chuckle as you both entered the C17.

As he knew—all of his problems started and ended with you. Today was no different.

“Damn! Lookin’ good today Ghost, are those new gloves I spy?” You were always so…bubbly.

“Masque,” the masked-man greats blandly, not even sparing you a look as you enter the meeting room. The screen on the far wall was hooked up to Price’s computer—broadcasting its news out into the dim lighting with images of mayhem and a loop of a video containing the bombing of an embassy building in the Netherlands.

Profile pictures stain the screen of wanted subjects; captured or killed in the crossfire made no difference here, anyone could see it.

You drop down into the seat beside his own with a huff, body shed of your usual black gear, and wearing casual fatigues instead—your tags jump on your chest and Ghost sees them glint in the light.

Your face shifts into a smile, prodding with a bump of your elbow. The Lieutenant turns and glares dryly while you carry on, “I asked if you got new gloves; they’re nice.”

“Needed ‘em.” Ghost drawls, seeing no way out of this as he glances around at the multitude of other free seats. No one else was here yet, and Price had needed to step out for a moment to grab another report from his office one floor up.

A small grunt echoes from his throat before his eyes dart back to yours. Shifting in his seat, his lax posture tenses before loosening.

Raising a brow at Ghost, you stifle a laugh.

“That’s it?” He blinks at you slowly, those bright blues trapping you as they shine out from his skeletal visage; his great body hidden under layers of Kevlar and thick canvas cloth. Like some weird and deadly present. You tease him, “No attempt at a conversation, Ghosty? That hurts.”

You sarcastically put a hand to your chest.

“Then suffer.” Ghost states like he’s reading the newspaper, stretching out one of his wrists by rolling it until it cracks the joints. Where was everyone else? “I’m not fuckin’ talking about bloody gloves, Masque.”

“It’s called a conversation starter!” Under the mask, he raises a dull eyebrow. You glower at him, but the smirk on your lips shows how much you enjoy this.

“For who? Could have jus’ stayed quiet, then.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes and indulge him—pointedly going silent. Almost immediately an awkward nothingness covers the room with its metaphorical blanket and Ghost’s muscles slowly go stiff as he crosses his arms slowly over his chest. You bite your lip and stamp down a snort.

A minute spreads like molasses. Two. Three. Five.

“Alright,” Ghost growls, breaking as you pick at your cuticles, humming horribly off-tune to a point where the Lieutenant’s ears were ringing and annoyance faired. “Fucking hell stop it, just say something already to shut up that noise. Sounds like my damn brakes squealin’.”

You stop and laugh loudly, elbowing him again as he jerks away with a low grunt. Blue flashes, and his heart pounds.

“Jeez, Lieutenant, is my humming that bad for you?” The air rolls with tension.

“More effective than torture.” Ghost utters, his Manchester drawl violent and thick as it coats your ears. You take no offense—you’d been doing it on purpose, anyways; always the one to exploit cracks in the concrete. You'd found out a lot through your studies of the man beside you. Mostly, all of the small tics and unique qualities that made Ghost such a strange character.

On the battlefield, the large man was resilient and patient. He could wait in one spot for days if he had to, sitting for a perfect shot. Nothing could break the line of purpose and authority he had over the units he was placed in or his fighting spirit. Gunbattles, torture, you name it he’d survived it.

But he disliked anything below scalding hot tea, detested his objects and packs being messed with…and clenched his hidden jaw at small, repetitive, noises.

Low, horrible, humming, tapping fingers, tongues clicking over and over. You had no idea why, but the sight of making this experienced and handsome man glare at you with annoyance made your face heat up.

You chuckle in the meeting room, eyes crinkling up at him before you reach for one of the pens and notepads on the table. Clicking the bottom, you shrug and start to scribble nothing into the side margins as blue ink bleeds like foreign blood.

“What’s Price got for us today, then?” Your voice echoes, “We shipping out with the others or going Black again?”

The Captain usually paired the two of you up for Black Ops for a reason—Ghost the strategic mastermind to your reckless bloodlust. Push and pull.

Missions were rarely a failure.

Ghost sighs, finally getting the sensation of control back into him. “Black,” he begins, “least for us. Old Man’s sending Garrick and Johnny out in hopes of drawin’ a few bastards out first. Netherlands. We slip in the back—off the books, ‘course.”

He watches you from the side of his eye, gaze following your pen as you sketch out a small stick figure with a skull for a face. Ghost stifles a huff as he scratches at the side of his face.

“Well, of course,” you slyly tease, glancing at him before looking back to your pad. “Are we getting any soldiers?”

“None. Just us.”

“Ooo,” Ghost watches your lips curl and feels his body slowly still. “Sounds like fun.”

“It sounds like I’m going to have to babysit again,” you laugh again and dark blue seems to spark with some strange emotion. Ghost clears his throat and takes down a breath.

“Oh, please,” you chuckle, “I’ve saved your hide a few times before, Ghosty, be nice to me.”

“Nice isn’t in the job description, Masque.”

“Well, it isn’t for you, grumpy. I think Johnny and Gaz are lovely.” Your nose tilts up teasingly as Ghost grumbles like a cat. “But that’s alright, I like you anyways.” Winking, you go back to your pointless scribbling as footsteps echo from the hallway.

Ghost stares, his hands on the armrests slowly clenching into fists as he studies your expression. His eyes slid over scars and blemishes he’d already looked at a million times over, seeing in his mind’s eye the stains of blood and that every present smile—the burn of your presence beside him like a brand in his stomach. You never seemed to let him get too far away from you on Ops, but it wasn’t some form of obsession. It was worry; he’d seen it.

You didn’t like it when you couldn’t see his back ahead of yours. Ghost guessed it had to do with your lost unit. He never pressed it.

In fact, he’d noticed himself not eager to see you off himself. Had spent many a night in the onsite gym after missions because of it, where he’d given you the cold shoulder after. He didn’t like that feeling. That hesitation.

Ghost knew only to trust people as much as he had to…so why did he like when you said nice things to him? His jaw clenches, shoulders rolling to dispel tension as he rips his eyes away from your body as if you were fire incarnate. Your head perks up at the sound of talking voices getting closer to the meeting room.��

Soap and Gaz enter a few moments later and Price shuffles in behind them. You smile warmly and greet them, shifting the notepad closer to yourself nonchalantly.

Ghost grunts and stays stationary, straightening up when he realizes he's slightly leaned toward you during your conversation. His new gloves pull taunt over his knuckles and he suddenly wants to rip them off.

—

You begin to wonder when you’ll be free from blood coating your fingers but know deep down you never will be. At least, not if this was how you’d be getting covered in it.

Sitting inside the hotel bedroom, you slowly extract a blood-coated bullet from Ghost's large thigh, grimacing when he grunts from over you. You’re in between his legs, kneeling, as the metal finally breaks free from the skin barrier—the entry wound is small but nonetheless dangerous. His pants were cut from thigh to knee, a long spit that showed pale, scarred skin.

Keeping a tight grip on the forceps, you hum under your breath in satisfaction.

“No bullet fragments—lucky you.”

Ghost forces out, “Yeah, feelin’ proper lucky.” You chuckle, moving back and dropping the bullet to a food plate you’d put on the floor. Shuffling, you take up the rag placed over your upper arm and bring it back up. Patting the gushing wound, you frown and think back on the events that got you here as the Lieutenant shifts and bites his tongue.

The intensity in his blue eyes burns into you, lungs deeply inhaling with a silent breath. Your fingers tingle, but you diligently press the fabric to the wound and try to ignore the heat from Ghost’s flesh or how his legs flinch with every trail of your nails. His muscles are pure iron around you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the position you’re in.

Swallowing stiffly, you sigh and notice him slightly shiver when your breath caresses his upper leg. You stop immediately, lips going tight.

It had been fifteen minutes earlier when Soap and Gaz had set up in a far more open and less secluded hotel three blocks away—directly across from the base location for your gaggle of targets. As planned, you and Ghost would be off the books and go in when they were too distracted by the Sergeants’ in plain sight.

Fire was supposed to be the cover story. Go in, take care of business, and set the place alight after the area was clear of civilians. But no one was counting on the targets being surrounded by three more friends.

Of course, guns lead to bullets and bullets to flesh. You can still hear the ringing in your head when Ghost had jerked you to the slide and shoved you behind the far wall—skull snapping back to look in horror as his leg exploded with gore.

Fucking bastard had been distracted by you and hadn’t had time to dodge. That wasn’t Ghost, but then again, Ghosty wasn’t quite the same, was he? Least, not to you.

“You’re a fool, you know that?” You huff, something swirling in your chest as your gloves peel the layer of cut pants farther down to see better. “You should have looked after yourself.”

“And what?” Ghost grumbles, letting you do what you wanted to him. “Let you get fuckin’ shot, Masque—you have a bloody death wish?” His last word comes off with a growl as you press tighter into his thigh.

His hand instantaneously snaps out to grasp the back of your hair tightly with an instinctual low groan. Naturally, a small whine exits your lips in retaliation.

You both freeze and the room jumps up to a hundred degrees; your lower body flips as your skin burns a million degrees. Fingers still, you feel your breath hitch when his calloused fingers scrape your scalp, your hair in his expansive palm. It was a pure reaction you knew, and when you’d asked him to let you help out with this problem you had thought this might happen—he’s a soldier after all, just like you.

But he hadn’t denied you. If anything, since six missions back, you were the only person who he wanted to work on him. He’d never said why.

You look up at him from the side, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. Ghost’s heart skips beats before he clears his throat, snapping his hand back immediately and slamming it to the mattress. A second of strained silence settles where you both try to forget what the fuck just happened.

“Keep bloody going then,” He says, deep and grating to a point where you shove down a shiver. Your head feels light off of his scent, and you have to ask yourself why you’re feeling so feverish all of a sudden.

You bite your lip and nod, hand moving away to grab at the sanitized needle and thread with your forceps—dropping the rag back onto your forearm to let it hang. For once in your life you’re left mute by his actions.

Mute to the fact that you’d liked them.

Your face burns like a hidden fire; epidermis alight with the strength to rival the flames the two of you had started fifteen minutes ago. Lungs stutter and hands inside the gloves go clammy. It’s only after you were halfway done with the stitches that you mutter words.

“Shouldn’t have taken that bullet, Ghost.” He had been stone still the entire time, hands clenched beside him and his thighs like rocks. Feet firmly planted. It was like he was barely breathing, too.

Ghost blankly stares, staying quiet as you continue.

“You were distracted. That never happens.” His form was almost entirely shadowing you; great spanning shoulders from above tight like a looming statue. You dig the needle deeper with a push of the forceps, threading through yielding skin with quick punctures. He doesn’t even flinch.

Ever since ‘07, there was an obvious aversion to partners stemming from you. You distanced yourself from forming close bonds with those who you hadn’t already known. In many ways, Ghost and the others of One-Four-One were the closest you could get to people now.

Ghost, you admit, was far closer than all the others combined.

But this sentiment was known—both the aversion and the care you held. The Lieutenant wasn’t good with words, but he knew how to read you better than anyone; the way you carried yourself. He knew you didn’t like it when he got hurt in front of you.

Ghost had to ask why he even bothered to shove you out of the way, regardless. You would have been fine. So why had his eyes gone wide and his iris flared with a dead glow when he’d seen the gun swivel in your direction? The man grunts at a deep dig from your sutures but you continue to mutter to yourself as he glares at the far wall, venom-like.

His sin was that he had grown to care about you. His burden and his curse.

This couldn’t continue.

Ghost looks down at you with a sheen of distanced nonchalant-ness and when you lent back with a sigh of your lips, his body moved. You blink in surprise as you feel his muscles bunch and before you know it you’re being grabbed harshly by the arms and lightly shoved to the side.

“Ghost!” You snap, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stands to his feet—blood training down his thigh and kneecap before disappearing back under the stained cargos. “What the fuck?! I’m not done with it.”

Attempting to stomp closer, he swivels his head to you as his spine goes formal. Your feet stall from under you and your veins pump faster, forceps and slick gloves freezing mid-air.

You blink. He’d only ever looked at you like that when you’d first met.

Blue is a silent sheen of ice and cold death; black sockets behind his mask are more like voids holding chilled sapphires.

Why was he looking at you like he didn’t know you? Once more you say, confused and suddenly small, “Ghost?”

“Enough.” His voice was monotone and barky, the tone final. Your fingers tense at the sound. What…what was this? “You need to get your head back on, Masque. I can’t watch over you like a bloody Private every time you get stiff-legged, copy?”

Your jaw slackens. Inside, your heart smashes itself into your ribs in a violent pang. There’s a moment of complete and utter silence in which Ghost remains standing with concrete tied to his feet. He sees the flash of confused hurt in your eyes, the way your muscles jump for a moment.

A suffocating wave of regret strikes him, but he felt like he had to do this—keep up boundaries. Even if his throat was closing in an attempt to make him shut up.

Ghost’s accent makes him sound harsh and unforgiving. “Price’ll need us back in fifteen. Get your shit together.”

He bends down and snatches bandages with a quick hand, beelining to the bathroom and closing the door with a firm hand. Blankly, you stare at the barrier as the wall rattles; face burning—unable to speak beyond a small sound in the back of your mouth.

The two of you stay separated for the remainder of the time, not speaking, and not moving from your respective areas.

When Ghost finally leaves ten minutes after he’d pushed back the self-loathing and guilt, freshly bandaged, he finds your stuff already gone. He glances around the area slowly, taking in the wails of the fire trucks from blocks away and the neighboring rooms of the hotel as residents speak in mutters from behind walls. The air is cold and lifeless.

He grabs his things in total silence, swallowing down saliva paired with long breaths. Ghost’s eyes remain tight. Body wound and coated in rigidity that could rival a rhino’s armored plates.

Mind whirling, but still ever mute, he leaves the hotel and heads to the coordinates Price had given the two of you alone. The absence of your warm body beside his was more jarring than anything he’d expected to experience.

Ghost didn’t want to admit how many times his eyes trailed to the empty concrete at his left.

—

When you lose something in someone, you tend to lose it hard. Thus still, that was the case here. Ghost and you always jabbed at each other—it was in your nature to do so—but this was different. The Lieutenant could be cold, but…never to the extent to shove you away from helping him with his wounds.

Both of you always did that with the other, if that be physically or just being in the same room, while getting fixed up.

If Ghost didn’t want you around for whatever rage-inducing reason, you weren't going to grovel or beg. The sudden switch-up still stabbed you in the heart though.

On the second week, it got easier.

You passed by Ghost without a single comment, shifting into the meeting room once more. He grunts as you shimmy through the door right before him, his feet halting before he runs into you.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Masque, you lost your bloody eyes or something?” You don’t answer, blankly walking to the end of the table and taking the single chair with steady steps; sitting down and dragging a notepad to your general area.

Blinking, you look up at the projection and skim the small details they give over.

Ghost stares from the doorway, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he slips inside and slowly strides to the table.

The days had been difficult for him, struggling to re-situate himself to his isolation after you’d been with him for years. Sure he had Johnny, Gaz, and Price, but you were…

Ghost places a veiny hand on the back of a chair about four down from yours, knuckles white as he’d shed his gloves not five minutes ago. His eyes stay stuck to the tabletop, hips shifting. He hadn’t thought it would be this hard to push you out. Not only physically but mentally.

