#this dialogue is actually just so amusing to me

[johnslittlespoon]

Losing my mind over the “such a good little pup, aren’t you?” smut dialogue BUT- with CurtBuck >:)

Also “one more! Please!” from Curt bc I love a good needy Curt soooo much (and I can’t get over what you said the other day about Curt being whiny and needy compared to John’s feral and growly)

post life affirming sex, they all made it back from Algeria and John’s passed tf out from their previous fucking already and Curt’s so tired and already fucked out but he still has this current of energy running under his skin that he can’t help but squirm around until Gale questions him and he just lets out the sweetest little noise before begging and whining into Gale’s neck and Gale just manhandles Curt around so he can slide into him again, shushing him softly when he whimpers from the overstim of being fucked again but he needs it so bad

Anyway I’m actually insane and I desperately needed to entertain some CurtBuck thoughts soooo bad I just love the chemistry of those two together. John may be his partner in crime, but Gale is the steadying and grounding balance he needs too

- @mangokittokatsu

prompts | omg i'm so excited, i haven't written curtbuck outside of the throuple yet but i love them and they are so underrated, i'm so keen to explore their dynamic more <3 thank you for giving me an excuse to!! ~1k words of nsfw drabble below >:)

Curt shifts on the sex–ruffled, sweat–damp bed sheets, heart rate slowly returning to a normal pace but still antsy from the buzz rippling up and down his spine, rumbling uncomfortably just below the surface of his skin.

John’s snoring quietly behind him, one long leg tangled with Curt’s, always finding a way to stay connected even in rest. Gale’s still awake, fingers combing through his hair in a way that only serves to stoke the flames lapping at his insides rather than settle them down to warm embers the way the gentle touch usually does.

Curt turns his face further into the gap between him and Gale, pressing his forehead against his warm chest, pulling himself closer with the arm draped over Gale’s waist and crowding into his space. He’s so tired that it feels like a herculean effort just to bridge the few inches, and yet he can’t help but squirm when Gale’s other hand flattens itself against his back, his palm feeling like a branding iron against his too–hot, too–restless body.

He presses his hips forward, raising his chin enough to mouth at the base of Gale’s neck, tasting the salt of summer heat that’s gathered there, whining quietly. The rumble against his lips when Gale chuckles low in his throat has his hips twitching, fingertips pressing into Gale’s back.

“What’s wrong, doll?” The gravelly voice does nothing to aid the frenzied feeling creeping beneath his skin, and he nips at Gale in retaliation, rocking forward into a firm thigh again when the hand in his hair tightens ever so slightly.

“Need more,” Curt huffs out a breath when Gale pulls his head back so he can get a good look at him, eyes bleary as he watches the corner of Gale’s mouth twitch with amusement and something akin to hunger.

“You can barely keep your eyes open, baby,” he coos, on the verge of teasing, and a whimper slips out before Curt can stop it.

“Just one more,” he breathes out, eyelashes fluttering as he rolls his hips, pretty certain that he can get himself off on Gale’s thigh if he keeps holding his hair tight like that. “Please, Gale.”

That’s enough to get Gale to move, always weak to his begging, hand firm on his hip as he rolls him over and pulls his back flush against his chest like it’s effortless. It makes Curt’s head spin, mumbling a dazed “fuck” as Gale manhandles him how he wants him, his eyes falling on John’s sleeping form.

“What a needy thing,” Gale hums next to his ear, fingers pressing into Curt’s mouth, and Curt dutifully wets them with a moan, though he’s not sure he could’ve stopped himself from drooling had he tried. Gale pulls his fingers out and reaches between them, taking himself into his hand, slicking himself back up before dragging the head of his cock in a teasing up and down over his hole, and Curt trembles, fingers twisting in the bed sheets.

“Please,” he whines again, pushing his hips back, and Gale takes pity on him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before sliding back into where he’d filled Curt up no more than twenty minutes prior. Curt eyes snap shut, head tilting back, mouth falling open in a choked out cry, verging on the edge of too–sensitive but simultaneously feeling the restlessness be smothered.

Gale hushes him softly, moving his hand to flatten over Curt’s stomach as he pulls him close enough that he’s really only gently rocking his hips into him, a painfully slow back and forth of his cock, but so good and so full, pressing right up against where Curt’s still aching for it even after taking both of them until he had been shaking.

“Oh,” Curt sighs out, clenching around Gale’s cock and feeling his hips stutter forward into him, shuddering at the groan he receives. 

“This what you needed, baby?” Gale grazes his teeth just below his jaw, and Curt nods desperately, rocking back against him, whimpering. The hand on his stomach presses down, and hot tears jump to the corners of his eyes at the sharp–sweet pleasure the added pressure grants him, feeling each drag inside him so much more intensely.

“Gale,” he gasps, writhing against the warm body behind him, hands tightening in the sheets.

“Such a good little pup, aren’t you?” Gale murmurs against his neck, and that’s enough for Curt to reach down and take his own cock into his hand, hissing at the sensitivity but needing the friction so bad that he fights through it, feeling the pillow dampen against the side of his face as tears finally leak out.

Gale pulls back a little more to drive in harder each time, still keeping his movements slow and deep, making sure it’s not too much for him, lips soft where he mouths at the crook of his neck. He rumbles against Curt’s skin, chasing gentle nips with the press of his tongue and light enough suction to not leave lasting marks, panting quiet encouragement and praise when his thrusts start to get messy.