He found himself thinking of your face at night. Like a phantom, it would snap into his consciousness when the lights went out and the shadows got long. Your smile and your skin. How your fingers would gently press into his flesh when you were threading a needle through him—shivers of pleasure and pain intertwined by the scrape of your nails.

Ghost’s hand tightens on the chair, and you spare him a tense glance as he seemingly fights within his mind.

The Lieutenant wonders at your willpower and your drive. He spent the weeks hating that he had gotten what he wanted, and then he hated himself more because of that fact. It was good to keep you away from him. Not only for himself but for you.

You both were becoming too….attached. Ghost would have none of it. It had bled over into him using his own body to protect yours that was just…was just…

“...Those new tags, then?” You look away from the screen and shift your gaze to him as his voice bounces.

Around your neck, the new reflective metal of your new dog tags glint. Your heart skips when he speaks to you, but he still doesn’t look your way.

“That an apology?” Deadpanning, your unimpressed gaze glares into his face as his hand strangles the chair.

The room returns to strained silence. You huff.

“Pretty shitty one there, asshat.” Ghost’s shoulders roll under his gear, a great sigh quickly exiting him. Everyone had noticed the tension over time—it was becoming a detriment to the team.

The Lieutenant’s blue eyes darken, and in his body, a great heat was beginning to burn. Just looking at you provoked lucid and vulgar thoughts, and as the dim light from the projector makes shadows on your face, Ghost traces them with a chained desire. Being away from you was a physical pain to him, but he also knew that being around you was worse.

All of Ghost’s problems may have started and ended with you, but they also grew in his own head. They’d been there in the back corners ever since he’d given you your nickname; found out he liked the way your face was wet with spilled blood and sweat. Your body. Your hands on the hard flesh of his upper thigh…trailing up...

Ghost’s pants get tight as he stares without saying anything. Watching you scribble on your notepad. Glaring.

“Why can’t I get you out of my fucking head?” Your ears twitch at the low growl as if coming from a beast; seconds later, your brain catches up to process the words. Your pen stops its pointless scrawling just as your breath does. Ghost spits out, seeing your form straighten in the chair, “Every bloody thought, you’re right there!”

His boots stomp to the floor, and before you know it a hand is trapping the back of your head, fingers carding through hair to angle your chin up. Your breath gasps out as your wide eyes lock on Ghost’s, his hold tight but not uncomfortable; as if he knows the perfect amount of pressure to make your blood surge and your pupils expand.

You stare into volatile blue with silver flecks, a skeletal mask stained from dirt and blood. Ghost’s thumb digs into your scalp.

“Answer me, Masque,” he grunts, accent so thick you momentarily struggle to string the words together in your stupor.

Ghost’s nose is close to yours; breathing in each other’s air as the temperature rises. Your throat bobs with a swallow. Below you, you feel your legs clench together as the Lieutenant's fingers lightly pull on your roots when you don’t respond—small sparks of electricity run down your spine that make it straighten instinctually. A soft purr flies from your lips; face on fire as your lashes flutter. Your hands clench at the dull pulse in your lower body.

The Brit’s dead eyes stare down at you, glinting; studying you deeply with growing satisfaction in his heart and tension in his boxers.

You both glare half-lidded, panting, and flesh heated.

“Is this your apology?” He tightens his hand and you bite your lip, small whine meeting his ears as he represses a groan at the sound. Your voice was breathy but smug.

“You fucking wanted this, you naughty little beast,” Ghost growls, moving even closer to tower over you. “You’re playin’ me.” You mold into him as you still sit in your chair, your chin set onto his upper abdomen as the midsection of your breasts presses into his crotch; brushing against his hardened bulge firmly.

You shiver at the feeling, your core leaking out slippery fluids to stain through your pants one second at a time. Every twitch of his fingers leaves you wanting to arch into him. Feel him.

Ghost feels your hands go to wrap his open thighs, nails digging into the back of his pants as his mouth opens under the mask to force out air.

“You liked me in between your legs, didn’t you?” Your tiny, teasing, voice serenades him as he quickly begins to lose control of his composure.

“Shut it,” Ghost grunts, mind yelling at him to move away, “Shut your damn mouth.”

Those pupils were so wide his eyes were almost entirely black, feral chest moving quickly.

“I already know why you snapped at me…” One of your hands travels back to the Lieutenant’s front, skin tingling at the scratch of a belt and the rough fabric of his cargos. You leave it over his crotch and add a tight amount of pressure; mouth lightly opening at the weight and size of him as Ghost grunts deeply, thighs jerking forward.

Blinking at his glassy eyes you breathe out into thick air and the veiled threat of something more. His hand in your hair is so tight that you feel your pulse under the tendrils—you enjoy every second of this cat-and-mouse game.

After all, no one knew who the mouse was yet.

You rub your hand up and down and watch Ghost’s clothed dick, feeling his muscles straining to keep himself in control. He lets you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, his pants getting gradually wet with precum; hips twitching.

“...You can’t get enough of me touching you, can you?” Your statement ignites something immediately, and you’re being grabbed by your shoulders and forced to your feet.

Staring wildly, you cringe at the soaking patch under your clothes but let Ghost place your backside on the table. He presses into your hips to keep you there—legs opened and feet planted to the floor below on their tip-toes.

The man breathes like a lion, nose in front of yours. You slightly smirk at the far-off haze in his eyes, lust and pleasure blending and bleeding into the almost bruising hold he uses to press you down.

He watches you for a minute or two—taking in your scent and the rabid instinct that infects the both of you now that everything was on the table.

You knew you were right; he knew you were right. Licking your lips you look down and stare at his blatant hard-on hungrily. Your brow raises slowly.

“You going to let me take care of that, Ghosty?” He’s up and locking the door after he slims it shut.

“This is it,” Ghost grunts, “one time, Masque. That’s fucking it, you hear?”

“Awe,” You cue, swishing your legs as he stomps back over, hand grasping his belt and whipping it off with a flex of his forearm. Your core tightens, hips trying to press back into the table. “That's so cute. You think once is enough.”

A hand captures your jaw, “I said,” he breathes, the other hand going to shift up the bottom of his mask up to his nose. You gasp at the sight of blond stubble and milky scars. A strong jaw wound like a spring. Ghost’s musk invades your nose and you feel your palms so clammy. “...Shut it.”

Hard lips slam into yours.

Like some game between the two of you, your mouths fight one another with aggressive grunts stuck in your throats, sharp inhales of air between partings. Ghost’s lips mold and conform to yours, clinging around the supple flesh—there’s a deep-rooted intensity, a hunger, and a desire mixed with sweet stubbornness. The tang of metal and old canvas opens to you just as your mouth does when his teeth bite down at your skin.

Quickly sucking down breaths, you feel his tongue push past layers and slip into your awaiting clutch; Ghost groans lowly and explores as his hands bare down into your hips, one making its way to grip at your hair again. Your own dig into his waist as he leans over you.

He latches onto your hair and peels you back from him, tongue sliding out of your mouth as he moves to nip at your chin—angling your head whichever way he wants to. Your skin burns as the man bites down at your neck, hot saliva stuck to your lips as your chest pants fast with a low whine at the mixture of pain and bliss.

Below you, your legs are wide to allow Ghost to stand between you, his firmness leaving your hips canting at every hickey he leaves behind and how he shivers into you as you move against him. It was addicting to him—your taste and how your flesh yields to him as he clamps down on it ruthlessly and rapidly. In no time he’d traveled the length of the area behind your ear and down the swell of your shoulder; shirt pushed back by his nose.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, eyes glassy as you blankly stare into the far wall over the Lieutenant’s shoulder; your panties are soaked through and the evidence can be felt. A long whine exits your chest when Ghost licks at the deep marks he left behind, blown eyes coming back to stare at you head-on as if in a trance.

His lips are red and swollen, mouth open with silent, fast, breaths. His large chest moves quickly over yours. He orders you in a hoarse voice; strained, “Get on your knees.”

Licking your lips your widened gaze stays locked on his, the hand in your hair tight and keeping you away from slamming your mouth back to his. The air is electric, both of your bodies yielding to one another's even if you don’t realize it.

As much as you wanted to scoff and roll your eyes at the comment, to make him apologize to you for what he’s done, you realize that your body has already complied with the request. Slipping off the table, Ghost watches like a hawk and backs up two steps—feet splayed as you move for him. Your knees slowly lower you down to the floor, connecting with the carpet as you sag, fists clenched and shaking.

There’s a small, heart-pounding, pause. “...Good girl.”

Your jaw drops at the smirk on Ghost’s face and those flashing dead eyes of his, blood thumping with a newly ingrained need. You swallow and feel your throat bob; legs shifting to push back the inner-body itch that grows by the second.

“Now you can listen to me, yeah? Such a slut for it.” Ghost’s hands slowly trail to his pant’s zipper, sliding the piece down the teeth with barely audible metal on metal. Your fingers twitch at every small pop; how the zipper itself had to move forward with the strain of his sizable erection. You can’t even look away from it—how his pants are stiff against tense thighs and the sleeves of his shirt are rucked up to show the black ink of tattoos.

Ghost had tattoos.

When the teeth had run out and the man’s hands grappled for the waistband of both his cargo and his boxers, you’d found out you’d been staring the entire time, pupils so wide they matched Ghost’s and the black stain of his face-paint.

“Fuckin’ hell, Masque,” he grunts, knuckles white and going still, “bet your pretty little cunt is soaked and I ‘aven’t even shown you my bloody dick yet, eh? Well, the thing’ll ‘ave to wait, I’m puttin’ that mouth to good use first. Teaching it who to listen to.”

You startle back, blinking away the burning heat on your cheeks that leaves you uncharacteristically stuttering at the vulgar degradation. But Ghost doesn’t notice, doing what he can to move the various straps along his thighs and his upper hips to be able to free himself quickly—eager and dripping to be down your throat.

The throat and mouth he’d fantasized about for ages.

Stiffing down a whiny moan, you finally see the veiny girth of Ghost’s cock as it comes free over the top of the tight white cotton of his boxers; a happy trail extending up his visible abdomen when his wrist snatches it out.

“Put to good use?” You breathe out, “Christ, you’re going to make me fucking mute, Ghosty.”

“Well, Sweetheart,” he breathes a sigh of relief as he plays with the leaking tip with his thumb. Your hands itch to brush against your achy clit, the pressure in your chest almost enough to make you sob at the sheer nothingness. Sweat glistens over your forehead. Eyes glare at you as you watch thighs tense and loosen. “That’ll be fine by me. Don’t need you speaking when I’m paintin’ your damn cunt with my cum, do I?”

Jesus, you both were in the fucking meeting room. Going to fuck in the meeting room.

You lick your lips and stare as Ghost stalks close again, gripping your chin and opening your jaw with his thumb and first finger. His dick was right in front of you, and you can smell sex and sweat like an animalistic aphrodisiac as it coats your brain with lust as you moan out.

Your arms tense with a want to reach and touch it, watch as Ghost falls apart below the twist of your wrist. It was so addictive you feel yourself clench at the visual, your body shivering violently.

“Oi, fucking focus.” Your tongue sneaks out and licks Ghost’s finger and he feels his grip tighten on you with a puff of hot air. “Little brat.”

He stares into your mouth and breathes deeply as a smirk peels the edges of your lip. Blue swirls with anticipation.

“Keep it open, then.” Ghost’s hand drops from you and you easily keep your mouth open as his hand goes back to his cock, grasping it firmly as the other finds the top of your head. You shiver and shift your thighs under you, your body striking like a drum to oxycontin and adrenaline. “That’s a girl…” The Lieutenant growls, and the tip of his dick slips into your saliva-dripping mouth with hidden fever. “Fuck.”

Your eyes flutter at the taste, letting him maneuver your face closer to the base as your hands snap to his thighs—nails digging in and eliciting a sharp inhale as you press into the two-week-old wound under his pants. Ghost curses under his breath but watches in flooding pleasure at the image of his cock disappearing farther and farther into you. Inch by inch you tell yourself to breathe through your nose; feeling the make of his veins and the mushroomed tip traveling farther and farther back.

Moaning in the base of your neck, Ghost instinctually jerks his hips at the sound, feral grunts trapped in his chest. Your eyes go wide with the prickle of tears, not from pain but from the surprise as you gag. His hold on your hair tightens and you mewl as he continues to lose himself to the feeling of your wet heat.

He was so big it was like your throat was ripping new sinews just for him, and you reveled in every moment of the feeling of his predatory gaze.

“So bloody tight for me—can’t wait to be in that cunt of yours…can’t be better than this. Have to test it.” He talks more when he’s horney.

Slightly gagging again at the sheer size, his palming hand presses you deeper and you take him as well as you’re able, still space between your nose and his pelvis as your knees dig harder into the ground. Ghost groans gutturally, head slightly lulling back and panting like a dog, looking down at your red eyes and far-off gaze. Your hands kneed his upper thighs and he smirks slowly.

Without another word and with sweat staining him under his uniform, bits and bobs from his gear start to clink together and dance as his hips set a rough pace; you find your head being puppeteered back and forth with his thrusts as your scalp flames from his hold. Tears burn immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it—such a good little slut for me, Masque. Gettin’ it down, fuck,” Ghost pants, as you hollow your cheeks, back arching into you and leaving your nostrils flaring to take down air for your spasming lungs. The sight above you was sinful.

Your Lieutenant in full gear, pants and skin-tight boxers stretching and shoved down just under the clutch of his crotch. With every back-and-forth motion, the zipper grazes the underside of your engorged throat as every vein can be undoubtedly seared into your esophagus like a brand.

Ghost’s eyes flutter and flinch, but never once does his hazy gaze leave your mouth as he continues to jerk your head back and forth. Saliva drips drown your chin and the nearly painful burn in your navel lets you know how true this was a relief not only for Ghost but for you as well. You wanted to touch yourself, but you can’t stop touching the Brit—not for a second. Shit, you think you could fall apart just by looking at this; you were sure Ghost was thinking the same thing.

“Look at that, makin’ such a fucking mess of you.” His abdomen tightens and rolls with every jerk and rut, and your eyes roll back with a deep whine in the back of your throat when he hits the back of your throat. Sweat splatters down your temple as the air is steeped with animalistic desperation. Ghost whines thickly in answer and seems to speed up as your hands claw at his thighs. “You like that, pet? Huh? Being my little cock-sleeve.”

Your nails dig deeper into his flesh and he shivers wildly; eyes flash at the sight of himself disappearing into you and exiting just after as the slap of wet skin reverberates. The tension in his chest increases and he starts to desperately kneed at your hair.

“If I’d known you’d take it down like this, I’d-I’d have made you hate me sooner, yeah?” Tension fizzles up his jaw and you know he’s close by how he bites down into his lip and tilts his head back.

Instinctual tears travel down your sweat-slick face, the thought of being used like this vulgar and as dirty as the sounds that echo in your throat and strike down your spine.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost gasps, and his pace stutters as he twists your locks. Your teeth graze along his flesh as you dig your thumb into his wound to steady yourself. Whining loudly, the action seems to get to the man using your mouth for his pleasure, as not three rough thrusts later the warm feeling of his cum splatters the back of your throat in thick, hot, spurts.

Choking for a moment, the widening of your eyes meets Ghost’s fluttering lashes from above. His free hand goes behind you to slam onto the tabletop; back curved over you as he shakes and sputters as he rides out his high.

Cum drips out of the seams of your stretched lips, and with a deep breath through your nose, your hand lowers from Ghost’s thighs as you carefully pull your face back from his pelvis. The sensation of his cock leaving your mouth and bringing saliva and his fluids with it was animalistic at best, they spill to the floor and off of your chin like a small river.

Licking your lips, you swallow what you can and try to catch your breath as your chest rages. Blinking rapidly, your eye twitches as you bring a hand up to your sore and ragged throat, Ghost’s heaving body stiff and hunched as he stares at the table blankly. Sweat dribbles down the side of his nose, sneaking out from under the top side of his mask.

There’s a long minute of nothingness as you both try to breathe and understand the gravity of what you’ve both done. And then you both lock eyes and stare.

The air stills over as Ghost’s large pupils stare at the mess on your face—seeing it drip down your throat as you tilt your chin up to him. His chest purrs like a cat and you don’t even think he realizes that he does it.

Two seconds later you’re being manhandled up to the top of the table, backside hitting it as a hand goes to your belt. Lips connect with yours and groan at the taste, the clinking of metal hitting your ears as you submit to his prodding tongue as it licks along your inner flesh.

Your fingers snap to trail around Ghost’s neck, moaning into him as he slips his hands into your pants, pulling back and ordering, “Up.” Eager and filled with lust, you raise your legs and he rips them down to your knees, dragging you closer to the edge.

“Good girl.” He smirks, black-smeared eyes creased. If you could speak you’d tell him to shut up and fuck you already.

Your slick skin meets the air and you gasp, Ghost’s hands waste no time trailing up the flesh of your hips, pitching to make you jump. Glaring, you try to drag him back into you but he’s built like stone, clicking his tongue. When his fingers collect the fluids that drip out of you, you whimper at the stimulation—two calloused fingers getting entranced by that as they stop at your clit. You stare desperately into amused blue eyes as he pressed deep, your thighs tensing as they jerk.

“Any more of this and you’ll stain the table, won’t you, Sweetheart? I get you this worked up, yeah? Bloody hell.” You pant, and lines form on your forehead at the indecent circling of his fingers; not being gentle as he sees your mouth open and your lungs gasp. Sharp spikes form in your thighs, and they move in tandem with Ghost. “Look at that…”

Deep chuckles mock you, but you both know this has to be fast—and with how worked up you were, it would be.

“Alright, then, brat,” Ghost takes his hand away and you whimper before he grunts and grips you by the shoulders. Your lust turns to confusion. “Suppose you did well. Let’s make this quick, eh? Got work to do.”

Flipped around, you squeak as your clothed chest meets the table, ass presented as your feet scramble to connect with the floor. Surprised, you whip your head to the side to stare back at a highly smug Ghost as one of his hands goes to grab onto your supple flesh, massaging it before it sneaks to your hip.

“Easy with it, I’ll take care of you, Masque.” In little to no time he’s lining himself up with your dripping pussy, so wet it’s easy except for the fact that he’s huge enough to make you mute by a blowjob. Your back arches into the table with a long moan as the length slowly spears you open, instinctually widening your legs as best as you’re able.

Closing your eyes, you press one of your hands to your mouth to stifle your noises, thighs spasming as Ghost curses under his breath; gear clinking into each other.

“So bloody tight.” With a swift thrust and a knock of your pelvis to the edge of the table, your eyes burn with the feeling of holding Ghost in your most intimate area and the knowledge that he would completely wreck it for anyone else. Your lungs fight for air, but a long mewl exits your fingers as the man shakes over you with restraint. “Christ.”

Tight wasn’t the way to describe it—you were like a fucking noose. Your sensitive walls know every vein and bulge, the scrape and dig, far more intimately than your throat ever could. Like a carved stamp, they’re reforming to Ghost’s dick every second.

Tapping the side of your forehead to the table, the man can’t help himself anymore and starts to thrust into you; feral squelching and fluids staining the top of his pants. Your face burns, the rocking of the table hypnotic as your toes fight to stay on the ground. The sensation of being so full truthfully made your mind go blank, fingers twitching as Ghost continued to palm at your hip—his other hand going to press into your spine, keeping you stapled to the table.

His gear slammed and rubbed into your ass, bruising it no doubt, but you found you didn’t care at all. Pleasure rocked down with every ruthless intrusion.

“Can feel ya ‘round my cock,” you keen at the words, tears dribbling down the side of your face as you try to hold back sobs of pleasure. Ghost increases his pace, rabid slapping echoing off the walls as he feels his sole focus on your mind-shattering bliss. “Can’t have ‘em hear how loud you are, now, can we? Can’t let ‘em know I’m shagging you in their meeting room like a little fucktoy, eh?”

He angles his hips higher, pushing your farther up the table as his hands only drag you back. Every moment leaves your core tightening even more; molten heat pooling as the edge gets closer.

Footsteps echo down the hall outside, but both of you are too focused on the other and the ache that only increases like a pair of cuffs. Your mouth lets loose insistent gasps and moans while Ghost breathily groans at every other interval of his ravaging cock as it brushes your cervix.

You whine loudly, spine arching and legs desperately trying to close. Ghost chuckles and your reaction spurs him on—hitting that same spot over and over again as you sob.

“Right there, yeah? That it, Masque?” You nod rapidly, and the Lieutenant's grip tightens with a loud grunt, “Fuck, that’s it, bloody slut.”

The coil in your gut gets tighter, shining with desperate shakes of your body and the numb way you try to meet Ghost’s thrusts before you entirely lose the plot of reality.

“You’re close,” he breathes, feeling your pussy trying to keep him in, slick trailing down the insides of your thighs and transferring to the Brit’s clothes. His boxers were soaked. “C’mon, then. Don’t disappoint me, Masque. Lemme see you cum on my cock before I fill you up like the good girl you are, yeah?”

Your body spasms, thighs tensing and toes curling at the floor; fingers scratching down the table as you press over your mouth harder in a last-ditch effort to remain in control of yourself. The coil snaps and suddenly you’re digging your forehead into the wood below you, orgasm ripping through you like a knife as cum paints Ghost’s dick as he continues his relentless chase of his second release.

“There it is, fuck, look at all that, Love. Paintin’ me like a naughty fuckin’ portrait.” Ghost gasps, a hand coming up to connect to the table by your head, feeling you completely flood his pelvis—he doesn’t stop even when you whine in overstimulation, fucked-out eyes wide and mouth dripping drool into a small pool. The milky ring at his root grows and grows. With a loud moan, he looks down and watches the vulgar sight rabidly, pounding into your heat as his own end gets closer and closer.

“Shite,” His forehead hits your spine, taking the skin into his teeth and biting hickeys as his open mouth leaves trails of saliva. “Took me so bloody well, cunt was made just for me.”

His body shakes and with one last shove from his hips, he spills into you with a loud whimper muffled into your flesh. Teeth biting down so hard that you moan in turn, the spent releases dribble out of you like a stuffed bird. You feel his chest atop you as he places his weight slowly down; the fast-panting mirroring your own.

Sweat connects the two of you as it bleeds through your clothes, the smell in the air and the scent of delirious sex staining your bodies.

Your mouth remains open and hoarse, scraped dry. Ghost above you moves delicately as he pulls back up, moving back to peel your messy hair away from your blown eyes. After a moment his small voice hits you—the accent deep.

“All good?” Your eyes slowly rove to him as he kisses your forehead, shivering violently as he slips out of you; the wet drip of cum hits the carpet in the still silence as you whimper at the feeling. “...Masque?”

Dull concern emanates from his tone and you blink back. You clear your throat and utter in a torn voice, “...P-pretty good apology, Ghosty…S…shit.”

Smugness burns in his orbs, but the roll of his eyes hides it quickly. The puff of his chest couldn’t be hidden from you, though.

His hands reach down and hike up your panties and cargos—both items completely wrecked. The large splotch on Ghost’s own clothes showed you that you weren't alone in that aspect.

As he carefully flips your limp form back over and pulls you up by your arms, you groan in annoyance but shut up when his hands go to zip your zipper and clip back your belt.

“Couldn’t have had a revelation in your barracks room?” You huff, itching at your throat. “You’re buying me cough drops, you ass.” The state of your voice was laughable. Anyone would know what happened if they spoke to you.

Ghost sighs and begins with his own clothes, stuffing himself back into his boxers and growling at the chilled fluids on his pants as he pulls them back up. He goes and retrieves his belt before walking back.

“Acting like you weren’t beggin’ for it.” He slides you a smirk before he grabs onto his mask and begins to cover his jaw.

Your hand snaps out and stops him. Ghost startles, eyes flashing before his muscles stiffen. You raise a brow and he slightly calms.

Scoffing, you lean in and place a final kiss on his lips—a tinier and tender kiss. Gaze wide, the man stares off as his heart starts to beat fast again at the firm press. After you’re done your hand goes up and grasps the fabric yourself, carefully re-shrouding the mystery of a man with a smile.

He watches blankly.

“We okay?” You ask, tilting your head as your lower body aches when you shift on the table. “I miss my annoyingly gruff Ghost. This new one’s a jerk.” A small laugh graces your ears, and it makes you beam. “I know why you did it,” you admit, and hold out a hand between your bodies. “But pushing me away will only hurt the both of us. Let's try this, Ghost. Please.”

“...You’re makin’ it seem like a good deal, Love…is it?” He holds out a hand of his own, large and scarred hands that had gripped you so tight before utterly loose and awaiting.

“No clue,” you admit with a smirk, “Wanna figure it out?” Ghost watches as he always does and always will, searching into your eyes for any hint of hesitance or denial.

“Always liked a challenge.” He grunts and encompasses his hand with yours. You squeeze it and nod, chest light as your normal breath comes back.

“You know what a real challenge is? Trying to take down your fucking dic—” The meeting room handle jiggles and you both snap into action.

Ghost tosses you your notepad and you slide a shoved-away chair his way on shaky legs, slipping into a free seat with failing knees. You both sit side by side on the opposite side of the table, shoulders bumping and faces hot not three seconds later. Ears twitch at the sound of a key entering the slot.

You try to act normal and begin messing around with your notepad, stealing a pen from Ghost’s gear as Price opens the door. At the sight of the two of you, he pauses and stands in the doorway.

“Ghost…Masque.” With a squint, Price looks around the room slowly, confused at the rod-straight spine from his Lieutenant and the way you awkwardly scribble nothing onto your pad.

“Price,” Ghost utters as you look up and fake smile, waving as you tighten your hips under the table in an attempt to hide the evidence spilling out of you.

The Captain continues to stare, scrutiny in his eyes, for at least a full minute.

“Problem, then?” The Lieutenant asks. Price’s lips thin and he gains a sheen of deep annoyance. You groan under your breath and knock your head to the table at the next comment.

“In the fucking meeting room?!”

TAGS:

@emerald-valkyrie , @anna-banana27 , @blueoorchid , @cryingnotcrying , @writeforfandoms , @homicidal-slvt , @jade-jax , @frazie99 , @elmoees , @littlemisstrouble , @alpineswinter , @phoenixhalliwell , @idocarealot , @lavalleon , @facelessmemories , @h-leigh, @20forty9 , @glitter-anon-asks , @emily-who-killed-a-man , @neelehksttr, @aeneanc , @escapefromrealitysm , @i-d-1-0-t , @pparcxysm , @hawkscanendme , @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney , @sanfransolomitatm , @maelstrom007 , @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet , @pheobees , @glitterypirateduck , @uselsshuman , @fan-of-encouragement , @halfmoth-halfman , @ghostlythunderbird , @I-inkage, @pukbadger , @kopatych11 , @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop , @knightofsexyness , @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons , @330bpm-whiplash , @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu , @tiredmetalenthusiast

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cntloup · 4 months

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simon x caféworker!reader

part 1

as soon as his figure appears through the door of the café, you perk up, eyes glinting and the previous annoyance with your clumsy coworkers and rude customers long forgotten.

it's like his presence alone brings a sense of calmness to the atmosphere, or maybe it's just your undeniable infatuation with him.

he walks up to you with heavy strides and orders his usual black coffee after saying hi with a lingering gaze on your face that lasts an eternity, it feels like.

you almost melt under his intense glare, beautiful hazel eyes locked onto yours as you stare at each other.

"oh... right." you say, shaking your head with a nervous chuckle, finally acknowledging the words that left his mouth and realizing the staring contest could last forever, "coming right up." you utter and move to prepare his order.

he takes a seat on a stool and rests his arms on the counter, letting out a weary sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"long day?" you ask while your hands are busy making his coffee, eyebrows furrowed in concern, "long month." he replies, his voice deep and dark.

"didn't see you for a while? been away?" you question as you place the coffee in front of him, curiosity bubbling up inside you, but you're careful not to pry or sound too nosy since you know about his secretive nature.

"yeah. deployment. about a month." he responds in a monotone manner. but the pain and exhaustion are evident in his eyes as you take a short glance at him.

"wanna talk about it? i'll take my smoke break in five minutes." you offer kindly, despite knowing he most probably will decline.

"i'll share a smoke, but the talking part... not really my thing." he says, his low voice accompanied by a bitter chuckle.

"ok! i'll be right back." you smile and he nods as you leave to finish your business and return about two minutes later.

"care to join me, mr. riley?" you ask while a playful smile dances on your lips, making him chuckle as he follows you through the backdoor.

"i missed you..." you blurt out, mentally slapping yourself, "i mean... talking to you and sharing a smoke... you know?" you correct yourself and take a drag before handing him the cigarette.

"yea... me too." he mutters, taking the cig from you, his rough fingers lightly brushing against yours.

you spend a few minutes as a comfortable silence settles between you, exchanging occasional glances and soft smiles.

'this is really nice.' you think to yourself before he gently taps your chin with his index finger, shaking you out of your trance.

you turn to him as he takes a long drag and you get the message, opening your lovely lips, waiting for him.

and he leans in, placing his lips onto yours and blows the smoke into your mouth as you take it all in.

you smile lovingly at him, and in that moment he realizes how much he wants you, needs you... gazing at your gorgeous features illuminated by the soft evening light.

he wastes no time, no place for hesitation, he thinks to himself as he leans in to capture your lips with his and you return the loving kiss, laced with longing and desperation.

you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer as your lips dance smoothly together.

"i'll pick you up at 7." he murmurs against your lips after pulling away breathless, "ok." you breathe out, chest heaving as you catch your breath.

and he walks away without another word, leaving you in shock and awe at what just happened.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod fanfic

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kentopedia · 4 months

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˚₊‧꒰ა skin — chuuya nakahara

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. chuuya's acting different… but you brush it off and don't think anything of it.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, suggestive but sfw, f!reader, domestic life, established relationship, implied dubcon, open ending, horror/mystery elements, wc: 2.5k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. i'm a bit nervous to see how this will be received, so pls reblog or drop a comment if you enjoy <3

part of my summerween series !

the scent of freshly brewed coffee and your favorite breakfast food are the first things that you smell when you wake up. for a few moments, you think it’s a dream — when’s the last time chuuya cooked this early in the morning? you half expect to walk out there and wake up again later, finding that you’d never opened your eyes at all.

but when you roll out of bed, tug a robe over your shoulders, chuuya is there, a presence larger than life, almost, standing in front of the stove, and you are undeniably awake.

you wrinkle your eyebrows together, glancing at the plates scattered across the counter. in your two years of marriage, this is the first that you’ve seen such a display. chuuya isn’t a morning person, he never has been, and usually something quick is enough to settle his stomach for a while.

“chuuya?” you asked, sitting at the table, his back still turned to you. he’s fully dressed, hair falling in loose waves over his shoulders, burning brighter from the sun filtering in through the window. “what are you doing?”

your husband turns, smiling at you over his shoulder. as always, it takes your breath away. he is so handsome, sometimes, it makes you forget yourself. “can’t i cook for my beautiful wife?” he asks, sliding a cup of coffee to you on the tabletop.

you smile, as his hands graze your temple, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you never cook breakfast. you don’t like it.” besides, this is far too much for two people to enjoy.

he laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then the small, confused wrinkle between your eyes. it slips away as you sit up straighter, capture his lips with your own, tasting the coffee on his mouth.

“but you do,” chuuya says.

you’re honestly indifferent towards breakfast, but you let it slide, tucking your chin into your hand as you watch him work away. if he wants to do something nice, you’re not going to stop him. “weren’t you supposed to leave for a job this morning?”

chuuya shrugs, “i’m reassigned, i guess the boss wanted to send akutagawa instead. i’ll be staying in the city for this one, so you won’t get the chance to miss me.”

it makes sense now, why he had so generously made you breakfast. you stand, taking a longer sip of your coffee, before going to wrap your arms around his stomach, smell the hot food that wafts from behind him. “oh, so you had some time to kill?” you tease, running your hands across his abdomen. “and you decided to cook instead of doing… something else?”

your fingers trace a pattern around the zipper of his jeans, which are steadily growing tighter. chuuya grabs your wrist, tugs your hands away with a pointed look. “yes,” he says, through his teeth. “and you’re making it difficult.”

you lazily grin back, pressing one last kiss to his jawline before grabbing your coffee again, and standing beside him at the counter.

chuuya cooks with a precision that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before, delicately measuring each ingredient, tapping them into the bowls and pans. usually, he goes by his own instincts, and while he is by no means a great cook, he pulls things together in a way that only he could do. now, though, he seems almost uncertain, like he’s silently praying that everything will turn out alright.

“chuuya?” you ask, watching him carefully. his face contorts strangely as he looks over at you, but then it clears up, and he smiles, looking just as warm as he did the moment you walked into the room.

“yeah, baby?”

you want to ask him if he’s feeling alright—but that would shatter the mood, wouldn’t it? the serene morning bliss that has settled between you, as it so rarely seems to anymore. and it’s a blessing, not to have to watch him walk out that door and put himself in danger, able to spend more time with you.

shaking your head, you smile, and kiss him on the cheek softly. “never mind. i love you.”

“love you too.” he says it back immediately, which is also a little unlike your husband. there is always a pause before, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to maintain this sort of affection, like it’ll be taken away if he dares to speak the truth. he cherishes the love he has for you in that tiny pause, before relinquishing it, shoulders only relaxing when he sees you standing there, safe and sound.

but it’s been years since you’ve been together. you’re married, settled down — as settled as he can be as a mafia executive. perhaps he’s just relaxed into the fact that your love is eternal, and he's more confident in the notion that it won’t be taken away from him.

the rest of the morning passes quickly, when you and chuuya find yourselves back into bed, mouths still tasting of coffee, the windows open just enough to clear out the smell of sweat between you, and the pans that have not fully been scrubbed.

at some point, you feel asleep, and you wake back up, overheated from the sheets tucked closely to your naked body. the sunlight filtering in through the glass is worse than metal of a furnace. your hair sticks to your scalp, and you spend the next half hour in the shower, dreading the looming months of summer and the heat that comes with it.

although there’s plenty of things for you to do while chuuya’s gone, you don’t feel like doing much of anything. just one of those days, you reason, even if it’s hard to rationalize that, when chuuya’s out there risking his life, and you’re inside, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and the picking up books you can’t bring yourself to read.

it’s a blur of a day, between very slowly making your way through the pile of laundry you’d forgotten to fold, and cleaning the sheets that had been washed just a few days earlier. chuuya returns, and suddenly, your foul mood caves into something much more pleasant, that pit in your stomach dissipating.

you still worry about him, constantly, even though you know he’s chuuya nakahara, and there are very few things on this earth that can challenge him. still, he’s your husband—you can’t help it.

chuuya kisses you as he returns, smiling into it, his fingers curling into the hair behind your ears.

“i can make dinner tonight,” you say, even though you don’t really feel like it. but he sees right through it, just like you knew he would. you can’t hide much from him.

“it’s okay. i’ll pick something up. know you haven’t been feeling up to it this week.”

you smile and kiss the palm of his hand, the leather of his glove cool against your mouth. how nice it is to be so loved by him, to be seen, for even the simplest of signs. “okay. thanks.”

he nods, leaves to retreat into the bedroom and change his dirtied shirt into a clean one. it’s then, that you notice he’s laid his coat across the back of one of your chairs — unusual, for him to wear it so far into the house.

you furrow your brow and pick it up, planning on hanging it on the rack by the door. but you notice, then, that it’s an older one, different from the coat he normally wears. the designer is the same, but there’s a hole in the pocket, which tells you he didn’t care enough to have it fixed.

an odd feeling twists itself inside you again. a bout of paranoia, likely. that’s all, isn’t it? you’re just having an off day, an off week, and you’re projecting that onto your husband, for no reason at all.

a sigh escapes you, and you shake your head, simply hanging it back up on the coat rack, when you notice his hat isn’t there either.

you frown, glancing back over your shoulder to the chair, the rest of the room. chuuya hadn’t been wearing it when he’d walked in, and you can’t remember seeing it on the rack before he left this morning.

which was odd. chuuya never went anywhere without it.

you jump, a vibration pulling you out of your thoughts, your cell phone ringing, buzzing on the table right by the doorway. it’s chuuya’s name flashing across the screen, a photo of him bright under the glass.

“hello?”

“hey, baby.”

you release a breath at the sound of chuuya’s voice. it instantly relaxes you, even though you, really, have no reason to be so alarmed.

your shoulders sink down, the tension draining from your body, and you smile instead, amused that he’s calling you from just one room over. the affectionate name twists your stomach up in butterflies and knots, and you roll your eyes. “hi, chuuya.”

“you have time to talk right now?”

“i suppose.”

“you suppose,” chuuya replies, snorting. “and here i thought you’d be happier to hear from me. i was about to apologize for not calling you earlier and everything.”

that’s a weird thing to say, you think. “chuuya, you know, you didn’t need to call. you could’ve just walked back in here.”

there’s a pause on the other end, a muffled sound in the background, like he’s getting out of a car. “what do you mean?”

“i mean you could’ve just walked back in here.”

he doesn’t seem to understand, and fakes a laugh. “very funny.” there’s a voice on the other end, and chuuya says something to the sound, before turning his attention back to you on the phone. your brow furrows, eyes drifting over to the door. “anyway, i only have a few minutes, but—”

“chuuya,” you say, feeling a tiny rush of fear swallow you. something is wrong. there’s no one in your house besides you and chuuya, and he’s been in your bedroom for minutes. you turn back around, facing the front door. "where are you?”

“huh? i’m in osaka, remember? i told you about the entire thing last night.” he sighs, something between irritation and amused fondness. “we had a pretty long conversation about it.”

“osaka?” you repeat. “but—i just saw you. just a few minutes ago. just this morning”

there’s silence on the other end of the line, as chuuya breathes, gathers his thoughts. you can tell, even within a second, that he’s either trying not to panic, or let his confusion give way to anger. “no, you didn’t. i left early this morning, you were still sleeping—”

“who are you talking to?”

you freeze. it comes from chuuya, but the chuuya that’s behind you, not the one you’re talking to on the phone. there’s a pinched look on his face as you turn, pretending like nothing is wrong. a guarded expression that wasn’t there before.

your mind goes blank as you stare at him, mouth growing dry. “i—”

“say dazai,” chuuya says through the static of the phone. you’re not sure how he heard the imposter at all, but it settles you, snapping you back into action.

“dazai?” you nearly spit.

it’s not often you chat with dazai, of all people, on the phone. you’re not particularly close. but it’s a good call by chuuya. dazai wouldn’t be keeping tabs on the port mafia member’s whereabouts, wouldn’t know that chuuya was out of town, and akutagawa was never reassigned. but he’s still dangerous. still someone that could be a threat to whoever is pretending to be your husband.

“dazai," you continue, recovering from your questioning response smoothly. "can i call you back later?”

chuuya speaks to you the other line, playing along. “i’m going to call someone to come over there. pretend like nothing’s wrong. everything will be okay.”

you feel tears prick the back of your eyes — you don’t want chuuya to hang up, but if the fake chuuya finds out you know, it could be an even worse outcome.

“okay. got it. i'll call you tomorrow then.”

“i love you.”

you resist the urge to answer the sentiment, and hang up the phone.

the fake chuuya stares back at you, as intently as you stare at him, neither of you blinking as you put your phone back into your pocket.

“what did dazai want?” he asks, standing straight, his back tense as you take a step forward.

there are a lot of weapons hidden around this house—chuuya has more than a handful of enemies, and wants to be prepared in case they ever find where he lives. where you live.

you’d thought it overkill. now, you’re grateful to have at least a fighting chance; if you can only get to the pistol that he keeps in the closet, at the end of the hallway.

“he’s working on a case. thought i might have some intel. i told him i’d look over the details tomorrow.”

“i see.” chuuya — not chuuya, you remind yourself, even though he’s wearing his face — nods. he watches you walk closer the closet door, eyes darting between the handle and your body. his eyes flash.

“you know,” he says, crisply, stopping you in your tracks. “i thought the phone might cause some issues. should’ve blocked the number this morning. amateur mistake on my part.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean your husband called, didn’t he? the real one.” not chuuya smiles, but it’s ugly, almost as if it’s contorting, melting off his face. “you know he’s been gone all morning. it wasn’t him who made you breakfast, took you to bed after.”

nausea fills your gut, and you look away, swallowing down the disgust that you feel. you can’t think about that. not now.

“although, you wouldn’t have known by the way i touched you, would you? how i knew exactly what you enjoy. i have every one of chuuya’s memories now. i know all about him, all about you.” he takes a long stride. you’re both just a pace away from the door, from the gun. if he has any of chuuya’s strength, you’ll lose—you’re no match for that kind of power.

you just need to hold him off, long enough for whoever chuuya sends over to help you.

“and also,” the fake chuuya continues lazily, a laugh clipping at the end of his words. “i know about the gun you’re looking for.”

there’s a dark grin on his face that propels you into action. you lunge towards the closet door, throwing it open, and chuuya lets you. he laughs darkly, doesn’t make any attempt to stop you from fumbling around the inside of closet for a gun that he put there. it doesn’t take you long to figure out why.

the gun isn’t there.

thank you so much for reading! ❤︎ title and inspiration come from ep 1.06 of supernatural- tag list: @little-miss-chaoss @erebus-et-eigengrau @soleelia @k0z3me

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ariestrxsh · 2 months

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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, fluff, sneaking around, getting caught, oral, risky sex

📝 author's note: 📝 this is the final part of a piece of my writing, and it's not necessary you read the other parts but if you'd like to you'll just have more context and more of a build up :) here is part one, and here is part two 💖

✍️ Summary: ✍️ After a few days of sneaking around with Chris and doing naughty things with him while on a vacation with him and his brothers, you guys plan to have sex for the first time, but the biggest obstacle is hiding it from Nick and Matt.

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road trippin' part three

Once we got out to the lobby, our faces lit up. The glorious aroma of various breakfast foods filled the air. There was coffee, orange juice, sausage, bacon, eggs, potatoes, biscuits and gravy, muffins, hot cereal, any breakfast food we could ever dream of really. We got ourselves plates full of our favorite foods and sat down to eat. We were laughing and smiling, feeding each other, and cracking jokes. I loved being around Chris. Our energies flowed so easily when we were alone together.

Soon, Nick and Matt came down to join us. "Wow, you're up early, Chris," Matt commented. I was normally happy to see the other brothers, but I associated them with having to police myself. Of course I could look at Chris, and laugh at his jokes, but I couldn't stare lovingly into his eyes or get lost in his smile with them around, so I made sure not to let my gaze or my touch linger too long on Chris when we interacted. I realllly did like sneaking around, though. I found myself wondering what Nick or Matt would do if they caught us, or what they would think if they knew their brother had me cumming all over his fingers the night before and cumming all over his tongue this morning. I didn't know why, but the idea of having a little secret and getting found out just made the whole situation that much hotter.

But there was another part of me that didn't want to hide. There was a part of me who wanted to hold his hand and kiss him, and not have to worry about it all being a secret. All four of us spent the day together, mostly hanging out around the hotel, and Chris and I secretly texted back and forth. "Fake sick tonight when Matt and Nick go out for dinner. I'll order us something, and we'll hang out just the two of us for our last night in town," Chris' text read.

Later that night, I put on the oscar-winning performance, Nick and Matt totally bought it. "You know, I think someone should stay here to look after her. She seems pretty sick," Chris said to his brothers. "That's really nice of you, Chris," Nick said, volunteering Chris, which was his plan anyway. Matt shot Chris a look like he knew he was up to something. But they still went out, leaving Chris and me alone.

Food that Chris ordered arrived shortly after the two boys left. Chris and I sat on my bed, feeding each other french fries, drinking our milkshakes, and talking about how we didn't want to leave the next day.

After us talking about our favorite things about the trip and finishing our food, we started kissing, rolling around the bed, messing up all the sheets, and removing our clothes. "I wanna see it," I said, pinching my lip between my teeth while I was straddling Chris. "Yeah, I guess you couldn't see much last night in the dark," Chris said, biting his lip back at me while I fiddled with the waistband of his pajama pants. I climbed off of him so he could take them off. He was already hard, his mushroom tip engorged, and it curved slightly to the left. He curled his fingers around his veiny shaft and started slowly moving it up and down. "Do you like it?" He asked, capturing my attention with the pre-cum glimmering as it slowly formed on the tip. I looked into his dreamy, glazed-over eyes and nodded.

I leaned down and slurped up his juices, and he let out a soft moan. I continued making soft circles with my tongue around the head, and I watched as he tossed his head back, his expression overcome by ecstasy. I wrapped my lips around it and took what I could into my mouth, and stroked the rest with my hand. He lowered his gaze to my mouth and the way I was hungrily taking in so much of him. "Fuck I love watching you do that," Chris whimpered, licking his lips. I loved watching him and the way his face was so expressive about how he was feeling. I focused my attention on the head, licking that sweet spot on the back of his cock where it meets the shaft, and I listened as his delicious sounds filled the room. I created some suction while my tongue danced across all his sensitive areas, and he peered down at me with a look of desperation and desire, his features softening while he started to come undone.

I loved how we didn't have to be quiet, unlike this morning and the night before. I loved experiencing his pleasure vicariously through him, through his sweet little noises and the way his eyebrows furrowed into a tightened expression while I brought him to the edge. I felt his sticky white fluid spurt across my tongue while he throbbed inside of my mouth and let out a final whimper. "Oh my god," Chris uttered breathlessly after he came. I noticed he was way less dominant this time and basically let me have my way with him however I wanted and let me be in complete control of the blowjob, which really turned me on. And I loved leaving him satisfied.

"Please let me ride you," I whispered to Chris after he started to recover from his climax. "Listen, I really want to, but we only have like ten minutes before my brothers walk through that door," Chris said checking his phone, "and honestly I just wanna hold you until then." This made me smile. "Maybe I can ride you tonight after the boys fall asleep," I said, putting my clothes back on and making my bed. "I would fucking love that," Chris said, holding out his arms for me to embrace him. And we cuddled in my bed until Matt's car pulled into the parking lot.

When they walked in, Chris and I were on our own separate beds, ignoring each other. "You feeling any better?" Matt inquired when he saw me. "What? Oh, I mean, a little bit. I think I have a stomach bug," I responded. "A stomach bug, huh? But you were feeling fine enough to eat a burger and fries from Five Guys?" Matt said, examining the trash we hadn't thrown out yet. I shot a look at Chris, unsure what to say. "I ate all that food, idiot. I just got her a milkshake," Chris said, not even looking up at Matt. "Yup. Haven't thrown it up yet," I said, smiling at Matt. He made a disgusted face at us both. I was worried he was onto us or at least suspecting something.

And I didn't want Chris to know, but I was falling for him. And we hadn't had the "what are we" conversation. We hadn't even discussed if this was something that was going to continue after our roadtrip was over and we were back in Boston, and because of that, I was dreading it coming to an end. Being on vacation with Chris felt like a fairytale that I never wanted to come to a close.

I went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, but I saw Chris behind me in the mirror when I came up from splashing cold water on my face. He slid his arms around my waist, nestled his smile into my neck and whispered, "I can't wait to fuck you silly tonight." I felt his erection on my back as he did this. Despite having cum like five times in the last 24 hours, he had me needing more. As soon as we both heard footsteps coming closer to the bathroom, Chris released his grip on me and picked up his toothbrush. When Matt walked up on us in the bathroom, we were both nonchalantly brushing our teeth, standing a few feet apart. Matt stood between us and grabbed his own toothbrush. "Listen, I don't know what the fuck you guys are hiding, but I'm gonna find out," Matt said sternly. Chris and I both got wide-eyed and I nearly choked as I tried to spit into the sink. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I responded in a hushed voice, so Nick wouldn't hear. "I know you guys are up to no good," Matt responded. "The way you both stayed back while we got food last night, the way you guys were looking at each other while we were eating, texting back and forth all day, the way you just faked sick on our last night and both had an excuse to hang back again?" Fuck, well when he put it like that, it seemed like we were really bad at sneaking around. We both stayed silent. "See? Neither one of you are denying it. And I don't know what the hell you guys have cooked up, but just know I'm one step ahead of you, and I'm gonna figure out whatever prank it is you're trying to pull on me," Matt said pointing sternly at us both. I felt a sigh of relief come over both Chris and me. Oh, thank god. Matt's just being paranoid about us fucking with him. At least he doesn't know we're fucking with each other instead. "Oh my god Matt, you're so paranoid. Why would we prank you?" Chris said, a smile creeping across his face as he look at me in the mirror, feeding into Matt's suspicions. "See? I knew it! Watch yourselves. You guys think you're slick, but I see everything," Matt threatened. And he started brushing his teeth. I rolled my eyes and made my way to my bed that Chris had I had done unspeakable things to each other in earlier. I was relieved that Matt didn't immediately jump to the correct conclusion, which was that Chris and I were sneaking around and getting each other off any chance we could get, but he was picking up on the energy between Chris and me, which made me nervous. He knew we were being sneaky, and I also knew Matt was going to be paying extra attention to the way Chris and I were interacting. We had to be extra careful from here on out. But that wasn't exactly gonna start tonight, because I still hadn't gotten to fuck Chris, and it was our last night before we pack up and go back home. Who knows? Tonight might be the only chance. Once I got into my bed, I texted Chris, "Make extra sure Matt is asleep before you come over to my bed tonight."

A few hours later, both Nick and Matt were asleep. Once Chris came over to my bed, he kissed me deeply. He immediately shoved his hand down the front of my panties. "Mmm already wet, I see?" He quietly cooed. I blushed, but he couldn't tell in the dark room. I didn't say anything. I just started taking his clothes off, and I pushed him up against the wall behind the head of the bed, and I straddled him. "I need you," he whispered into my ear as he moved my panties to the side.

I slowly lowered myself onto him, and I savored every inch as it slowly filled me. We both softly exhaled once he was all way inside. It didn't take long for me to get used to him, it didn't take long before it was getting difficult to stay at a slow pace to keep from waking the brothers. "Mmm so tight," Chris purred into my ear, in which I responded by riding a little faster. He pulled up my t-shirt and started running his hands over my breasts, taking one of them into his mouth. I was overwhelmed by how incredible all the stimulation felt. I tried to stay quiet, but I found obscenities and Chris' name flowing from my lips while I pleasured myself on Chris' cock. "Shhh are you trying to get us caught?" Chris laughed at me, knowing I couldn't help it and slipped a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. Sex with Chris was incredible, and having to be quiet almost made it harder to be. "Okay, darling, I need you to be quiet on your own okay? I need both hands for this," he smirked as he lifted me up by my hips and started thrusting.

At first, I was really good at holding back my whimpers, but it didn't take long before we were both approaching our climax, and our moans and panting definitely got out of hand. "Chris, what the fuck!?" We both heard Matt waking up and realizing what was going on, but it was too late. We were both teetering on an orgasm, and no matter how humiliated we both were, we couldn't stop.

I felt myself snap as Matt got up and turned on the light, and he definitely got a full view of me convulsing on Chris' cock as he finished me off with a few last strokes. Just then, Chris lifted me off of him, his dick coated in a layer of my fluids, and Matt couldn't help but to watch as Chris came into his hand while he rolled his eyes back and let out a loud "fuck," most likely a response to both the incredible pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that Matt had just witnessed the final seconds of it all. "Oh my god, I thought if I turned on the light, you sick fucks would stop!" Matt yelled. "Yeah, and I thought if you woke up while we were fucking, you'd pretend you didn't and go back to sleep, idiot." Chris said, covering himself with whatever piece of clothing was closest to him.

"What's happening?" Nick asked, poking his head over the couch and rubbing his eyes. I buried my face in my hands. "Oh, you know, they're just fucking in the bed next to me, that's all," Matt responded, rolling his eyes. "What the fuck? You two?" Nick pointed at us wide-eyed with his jaw on the floor. "Dude, I'm sorry, you don't understand how close I was when you turned on the light, I couldn't stop if I wanted to," Chris said, flustered, avoiding eye contact with everyone. "Yeah, trust me, I know. I was there," Matt gave his brother attitude. "Okay, let's not make this a whole thing. Can we just act like this never happened and go to bed?" Chris snapped back. "Yeah, but you're not sleeping in my bed with me," Matt snorted. "Wasn't planning on it, jackass. Now turn off the light," Chris told him. "Okay, but if you guys start getting it on again, I'm going downstairs and getting my own hotel room for the night," Matt responded. "Yeah, I'll be joining you Matt," Nick chimed in.

Matt turned off the light, everyone returned to their beds, but Chris stayed in mine. I had a million thoughts racing through my head. I was embarrassed, kind of turned on that we got caught like that, and ultimately confused as to why I had that reaction to the whole situation and what it meant going forward. I finally fell asleep in Chris' arms.

The next morning, when Chris and I woke up beside each other, we both smiled, and he kissed me. "Good morning, beautiful." My god, his morning voice was to die for. "Good morning," I smiled back. "I can't believe we got caught last night. Is it bad that I find it sort of hot?" I asked Chris.

"You guys make me sick," Matt said, turning over in his bed, apparently awake again. I blushed. "So what does this mean? You guys dating now?" Matt groggily asked, checking his phone. "Actually we hadn't gotten a chance to talk about it, Matt, but thanks for ruining the moment, because I was literally right about to ask," Chris said, turning to me, "do you wanna be my girlfriend?" I stared at him in silence for a few seconds. "You know, unless you were just fooling around and having fun, then I get that," Chris said, looking away and fidgeting with his hair. "No, I mean yes. I mean, no, it wasn't just fooling around to me, and yes, I do wanna be your girlfriend," I said, grinning. "Okay, good," Chris leaned in to kiss me. "Awh how cute," Matt said sarcastically, "now get the fuck up and help me pack." Chris leaned in and kissed me again, "I think I love you," he whispered, looking into my eyes. "I think I love you too."

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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hazelfoureyes · 5 months

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A Doe in Fall (part 6)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds

Part 6 Learning

Another night in bed with Alastor, but one that doesn’t feel quite right. You’re both learning about each other still. Unfortunately, it seems you’re not alone in finding out new information.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, blowjob, riding, swallowing CUM, mostly sex honestly, greenhouse , discussions of murder and dead bodies, nervous smoking, a nervous Alastor, tenderness, plants」

The tag list is broken, it wont let me copy and paste them as actual tags so I am manually adding them 😭

Minors DNI 🦌 🚘

You reached for the chain of the ceiling fan light, Alastor removing his clothes except his boxers as it was still too warm for pajamas. He pulled your clean slip from the drawer before making sure the window was locked but the curtains open. The bed softly illuminated with moonlight.

Oh no. It felt strange. You would think this was a scene you’d seen before, perhaps in a photo beside the definition of home.

“Dear?” Alastor pulled back the blanket and sheet, “Everything alright?” You arm was still extended and holding the chain.

No. I’m too comfortable here already. I don’t feel like a guest.

“Come to bed.” He patted your side of the bed. You got changed, feeling him watching you.

“It’s nice to get undressed with an audience in a…boring way.” You huffed, the ache in your feet still with you.

As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be.

“Not terribly, no.”

When you slid into the bed in your slip and garters you caught how he grinned at you and suddenly you felt so shy. He always made you feel like it was your first time alone with a man when he looked at you with that smile, with those sharp eyes. You felt naked, deeper than just clothes.

Alastor scooted closer to you, arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you to meet him in the middle. Kisses to the side of your face until you turned, lips captured. As his hand came to your neck, large palm resting on your upper chest, you willed your heart to calm down.

His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to cuddle in your fancy—,” you stretched your arms, “two person bed. Don’t worry about me.”

He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky, “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.

That was all you needed. Throwing your leg over him you straddled his lap. You reached down to make sure his soft member had room to grow. His hands came to your hips but you brought them to your face and leaned down to continue greedy kisses. Hips rolling forward against him, your little moans into his mouth earned you sighs in return.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.

Leaning back, you took his hand and sucked one finger into your mouth. Pulling it out you added another, your teeth coming to rest well past his knuckles. A raspy groan coming from deep in his chest. Your hips kept rocking, tongue twirling as you slowly pulled him out of your mouth again. He fought the urge to say thank you.

“Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”

His cock was twitching against you, but you needed a verbal yes before giving it your full attention.

“I’m not a huge fan of feeling my release on my skin.” He was frowning. An honest to god frown like a bummed out child. You couldn’t help but find it cute. He was usually smirking so the frown felt like seeing the Easter bunny smoking. Just, so out of place.

“Well hun I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you.”

A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”

You kissed his cheeks, feeling his blush heating your lips. Finally, you could be the one making a mess of the other. Moving down, you settled your own warm cheek in the crook where his thigh met his hip and let your hand lazily stroke him.

Dicks were remarkably ugly things, possibly done so animals would bury them every chance possible to avoid having to look at them. But Alastor’s cock was pretty. Tan and pink, long and slender with a slight curve up that seemed biologically strategic. It was a shame he didn’t show it off more, but that was none of your business.

“I missed you.” You cooed.

Alastor lifted his head from his pillow, he had been trying to not look at you because he already knew it would be too much. Sure enough, your barely lit face was looking at up from his lap. Eyes aglow with the dying summer moonlight and hand so tenderly touching him. What was he doing again?

Oh that’s right. You’d said something.

“Hmm?”

You kissed his tip, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

His head fell back down, making a noise that almost sounded like a word. Another peck of a kiss. Then a longer one. Your lips parted and his hands lightly gripped the sheets. Hot and wet, but a different version of wet heat you’d already allowed him to lose himself in. A firm palate and soft tongue running past his head and down his length.

For the life of him he couldn’t understand why you wanted to do this. The truth was you were already soaking through your panties, his little hip ruts and sharp inhales going straight to your core. You’d never wanted to please another person so much in your fucking life. Pornography made sense now, you’d pay to see photos of him spread out with a lusty face. But luckily your cost was minor, an express ticket to hell.

You took him down to the base before lifting your head again.

“I want you to make the pace.” You brought his hand to the back of your head. His normally sharp features now soft and squiggly. “Fast or slow, little bit or all of it, you can stop me entirely whenever you want.”

His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before.

Doting on his swollen head you licked his leaking precum from the slit. The look in your eyes promised to devour him as you sucked in your cheeks and made shallow moves, letting your hands slide down his shaft and balls. The weight of them in your hands had you twitching around nothing.

Alastor’s breath was rough and strained, but his moans soft. You released him with a pop.

“Alastor.”

His eyes were focused on the ceiling, fingers stroking mindlessly at your hair. “Yes?”

“Are you not comfortable with moving my head? You’re just petting me. We can stop or—?”

Alastor let his hand come down to your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, “No, no I don’t want to stop,” the look in eyes made you believe that. “I don’t know how to set the pace. You just want me to move your head? I’m not used to this and my brain is completely empty. Tell me plainly what you want and I’ll do it.” It sounded like a plea, almost begging for you to give him instruction. Because he was. He was pleading for you to tell him how to make you happy in new ways. “I want to do it.”

Plainly? Okay. This was one area of life you could manage to be completely straight. “I want you,” you kissed the tip of his cock again, “to guide my head on and off your cock,” a kiss down his shaft followed by another, “until you come in my throat.” You kissed the dark hair around his base, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of his manhood. “I wanna do it at your speed.”

A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”

You hummed as his hands guided you back down, was this still letting him take the lead? The lines were blurred of who was leading who. But that was fine, maybe two people could move forward in tandem.

It made your pussy clench with a need to be filled when he finally pressed your head all the way down. With some difficulty you kept your teeth from scratching him while hollowing your cheeks again.

Hands busy cupping and caressing his balls, you let him quicken his pace.

A pleasant surprise as his hips began to buck up with his increasingly strident groans. You moaned around his cock, taking quick breaths through your nose whenever you were pulled off before his thrusts and pushes choked you again. Your eyes were watering, glossy as you tried to focus on his face. Looking down and across his tightened stomach his eyes met yours. The way his mouth was open was one thing but the moan of your name as his eyes lolled back made you feel feral.

You shifted your hand to pumping his unsheathed length faster as he focused on his head hitting and sliding up the back of your tongue. You were confident he was almost at his peak. Seeing his eyes roll made you hungry to bring him to orgasm. The characteristic lost rhythm of his hips was a dead giveaway as much as the slowing of his hand bobbing your head that you were on the right track.

When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.

“My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.

One hand on the back of your head pushing your head down onto him quicker as he was just at the cusp, the other where your jaw and ear met lifting you off him slightly slower to languish in the drag of your tongue over his cock.

You hummed an affirmative and braced yourself, a thick and salty shot of his release hitting the back of your throat with force. You took him down to the base again, swallowing around his head as much as his size allowed. He hissed, hips rising off the bed. You didn’t stop swallowing despite his whines and spasms, shoulders jerking up and off the pillows as he folded in over your head. The silence of the night interrupted by his overstimulated gasps spilling out around you.

Only when he stilled, body no longer twitching as he lied back down, did you let up.

He was almost scared to look at you. Flashes of a long forgotten face of disgust behind his eyes.

“Alastor?” Your voice was so sweet, more so than usual. He dared to look.

A smile that reached your eyes. No mask, no grimace, no disappointment.

“You okay, doll?” You took his left hand and kissed his palm before setting your cheek against it. “Was it too much? Uncomfortable?”

What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.

“We don’t have to do that ever again, okay?” You kissed his hand again, misreading his face entirely. Odd, you were usually so keen to the finer details of his mood. But when it came to sex, to his preferences, you knew you were better left always giving him room to ask for more, not less. Never make him need to ask you to stop. Never push past an absolute certainty of comfort, or put him in a position where he felt obligated to continue.

You’d decided some time ago you’d close your legs for good if it meant sharing a blanket with him. Your list of needs were rearranged the moment he pushed you into that bathroom, not that had known at the time or that you’d admit it was so early in your meeting.

Alastor smiled, finally, “No, it wasn’t.” While it wasn’t his favorite way to spend his time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was obviously inexperienced or embarrassingly quick. His eyes did that thing again, flitting around your face like he was reading a difficult but intriguing book.

You moved your body up to rest flush against his chest with your own. Silk slip cool on his heated skin. “I am very grateful you let me indulge myself, but,” a kiss to his chest before smiling back at him, your feet kicking up and knocking the blanket off, “Don’t push yourself, baby.” Your finger traced little circles on his chest.

He sat up. Slightly caught off guard, you did too. From the shadows of his bed you couldn’t see it before, but as he kissed you in an almost frantic succession of lips crashing into yours you pulled away to look him in the eyes. Blown out pupils shining back at you again. He stole another kiss, you not noticing his hand coming to his lap.

“I want to go at your pace now.” When he attempted another kiss, a pleasure soaked sigh stopped him. Your eyes traveled to the busy hand between you both.

“You can ride me, I’ve been selfish these last few times.” his hand was stroking himself, trying to get as hard as he could without getting too close to cumming a second time.

Even in the dim light he could see your face clearly, partly why he didn’t remove his glasses yet. You looked genuinely concerned. His free hand’s index finger and thumb came out almost like an upside down finger gun, a promise, “I want to feel you come undone around me.” You hooked your index with his, thumbs touching. It almost made a heart. “You can use me as you need, I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

You’d accepted him but he wanted more. He wanted you to need him. He’d be happy with just a night of neediness, really. Just confirmation he could keep you happy.

A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.

Unkindly beautiful. He was upsettingly ethereal beneath you, skin a glow in a way that rivaled the sun’s own bloom. His soft hair uncharacteristically messy, glasses fallen just a bit down his nose. The usually confident and sure Alastor was demure and needy between your legs. You’d never seen him look like that, even the first time was a different sight.

How lucky you were to get to devour him twice in one evening. You lifted yourself up and kept your eyes glued to his face as you pulled aside your panties and filled yourself with him.

A moment of pause when you bottomed out, letting you both adjust. A confession of his own, “I’ve never let anyone on top before.”

You tightened around him, “You skipped straight to eating women out in bathrooms?”

A quick correction by him, “Not women. A Woman.”

You tightened again, knees riding up over his stomach. “Well, I hope you’ll trust me with every first.”

Fighting the urge to bruise your ass on his hips, you took a gentle pace at first, knowing he’d just orgasmed minutes before. He was still sensitive, evident from his hisses and jerky movements with every bounce. His mouth was hanging open again with already heavy and loud breaths, eyes glued to watching himself disappear into your cunt.

Leaning down, you switched to rolling your hips front and back and kissing at his clavicle. You worked up his neck, pausing to whisper an ask, “Does it hurt?” into the bruised skin of this throat. He said it was fine so you continued kisses up and then along his jaw. When his mouth reached for yours you dodged and kissed his nose. Another whiny whimper, hands rubbing down your hips and running over the place your skin met your stockings. His fingers ran up the straps of garters and back down again.

You kissed his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. He looked at you like you were hurting him, like it pained him to not have your mouth on his. A moan pulled his expression from torture to ecstasy.

Alastor felt good, his ego unfurling in his chest with the sight of your pleasure. It was as if he were being worshiped and in worship of you at the same time. Your kisses were an offering, his moans a prayer.

No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed.

Much like small beds, affection was made comfortable by your presence. He wanted to be possessed by you. He felt he would be stronger somehow if he was wholly yours.

Resting your forehead on his in the most loving act you’d ever offered a man during sex, you used his shoulders as a sturdy support to resume riding him in earnest. A workout you actually enjoyed, lifting your weight off of him and making a controlled descent to impale yourself again and again on his heated member. His swollen tip was sliding past your g-spot but it wasn’t hitting it as hard as you needed. But before you could move, you felt Alastor bring his arms up.

He used his hands like you’d taught him and grabbed the back of your head to bring you into a kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth.

You broke the kiss to sit back up, giving your thighs a burn as you tried to create enough friction to build up your orgasm.

Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach.

You didn’t want to blink and risk missing a single reaction. The soft slap of your ass on his lap became more obscene as you got wetter. Slippery was the best word for it, Alastor trying to compare your mouth to the feeling of your twitching cunt. As you moaned his name and clenched around him, he knew he liked this more. Your mouth was free to make pretty noises for him. Sounds that made him twitch in you.

How you could be so soft and yet gripping him so tightly he couldn’t understand. He began to realize how little he understood about any of it. Normally not actually paying attention this much during sex, but he let deeper thoughts go and just focused on the way you looked riding him.

A moment shared between you both as your eyes caught again; static shock without the contact.

“Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.

You needed a new angle, but there was no way in hell you’d turn around. Leaning back with both hands on his thighs, you could angle his cock head to graze that bundle of nerves his hands worked so well in the past. Heavy breaths morphed into deep moans as you worked him into that spot repeatedly.

When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.

Quiet, so softly you gasped and mewled as you quickly raised the tension in your lower belly. No more lifting, no energy or focus to offer, just grinding against him until you felt that snap of pressure and your muscles rolled around his cock. Alastor was quick to watch your face as he recognized the spasms making his thighs twitch again.

As your orgasm waned, the pleasure dying, you felt a clarity you couldn’t before. You looked down over Alastor, and found yourself worried. A small sense of dissatisfaction. You couldn’t put your finger on it so you let it go. Learning about Alastor carnally would take time, and you needed to allow that to happen naturally.

He was the one who suggested it, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as before. Even with his orgasm, you felt like you’d gotten more from the interaction. And you weren’t sure what that something was or what that meant. The feeling in the air the first time wasn’t there now, and you weren’t sure why. You planted a kiss on his lips, trying to feel if anything was missing. His lips moved against yours and his hands rubbed at your thighs. He felt just like Alastor.

“Feel good, my dear?” He didn’t open his eyes, instead kissing you before you could reply. You hummed into his mouth.

“I feel good anytime I’m near you.”

The right answer.

His smile widened, “That’s all I want.”

With a deep sigh, you unseated yourself and lied back in your spot. Your slip was sticking to your skin in various places from sweat, it was uncomfortable but you were too tired to even ask him about showering. He took off his glasses and rolled to face you so you rolled too.

Lying there and looking at each other, Alastor’s eyes adjusted to the shadows to see your face. “I feel like…women often over-act during sex. You don’t though. Or you’re a great actress.”

You nodded, “Yeah I can see that. I definitely have. Also I’m a performer, professionally.”

A nervous smile spread on his face.

“I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.”

“Unfunny.” Alastor quoted you.

“No, I don’t do that with you.” Your hand touched at his, “Lots of other people though. I guess we feel like we have to make the guy feel like he’s doing well.” You hadn’t thought before speaking and suddenly worried you’d said something unattractive. There was a relaxation to the way you were talking with him that reminded you of being backstage at the theater.

“I have definitely been on the receiving end of that.” Alastor grimaced, “Feels like making someone a meal you don’t even like, just for them to pretend to eat it and hum loudly with every fake bite. Why push for sex and then just pretend.” Alastor mimed bringing a utensil to your mouth, “Here’s that fried catfish you love darling.”

“Lostsa reasons. And I hate catfish.”

He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you just jumped into the fear, “Did it bother you, when I said ‘lots of people’ just now?”

“Why would it?”

You reached out and touched his cheek, “Just checking. Tell me about your day. If I fall asleep it’s a compliment to your voice and not an insult.”

It had been a boring day, save for his worry about you seeing his home. He rambled about work as boringly as he could until he heard the soft and deep breathing of a sleeper. And then he told you about how he cleaned, and changed the bedding, about how he swept the porch and stared into his fridge.

When he ran out of details, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sound of your breathing was a new noise for his room. It was nice. His hand slid under the sheet until it found one of yours. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle and for him to fall asleep.

And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.

But the torment waited for him to awaken, a tinge of embarrassment washing over him from head to toe like a chill. Had he asked you to ride him? To use him? What the fuck was wrong with him? He was mortified, pulling the pillow over his face. He hadn’t even been drunk. He sounded like some horny teenager desperate to be touched. Not at all what he had been hoping to convey.

He managed to hide it well enough, through breakfast and to the patio where he could finally put his attention fully on something else.

“This is where I bring the bodies.” Alastor walked you to greenhouse doors. “There’s no one in there now. But,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I’ll never have you help with this part.”

You looked at each other, his eyes taking in the places where you’d been bruised before. Bruises he could still see in his head. Your eyes staring at the blooming purples of his neck. You hadn’t seen them before, his normal collar hiding them well enough. But he wasn’t headed to work yet, so you got see him in a clean white t-shirt tucked into his usual pants. Only he could make that look like a state of undress.

You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”

Alastor laughed, pulling the key he’d grabbed earlier from his pocket.

You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.

When the doors opened, you were surprised to see plants.

Not because they were in there, but that it was all you saw. Alastor walked past you and to the left, “Most people naturally turn right when they enter a room. Buys me a little time just in case someone comes in.” You followed him past long and tall shelves of various potted plants and flowers.

“And most people would consider a shed more suspicious than an all glass greenhouse. Nothing nefarious about glass. The plants help obscure the sights and the hard water takes care of the view from ground level.” He pointed up and over to the house, “You can see it perfectly well from the second floor.”

“Aren’t you worried about neighbors?” He turned right to step through some plants then stopped in front of a large metal table.

“Nearest neighbors are at least several acres away on all sides, we don’t interact.” His finger slid across the clean and shining surface, “Dismember, drain, back in the car to then disappear them far away from here.”

Your short heel sank down into the dirt, a memory of Tommy at better times taking your attention away from where you placed your weight.

“The ground soaks up the water and blood. Bugs take what I miss. And it stays pretty warm even in winter, so the ground stays soft.”

Morbid. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t morbid as your eyes sank to the soil beneath your feet. Turning around you looked for anything out of place. You saw gardening supplies like shears, axes, hand saws, tarps. Plants everywhere, pretty flowers and small trees. It was a very full but very normal greenhouse. Approaching the table you lowered yourself to look underneath. Empty clay pots, bags of dirt, seeds. Clean and dry.

“It looks like a functional greenhouse.”

“Exactly.”

“No I mean— it, not a single trace of,” you searched for a good word, “impropriety.” You’d heard that shouted at you before. “Even the plants are cared for. How much time do you spend keeping this room perfect? When do you sleep?”

His head tilted, “I don’t sleep much. So, I have time. The long nights are just the ones when I have someone in here.”

“I promise my praise is coming but first — Alastor.” You stood, “Ya know you could have just slept last night. Like, a full night's sleep. We didn’t have to stay up. That’s two nights already you barely slept. On top of…years? Of this?”

A suddenly nervous energy, Alastor’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away. Oh no, that was a first you hadn’t considered.

Had you been too harsh? Sounded too much like nagging wife? You felt like one.

“Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.

Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”

Ah. His fingers on his left hand intertwined with your right, eyes searching for something in the scratched grey blue of the workspace.

“I want to provide for all your needs.”

A tinge of fear again ran through him. He needed you to need him. So you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to see how he could give you everything.

You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy?

“You’re already giving me so many things I need. Phone calls in the morning and kisses after work. Respect for my job and myself as a human, not just a woman. Your voice when I’m falling asleep,” you cleared your throat now, too saccharine of a speech already, “Someone to lick the blood off my face. An alibi. That kinda stuff. Ya know?”

“I’m not joking.”

The muscles in your back locked. You gripped his hand, you could feel him staring at the side of your face but didn’t want to see what expression he had. Unfortunately he knew you too well already.

“Look at me.”

Your natural reaction to being given an order was to do the opposite. But you couldn’t muster the petulance. You finally turned to look back at him.

He’d never looked so serious. Eyes brighter in the sun than you’d remembered them being bore into yours. Locked, you were frozen in his stare.

A deer in the headlights.

He wasn’t studying your face this time, he was staring into. Not through you, no, you could feel his gaze being soaked into the back of your skull.

“I’m learning. Be patient with me? And you can tell me when I’m fucking up. I want it be our places in each other’s lives.”

“Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”

Arms snaked around your waist, forehead to forehead, his smile grew, small but still a welcomed sight as always, “Can I have that praise you mentioned earlier now?”

You nodded, listing all the brilliant ways he protected himself from detection. A long form good boy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Across the parish and downtown, a nervous woman fidgeted in a worn wooden chair. She had been woken up by a loud knock at her door when she was still sleeping off her late night.

“I thought this was all done with. Did you really need to drag me down here? Not a big fan of flat foots. You understand.”

He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”

“Well I mean,” her high pitched voice somehow creeped up into even higher an octave with her nerves, “We all had guesses but, no, never seen him fight with anyone except a dancer here and there. Mean right hook, that guy. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s dead.”

He perked up, “He hit on ya’ll?”

“Once in a blue moon. But he really let Autumn have it before he up and left. Never seen him that mad before. She was bruised up for like a week after.” She ashed her cigarette in the bowl on the table between them, “He wasn’t normally like that. Just when girls refused dates. And Autumn really wasn’t playing along, if ya know what I mean.”

Detective Brady leaned over the interrogation table, “What dates?”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl , (50)

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor #hazbin alastor #fanfiction #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel

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crowdsourcedgender · 4 months

Text

My zine, 'Label Coining as an Artform', is finally done! Transcript/Image ID underneath (warning: it's long). Printed version in a reblog.

[Image ID: A series of pages in a zine. The text is handwritten, and all figures described are simplified stick figures.

Page 1: ‘LABEL COINING as an ARTFORM in large text. Below is the multicolored MOGAI wheel, with three figures taking pieces of the colors and using them for art: sculpting, cutting a piece of paper, and painting. Below is ‘a MOGAI (& LIOM!) zine by Elliot/Hesper aka @ crowdsourcedgender on tumblr. Under the text are five pride flags: aro-spec, veldian, alterhuman, xenoman, and schooldoodlic.

Page 2: ‘Label Coining’ in large pink text. ‘(in this context) is the act of creating a word (and usually flag) for a certain experience!’. Next to this text is a figure filled in with pink with a speech bubble full of pink shapes, talking to someone using a cane holding out a hand and expressing a question mark. Below reads ‘generally a queer experience, but does often include or incorporate disability, neurodivergence etc.’ A figure asks ‘Why?’ and the text reads ‘I would say these are the ‘core tenets’:’. In a cloud next to this text is a blue and purple pride flag with purple text reading: ‘like this cool prosopagnosia flag I made!’.

The bottom half of the page is split into two columns: ‘Understanding’ and ‘Community’. The first column has a purple arm amputee explaining a purple rectangle to another purple person who is thinking ‘that’s me!!’. Next to them another purple person is explaining the same rectangle to a blank person, who has a purple-filled thought bubble with a white exclamation mark. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by question marks: ‘Labels help people understand what they are experiencing, and communicate this to others. It’s easier to explain something when it’s already been written down!” The second column has a purple person holding a purple umbrella. They are waving to a purple person in a wheelchair. A purple person is leading another one to the group. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by connected dots: ‘People can unite under a shared label whether this group is big or small! Whether for practical purposes (like advice) or just for fun, having people like you is nice.

Page 3: ‘And these are just as important as ever! But I’ve noticed what I like to call COINING for the sake of CREATION’. This last phrase is in large, dark and light blue text. Two sun symbols are on either side. Below is the text: ‘Vexillology is very clearly an artform, but label coining has become something more (not to mention that not all new labels have flags!). It’s composed of multiple skills has become more than the sum of its parts. Any art captures an experience, but label coining is much more explicit about it. And not just people’s experience of their identity! Part of the art of label coining is incorporating other concepts too, e.g. Schooldoodlic A gender related to doodling on school work papers and/or your homework. By spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr.’ The text about Schooldoodlic is small and light teal. Next to the text is its flag.

Page 4: ‘Elements of Label Coining’. The text on this page is separated into four green boxes.

‘Naming: Coming up with the actual word can be tricky. Generally, labels with lots of elements get more leeway with length. It’s important to check that a label isn’t already a word as well.’ Next to this text is more rough, dark green text reading ‘Premade suffixes + prefixes help! And latin (for some languages) as it’s possible to intuit meaning!’ Around the text is a few examples: ‘-vesil’ ‘-musica’ ‘an-’ ‘quoi-’

‘Flag making: Also known as vexillology, this is a pretty big deal. It’s also the most fun for me! You develop a really good sense of color from spending so much recoloring the same three stripes.’ Next to the text is 6 versions of the same pride flag, each with slightly different colors, with a 7th final version with a symbol.

‘Symbol making: Most flags don’t have symbols, but they’re good for groups of labels under a certain umbrella, or just if you have a really good idea.’ Next to this is rough, dark green text reading: ‘I drew three semirealistic flowers for a flag and ended up only using one’ with sad face. Under it is a drawing of a daisy, a pink coneflower, and lavender, which is circled.

‘Descriptions/formatting: Explanations can be artistic in their own right, and formatting is fun to mess with: many people have their own style. Make sure it’s accessible: add image IDs and plain text where applicable. There are a lot of good resources online!’ In dark green text is the phrase ‘Accessibility over Aesthetics’ with an image of a key on top and sparkles below.

Underneath the boxes in light green text is ‘Note: in the right context, any of these can be optional!’

Page 5: ‘If it wasn’t clear, I think this is AWESOME’. Awesome is in large text with yellow radiating lines. Underneath is ‘I’m a MOGAI coiner myself (generally) with about 65 coins at time of drawing. Using something I made, I wanted to demonstrate what a label coining might look like!’ Underneath is four versions of the same pride flag as well as a description, with ‘flag!’ ‘stripe meanings (I don’t normally do these)’ ‘symbol’ ‘name’ ‘pre-existing format’ and ‘experience’ labelled. The description reads ‘[Image ID was here] Human non-conforming (HNC). Human non-conforming (HNC, similar to gender non-conforming) is an umbrella label encompassing all identities and subcultures that somehow incorporate nonhuman elements in any way.’

Page 6: ‘The thing I love most about the label coining community is just that- the community! The way coiners and users interact, as well as how coiners can work together, is wonderful. There are 5 large words each with an associated doodle.

‘Requesting’: A figure leaning on forearm crutches has a speech bubble with yellow shapes exploding out of it. Another figure is taking shapes down from the bubble and forming it into a ball.

‘Collecting’: A figure is pulling a yellow cart with a large cloth bag labelled ‘LABELS’. They have stars in their eyes, and are looking at another person who is gesturing to a yellow rectangle.

‘Collaborating’: Two figures, one with orange speech and one with yellow speech and an AAC tablet are discussing, with many shapes and lines intermingling to make a fragmented rectangle.

‘Combining’: A figure in a grey hijab pulls down a lever. They are standing next to a large blender mixing orange and yellow liquids. On either side is bright yellow lightning.

‘Redesiging’: A small star with four radial lines coming out of it becomes more and more complex, indicated by black arrows.

Under the words is the text: ‘I’ve never participated, but there’s this amazing event called: COINFIGHT. Hosted by @ kiruliom on Tumblr. It’s inspired by artfight, and it involves coining labels for other people- but competitive-ish!’ Coinfight is in large, text with a crescent moon with stars at the top right corner, and a star at the bottom left.

Page 7: ‘I don’t think there’s anything like finding a label that finally fits you, or hearing that something you made did that for someone else.’ Under is a figure looking at an orange flower with light lines, then forming elements of the flower into a bubble, then showing an orange rectangle to another figure, with orange tendrils reaching towards them, forming the shape of a heart. Below is the text ‘There are a lot of things like pouring out your heart- or just having fun- while making or collecting label. I coin in the same mind I sketch and color and shade.’ On each side is a pen drawing an orange figure with a red shirt, and a tablet with an orange and red flag. Under this is ‘Label coining is an artform both like and unlike any other, and I’m proud to participate in it. I hope that if you want to, you can join me. And if that’s not your thing- thanks for reading!’ There is a drawing of a figure with dark grey wings holding up two fingers. Next is a ‘<2’ heart and ‘elliot’ as a signature. In smaller text next to these is ‘Thank you to the creators whose work is featured in this zine! Credit on the next page. Remember to keep this wonderful community and artform accessible to all!’

Page 8: ‘Credit’: This section has a pride flag next to each label. ‘Aromantic-spectum, @ theflagarchive on Tumblr. Turian, @ kenochoric on Tumblr. Schooldoodlic, @ spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr. Xenoman, @ ryanyflags on Tumblr. MOGAI symbol, Pride-Flags on DeviantArt. Alterhuman, @ vaestra on Tumblr. (the flag on pg. 4 is Wildflowergender). ‘About making this zine’: ‘I really, really regret handwriting this. Drawing over Helvetica Neue for so long might change my actual handwriting, [more rough:] which looks like this! According to Artstudio Pro, I took 14 hours! I barely planned this before starting, the color wheel theme and the people doodles. /End ID]

#mogai #microlabels #mogai coining #lgbtq #lgbtqia #zine #art zine #lgbtq zine #queer zine #label coining #queer vexillology #queer #queer community #long post #described #image described #image id #not coining

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eggluverz · 1 year

Text

STARS FADING BUT I LINGER ON, DEAR

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader; dan feng x gn!reader

CONTENT WARNINGS. torture and imprisonment but nothing graphic or in detail!!

WORD COUNT. 5,332

SUMMARY. dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?

SOF’S NOTE. *shoves this fic in everyone’s face* LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT MY BABY!! PLS LOVE IT AND TREASURE IT!!! CRADLE IT GENTLE IN UR HANDS!!!! okay on a more serious note ahdjkdkd thank u anon for this amazing request i absolutely adored writing this 🥺🫶 idk where all the flower symbolism and dreams came from bc ik its not the in req but yk what it spoke to me for this story so i rolled w it HDJSKD i hope y’all enjoy!! :>

“What are all those flowers for?” you giggled, watching as Dan Feng entered the room with a cart full of peonies in tow.

It looked a little ridiculous; the elegant and renowned Imbibitor Lunae wheeling around an absurd amount of white, pink, and red flowers. But Dan Feng never cared about pretenses when he was with you. He always felt comfortable enough to be himself, no matter how ridiculous it appeared.

As he approached, he held a small, blooming red peony out between his fingertips. “They’re for you, naturally.”

He brushed your hair aside and gently tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear, admiring how the deep red of the flower complimented your complexion.

“Beautiful.”

You looked down at your feet with a small chuckle before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”

“Thank you, my love,” said Dan Feng, his hand resting on your waist as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Do you like the flowers?”

You nodded, feeling the soft petals of the flower in your hair between your fingers as you stared at the bundles of peonies in the cart he brought in. Dan Feng walked over when he saw you staring and led you to each section of colors.

“These are pink—to show my affection for you.” He picked a flower and kissed the petals before bringing it to your mouth to reciprocate. You obliged with a giggle and he smiled and hid the scandalous flower in his sleeves. “These are white peonies, to let you know I’m always thinking of you.”

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the careful embroidery on the silken fabrics. “You’re always on my mind, too.”

“Good,” he jested. “As I should be.”

Without warning, he brought your body flush against his chest and captured your mouth with his own, softly tugging at your lower lip. You chased after his touch to give him a kiss of your own, but he soon pulled away with a teasing grin on his face.

You pouted. “Hey!”

“Patience, beloved,” said Dan Feng. “I still haven’t gotten to the last color.”

“Oh, my sincere apologies,” you said sarcastically, knowing he was the very reason he hadn’t finished his own speech. “Please, carry on.”

“Since you asked nicely.” He cupped your face and stroked the petals on the flower behind your ear. The sensation of his light fingers brushing against the soft flower petals tickled the skin around your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “This flower is a red peony, to symbolize just how passionate I am for you.” Dan Heng stared into your eyes before he spoke. “I hope you know how much I love you, truly.”

“I know,” you said, gaze not once meeting his. Your stomach tightened and your heart started beating faster as you placed his warm hand on your chest. “I love you, Dan Feng. Every part of my being is yours.”

“And mine, yours.”

Dan Feng took your hand in his, leading you into your bed chambers. You had never felt more loved and wanted than in this moment. But when you entered the room and looked up, the hand you were holding was no longer Dan Feng’s.

Instead, your hand was clutching an iron bar instead of your lover’s hand, shackled in chains on your wrists and ankles. Dan Feng was gone and you were stuck in here for eternity.

You cried out, body racking with helpless sobs. Every fiber of your being—mind, body, spirit—missed him so much. The worst part wasn’t the torture, the solitary confinement, the lack of access to basic human needs.

No, that was nothing.

Nothing compared to knowing you would never see Dan Feng again.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Dan Heng woke with a start, hair plastered to us forehead with sweat. His pillow and blanket were both strewn across the floor of the Archives and he found himself on his bed alone, a heavy pounding coming from the place where his heart should be. His heart hurt so much he wondered if it was even his.

He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to take a deep breath to calm himself down.

That was the third time this week Dan Heng had a dream like that.

Before, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to dream about your experiences with his past reincarnation. Dan Heng thought it was strange at first— Why is he dreaming of your memories rather than Dan Feng’s? But the Archives had no answer, so he was forced to accept the fact with mild curiosity as he grew accustomed to the untraditional visions that manifested as dreams that he has been having.

Still, the strange part wasn’t that he had dreams of you, the strange part was that recently, since the Astral Express left Luofu, Dan Heng has been getting bad dreams of you. Or, to be precise, he’s been experiencing bad memories you have gone through.

Dan Heng thought the torture was the worst of it. As cold blades cut against your warm skin, Dan Heng felt each push. Each puncture. Each drop of blood they drew from your veins. He woke up constantly in pain, checking his own body to be sure it wasn’t happening to him.

But he learned a new form of torture that came from the heart. The solitude and loneliness. The knowledge that the one you loved most has perished— Was forced to reincarnate and never see you again.

The pain on his body was temporary. But Dan Heng felt the ache in your soul every minute of every day.

He just doubted there was anything he could do to stop it.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Y/N,” came a quiet voice from outside the cell. “I came to check on you again.”

You looked up from your thin futon to meet Jing Yuan’s remorseful eyes. Your living conditions have been upgraded from those you’ve experienced for decades now. No longer were you in chains— You had access to a bath, and they even offered you books and enough food to sustain you. All while confined in a cell, of course.

Perhaps they no longer viewed you as a threat. Not that they should have ever viewed you as such in the first place. You didn’t understand why you were punished solely for being Dan Feng’s lover. You weren’t a warrior. You didn’t hold any position of power. You were a scholar and lover of books and plants. But you’re an accomplice, the Preceptors said as they mercilessly chained you up.

If you weren’t knocked into unconsciousness moments after, you would’ve spit at their faces as they took you away.

“Y/N…”

You snapped out of your thoughts, dragging your gaze to the man in front of your cell. Placing your book to the side, you smiled up at Jing Yuan. “Sorry about that. I was a little out of it there.”

Jing Yuan frowned and your heart moved, feeling the depth of his sadness. “No need to apologize. Tell me, how have you been?”

“Good, I have to say,” you said, sitting up straight on your bed. “I’m almost finished with the book you gave me last time.”

He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Is something the matter?” you asked as you stood and walked over to him, offering a hand of comfort through the iron bars.

Jing Yuan took it, giving you a gentle squeeze before dropped your hand. The rush of human contact, despite how brief it was, coursed through you. It’s been so long since you felt the touch of another person.

“Dan Heng and his friends left the Xianzhou Luofu,” he said solemnly.

Your eyes shut as you let your forehead press against the cool metal of your cell. A tear fell down your cheek but a smile remained on your face. “That’s… That is good. He should be free from this place. Dan Heng is happiest that way, correct?”

“That is how it seems,” Jing Yuan sighed. He held back his words for a moment, hesitant. But as he looked at you, he could not longer keep it in. “Do you still think it was the right decision to not inform Dan Heng that you are here?”

You let out a quiet laugh, taking a seat on the floor and Jing Yuan soon followed suit. “What would he do with that information? What if he felt guilty—? That could hold him back.”

“Are you certain that is a choice for you to make?”

Sighing, you shook your head. It wasn’t your choice to make; it was Dan Heng’s. You knew that deep down inside. But what could you do when you were aware of Dan Heng’s aversion to his past—to any potential connection to Dan Feng? And thus, any connection to you?

You felt it, you dreamed about it. Dan Heng’s hatred for his past reincarnation. You mourned for them. Both Dan Feng and Dan Heng. For the former, you knew it must be hard having no connection to your reincarnation. Was his soul no longer tethered to this world? Perhaps he felt lost, even in the afterlife. For the latter, you did not blame any resentment that came from him. You knew all too well that being judged and punished based off the actions of another person was unjust. You wouldn’t wish it upon anybody.

And so, it made sense to you that Dan Heng wanted to accept his past for what it was, and then be free from it. You did not want to interfere with that. Especially not when he was so close to healing and making a good, happy life for himself.

And now, after Jing Yuan told you Dan Heng and his friends finished their adventures in the Xianzhou Luofu, excited to take on the rest of the galaxies, you thought that maybe you made the right choice. You would be happy enough here, alone in this prison, if you knew your beloved was free.

It was a decision you made yourself, for Dan Heng.

And it was one you hoped you wouldn’t regret.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Foolish! No!” Dan Heng thrashed in his sleep, wanting to reach out and shake you to your senses. He’s had terrible dream after terrible dream, but this was one he couldn’t simply let go of.

This one seemed more recent than any of the others. That was not a dream of a distant memory from long ago— No, the Astral Express that Jing Yuan spoke of in Dan Heng’s dream had only departed Xianzhou Luofu a few days ago now. That meant you were there, locked up right under his nose, for the entirety of his stay at the Luofu. And no one told him a thing.

Dan Heng had to control his fury. He felt hurt and betrayed, despite not having a true, personal connection with you himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng and, deep down, he recognized he didn’t have a claim to your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But the pain he felt from knowing you were there, and that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help you sooner, was something Dan Heng couldn’t shake.

He knew what he had to do.

Perhaps it was bold, impulsive, and maybe dismissive of their current plans, but he had to do it. Dan Heng took a deep breath, not waiting for the night to turn into day. He was going to ask Pom-Pom to please turn this damn train around.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Where are they?”

Much to no one’s surprise, Jing Yuan seemed to know exactly what Dan Heng was talking about. What else could be important enough for Dan Heng to barge into the Seat of Divine Foresight without a word of warning?

Jing Yuan quickly excused the meeting he was holding, biding a quick apology and saying they would reconvene shortly. Despite the newfound privacy, he still didn’t reveal anything to Dan Heng.

“Well, good afternoon to you as well, Dan Heng—”

“Stop. There’s no time for formalities right now.” Dan Heng folded his arms, hands clutched into tight fists by his sides. “Where are the Preceptors keeping them? And why the hell haven’t you done anything to help Y/N?”

With a heavy sigh, Jing Yuan took a seat in his chair, gesturing Dan Heng to sit across from him. A gesture Dan Heng pointedly ignored. He wasn’t here to sit down and take his time. He wanted to know where you were now so he could get you out of there. The torture, the poor treatment, the punishment for something you didn’t do... It wasn’t fair. He could hardly put up with it in his dreams. He wondered how it was possible for you to even be surviving all this time.

“It may surprise to you here,” Jing Yuan stated, voice low, “but as much influence I have over Xianzhou, the Preceptors unfortunately remain untouched by that.”

Dan Heng’s grip loosened, momentarily feeling guilty for assuming Jing Yuan did not try to help you in any way. From what his dreams could see, Jing Yuan was one of the only people who frequently visited you— Which was already more than he could say for himself.

His face hardened but he relented. “I’m sorry for suggesting such a thing.”

Jing Yuan gave him a half-smile through hooded eyes. “If you hold any recollection of Dan Feng’s time with them, I don’t blame you for having such a severe reaction. Y/N was—is…remarkable.”

“I shouldn’t know that myself,” said Dan Heng quietly. “Yet somehow, I know you’re right.”

He looked at the ground solemnly, suddenly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you after all. If the Cloud Knight General Jing Yuan couldn’t influence the Preceptors, what could he do?

He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Sure, Dan Heng wasn’t Jing Yuan, but he was the reincarnation of Dan Feng, the previous High Elder and Imbibitor Lunae. Dan Heng was the friend and ally of current High Elder Bailu. Dan Heng had the General backing him with a token of alliance. And Dan Heng would stop at nothing to free you from your shackles.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The process was more painstaking than Dan Heng had originally thought. After informing Jing Yuan of his plan to speak to Bailu, Dan Heng soon realized that conversing with her would be the easiest part.

The Dragon Lady was kind and had a good heart. She cared for other people and didn’t want to see anyone in pain. The difficult part came from feeling the lack of respect the Preceptors had for her. They treated her as more of a child than a High Elder, even withholding her title of Imbibitor Lunae until they deemed she was “of age.” But Dan Heng thought she had more sense and knowledge than all of the Preceptors combined.

It took negotiations, possible acts of coercion that broke many Vidyadhara laws, and even the threat of Dan Heng to follow in his past life’s footsteps and destroy the seal at Scalegorge Waterscape and many more places… But Dan Heng, along with the assistance and backing of Bailu and Jing Yuan, finally got the Preceptors to agree to release you without forcing a reincarnation.

You had suffered decades for a crime you had no hand in committing. The Preceptors were simply scared your love for Dan Feng would influence you to be a main headpiece in carrying out the rebellion against the Xianzhou Luofu—hence why those in charge had originally agreed to keep you here. But Jing Yuan was the residing general now, and with his army at his side, he was able to voice that he no longer viewed imprisonment on this land to be befitting of you as a solid conclusion. Bailu stated, as a complete bluff that anyone could have seen right through, that if you were not released immediately and given the opportunity to be reconnected with Dan Heng, she would no longer be as willing to repair any seals, should they be harmed in the future.

Somehow, instead of all three of them getting locked up for treason or whatever Vidyadhara laws they horribly crossed, they managed to succeed in their goal of winning your freedom. The Preceptors wrote in their official records the release date of prisoner Y/N and agreed to escort one of them to your cell.

Jing Yuan and Bailu, of course, both opted for Dan Heng to be the person who sees you first. But only after making him promise they would get to see you once you settled into your new life.

Dan Heng smiled, thanking them for their part in this operation. And when night came, he spoke his vow to you under the endless stars.

He would see you soon. And this time, he would never let anything bad happen to you again.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“More peonies?” you asked with a laugh, staring in awe at the field of flowers that were newly planted on the grounds of your estate. The bright colors of the petals flushed against the dark green of the leaves lined the gardens of your grand quarters.

Dan Feng nodded, the trimmings on his sleeves detailed with the faint embroidery of petals dancing around the wind. Your heart warmed when you saw it. It was fitting for him, such a beautiful and caring soul.

“I had them planted for you,” he said, gesturing at the arrangement around you. He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Because one cartful just wasn’t enough.”

You shook your head as you went around the rows of peonies, touching the petals in awe of the spring bloom in the air. The smell was sweet and the wind was cool, providing the right amount of breeze to offset the heat of the sun. First, you went to the patch of white peonies, then pink, then red. Then, you noticed a shade Dan Feng hadn’t given to you before.

“Yellow peonies?” you said curiously, Dan Feng following along as you explored the gardens fit for royalty. Because, he had said before, to him, you were.

“Indeed.” He plucked one from the bush, careful not to ruin the stem of the plant itself. Slowly, he brought it up against the light in the sky. “Yellow. As radiant as the sun.”

You stared up, shading your eyes as to not get blinded by the brightness. “It shines almost as brightly as you.”

Dan Feng made a noise of amusement at your words. “I should be the one saying that to you.”

“Perhaps you should speak faster,” you teased.

You walked over to him, placing your hand in his and leading him to a field of grass. When you got to an area you liked, you sat down on the floor, gesturing for him to follow suit. Dan Feng brushed at the fabric of his clothes once before happily obliging. As you sat there, you looked over at Dan Feng and studied the look of serenity on his face. His expression was calm, his eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly into a smile. In the hand that was not holding yours, he held the yellow peony still in hand.

“Does it symbolize anything? Like the others?”

He nodded. “Yellow peonies are rare to come by. Only the most renowned of breeders can craft one to the perfect shade.”

At his words, you looked back at the abundant row of yellow peonies dressing your land. You wondered how much effort he went through in searching for the perfect shade to gift you.

“They’re to symbolize my wishes for you,” stated Dan Feng, toying with the edge of a petal with his thumb. “I wish to bestow upon you luck and prosperity, for the rest of your life.”

“I think I’ve used all the luck I possibly could, finding someone like you,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder against his before leaning your head on it. Dan Feng breathed deeply, resting his head on top of yours. “And the only prosperity I wish for is to be prosperous in love. With you.”

He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against your body. “So, all your wishes of luck and prosperity have already come true? What need was there for me to gift you these flowers, then?”

You held your palm out, waiting for Dan Feng to place the yellow peony at its center. He gently laid it there, letting his fingers linger against your skin.

“I’m glad you gifted me these,” you reassured him. “Now, when I walk by, they will always serve as a reminder of the radiant peony right in front of me.”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The next morning, Dan Heng entered the dark corridor with a flower tucked into a hidden pocket of his outer garments.

While he was nervous about how you might react to him going against your wishes that you expressed to Jing Yuan, his determination to assure your freedom was more than enough to counteract that. If Dan Heng truly wanted to be freed of his past and atone for the wrongdoings of Dan Feng, he would need to make sure no one else was being punished for his actions.

He had helped repair the Ambrosial Arbor’s seal at Scalegeorge Waterscape, to atone for Dan Feng’s acts against the current High Elder and all of the Luofu Vidyadhara. Now, he would release you from decades of unjust punishment you suffered simply for being associated with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor,” one of the Preceptors said dryly, unlocking a cell. The hooded man could hardly hide the look of distaste on his face a before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’m sure you two must have plenty to catch up on. Leave here quickly before we change our minds.”

Dan Heng peered into the entrance, his gaze meeting your confused and alarmed face in an instant.

You looked between Dan Heng and the open cell, not a Preceptor in sight. “Is this a test?”

He shook his head, showing you the official pardon signed by Bailu, Jing Yuan, and a representative of the Preceptors. You held the document in your hands, reading its contents and feeling the seal to believe it’s legitimacy, before giving it back to him. He felt your hands tremble as you made brief contact with his and he was overcome with the urge to comfort you.

“This isn’t a test,” he promised, looking into your eyes in hopes you would see the truth in them. “You really are free from here.”

You let out an amused noise of disbelief, shaking your head. “Oh, Dan Heng… What did you do?”

He startled at the sound of his name coming from your lips. He was so accustomed to you only repeating Dan Feng over and over in his dreams that this felt almost refreshing.

“Rather, what did Jing Yuan do?” you corrected, laughing quietly as you stood up from your seated position. Your robes, once beautifully crafted, were worn and tattered. But the light in your eyes never waned. “I told him not to tell you.”

“He didn’t,” said Dan Heng. He considered his statement before adding, “I suppose eventually he did confirm it, but I was the one who confronted him about it.”

You raised a curious brow. “And how, pray tell, did you know about this…situation?”

“From my dreams.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. For once, you were speechless.

“I know it’s more normal to have dreams about your past reincarnation,” he stated, neatly folding the document in his hands before sliding it away into his pocket. “But, while I occasionally had dreams of Dan Feng’s life—bad ones normally, might I add—it’s been more common to have dreams of you.”

With a slow and shaky breath, you shut your eyes to think. “You’d had dreams of Dan Feng’s memories of me, do you mean?”

He shook his head. “No. They’re dreams of your memories. Some included your moments with Dan Feng from long ago, yes. Others were you in this prison. A recent one was of Jing Yuan visiting you and in it you said not to tell me about this.”

You chuckled helplessly. “What good did that do, after all?”

“Why didn’t you want me to know? Why didn’t you want me to help you?”

“It wasn’t that!” you protested, your eyes telling stories your words could not keep up with. You sighed. “Okay, it was.”

Dan Heng let out a sharp breath.

“However, it’s not for the reasons you might be thinking,” you corrected, arms folded over your chest. “I’ve come to accept my life being imprisoned here. It’s given me a lot of time to think and reflect. And, similar to you, I’ve occasionally had dreams of you, Dan Heng.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“They weren’t long nor were they frequent. But what I have gathered from them, scarce as they were, is you resent Dan Feng. You don’t want any ties to your past. And you’ve accomplished so much growth and closure, finally freeing yourself from all that burdened you. What good would it be to drag you back here and make you relive this?”

“You sound ridiculous.”

His words were harsh and it stopped you right in your tracks. You stared at him, eyes wide as they peered into his, but he couldn’t let that stop the words of logic from coming out of his mouth.

“You’re not a saint nor are you a martyr. You don’t have to try to be one. You’re a person, and for that you should be free in your own right. You’re a Vidyadhara, trapped and punished for actions that were not your own. I understand what you’ve been through— I’ve been there, too.” Dan Heng held his hand out to you from outside your prison cell, waiting for you to walk out and accept it. “Furthermore, you are a kind and loving soul, and you don’t deserve to spend a single moment in this place. Please, accept my help.”

Your cheeks were wet as you nodded your head. Slowly, you placed your cold, shaky hand in his. He felt your cool skin against his warm one and he enveloped your hands gently, brushing your knuckles with his thumb to share the heat in his body.

“I’ve wanted to get out of here so badly,” you admitted through silent tears. “I hated being confined and alone. I felt helpless. Pathetic.” He watched with a heavy heart as you wiped your own tears away. Could he reach out and do it for you instead? He chastised himself. As much as he wanted to, he had no right. “But you suffered so much in your past life—in this life even. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”

Dan Heng shook his head. “What brings me the most pain is knowing you were suffering for so long, and I didn’t help you.”

“How could you help when you didn’t know?” you reasoned with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for making Jing Yuan promise to never let you know.”

His eyes squeezed shut as a sharp pang ran through his heart. “Please. Please promise me you won’t do something like that again. If you need me, I want to be there for you. Always.”

You gaze widened at his words before you recollected yourself.

Dan Heng winced as he understood what he said. His mind and soul were confused. He knew he wasn’t Dan Feng, that this was the first moment he has ever had with you. But why does he feel like he’s known you forever?

After a few moments of silence, as if you were giving him time to amend what he said, you finally spoke. “Okay. I promise.”

He felt every muscle in his body relax at those words. He knew the promise you spoke was true to your heart. Dan Heng believed it with all his being and he let that console him.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

With one of your hands still in his, he slowly led you out of the corridor and up the stairs, away from your cold and dark prison.

“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” Dan Heng asked, hating himself for hoping your future plans would somehow include keeping in touch with him. “Will you…stay on the Luofu?”

Your body tensed as a shiver went down your spine. You shook your head fervently as your expression twisted into one of grief. Dan Heng’s heart stirred at the sight. He knew that feeling all too well, and it pained him knowing you had similar conflicts to go through. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do. I won’t stay here. At least not now.”

“I understand.”

You gave him a weak, but hopeful smile as he squeezed your hand softly.

“And you?” you wondered, looking at him with thoughtful and eyes as you awaited his response.

“I’m going to the Astral Express to continue on with our adventures,” he said with his lips upturned. “It’s a great place to call home, especially when you’ve lost the only place you had once called home.” He stared at you for a moment. “If you would like to join us—join me—I think you would very much enjoy it.”

You teared up at his offer. “Can you really just invite people like that?”

Dan Heng briefly thought of the girl they picked us as an icicle and the boy who they found with no knowledge of the past. He considered your situation. “Yes, we really can.”

The sunlight from outside finally started shining through the walkway, signaling that you were almost out as a freed person.

“Also,” he said, before he could forget, “I, myself, would want you to come join our crew, even if it’s only for a little while. You can stay for as long as you want, and leave whenever you want as well.”

Your ears perked up at that. “I like the sound of that. If the Astral Express will have me, then I would love to join.”

Dan Heng smiled as he patted the top of your head. Your body relaxed at his touch as you leaned into him, and he continued to hold onto you as you approached the exit. “No one will threaten your freedom ever again. That is my oath to you.”

You started at him, brows furrowed in determination. “And I vow the same to you. These new beginnings will bring only freedom and prosperity.”

At that word, Dan Heng suddenly remembered the small gift he brought for you. He blushed as he felt the soft petals of the peony in his large pocket.

“I have something for you,” he said, slowly stopping in his tracks. He turned towards you and you followed suit, tilting your head to the side in question. “It’s nothing big. But it’s a token. A reminder.”

He held out the peony in one hand, watching as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. Your mouth widened as you let out a noise of laughter, accepting his gift and holding it close to your chest.

“Thank you, Dan Heng,” you said, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I love it.”

It wasn’t yellow— He wasn’t the bright and radiant Dan Feng you knew and loved. It wasn’t red or pink, even. While he felt traces of love and attraction for you from his past memories, he knew in his heart that wasn’t really him developing those feelings for you.

Instead, it was a white peony.

You were always in his thoughts. It was both a blank slate, and a gentle reminder. He would never forget you, and as he got to experience life with you, who knew what dashes of color would be mixed in next with this pearly white.

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