He feels Gale nudge at his hand, knocking it out of the way and replacing it with his own, and Curt moans at the way the heat engulfs him, rocking his hips up into Gale’s hand and back against his cock, over and over as the honey–hot feeling in his stomach builds. It doesn’t take long before all his muscles are tensing, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his strangled sob, shaking hard as he jerks between Gale’s hand and body, making a mess over his knuckles.

Curt nearly convulses when Gale pushes in deep and goes still, spilling into him once again, filling him with a heat that feels like it oozes through his entire body, melting his bones down to nothing and turning his brain to mush as he chants desperate whimpers of Gale’s name into the pillow.

Fresh tears well up from the almost painful friction when he slides out of him a minute later, and he whines in complaint, but Gale leans over him and kisses him better, slow and soft with a hand cupping his face to help him tilt it to the side.

“You’re unreal,” Gale murmurs against his lips, and Curt still flushes, even after everything else.

(+ Curt wakes up in the morning to John working him open on his fingers because they all can’t get enough of each other as is, let alone after the scare that was Algeria, and he’s sore and tired but god does he ever need to be full of him again, so they take it slow and gentle and Gale wakes up to the sight of Curt absolutely enveloped by John’s broad body, and fuck, there they all go again.) (p.s. @mangokittokatsu i'm gonna be so real, i only have to see your @ to know i'm about to be knocked back in my chair by whatever words you decide to grace my inbox with LMAOO i hope this is a solid thanks for all the brainrot you share <3)

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

Barty: what in the fucknuckles is this?

Regulus: (holding hands with James) he's my boyfriend, you intolerant shit.

Barty: (staring at James) whoa, pump the hate brakes fox and friends! i'm just surprised anyone would date you, especially pinkie pie from my little pony…

[akascow]

whats up i played pokemon violet for 12 straight hours today and i have barely progressed through the game bc i keep getting sidetracked on routes trying to find all the hidden dropped items

[digirainebow]

wow dating vace really is.............like that

[bloominstorm]

It’s actually crazy how Jujutsu kaisen keeps leveling up with each chapter

[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.” 

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day. 

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass. 

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg. 

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you. 

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy,  “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt.  “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.” 

☆ TOJI 

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further. 

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing  your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you. 

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy. 

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching. 

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it. 

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?” 

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?” 

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?” 

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto. 

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear. 

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun —  down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace. 

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy. 

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever. 

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him. 

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it. 

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

[y2kuromi]

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !

contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.

his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.

there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.

his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory

“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.

“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.

classic gojo-sensei.

“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.

gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”

yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation

"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"

"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”

“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together

“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.

“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"

"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"

"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"

"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"

"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.

"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.

"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"

"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"

you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.

"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"

"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.

"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"

"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"

"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"

"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"

"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”

"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”

“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully

“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”

you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end

"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"

"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you

“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you

"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”

“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space

“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”

“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”

“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”

“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”

he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.

"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer

"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions

 “i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"

"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"

it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down

"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved

you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.

he couldn’t help but feel out of place.

there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.

the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.

the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.

he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly

he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )

“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder

“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”

yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )

“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.

he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.

“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”

yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind

“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.

“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”

“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”

“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”

no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently

“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be

“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”

yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.

“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”

you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted

growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him

“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”

“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head

“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”

you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.

“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”

“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually

“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”

“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger

“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”

“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.

“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”

“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”

“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”

“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”

“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”

“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.

he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles

“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”

“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”

“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”

satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor

“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”

your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes

“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”

you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.

“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”

“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”

“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”

“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”

“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”

he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.

“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.

“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”

“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”

“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.

satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself

it would be you before everything. it was you before everything

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory

they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again

“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.

“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”

“like we did in our first year”

satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone

his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.

“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.

“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.

“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”

“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”

“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”

“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him

“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”

“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed

satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin

your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.

here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.

© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[hedgehog-moss]

I found a nice plant in a bog last year, like a reed with a tuft of very soft cotton at the top (bless you English, I just looked up "plant that grows in a bog and looks like cotton" and the English language replied "bog cotton, duh") (in French it's called linaigrette, which should be a small bird), and I was very charmed by the look of it and decided to try to pirate it so I would have some on my land. I plucked one fluffy reed and kept it on my windowsill so I wouldn't forget to return.

Of course, when I returned a few days later with a shovel and a bucket, I couldn't find the bog cotton again. Or the bog. It was a small swamp-y area in a very vast plateau with few landmarks, so it's possible I got turned around, but also, things tend to disappear around here sometimes, like the footpath that leads to the stream, only to reappear a few weeks later. I very much felt like I was in the correct location and the bog wasn't, but okay. Since I didn't trust myself to tell the normal reeds from the cotton-y ones in other seasons, I decided I'd come back around the same time next year.

I've had the linaigrette in my egg spiral in the kitchen this whole time as a memento, and I finally resumed my quest today. I left my car in the exact same spot where I'd left it the previous two times, just before the road gets squiggly for no apparent reason:

I climbed the hill and behind it were just miles and miles of estives (summer cow pastures) with sometimes a barn here and there with a mobile milking parlour. My plan was to follow every rivulet I came across, since I was looking for a watery area.

I picked a barn as a landmark to find my car again, and off we went.

Finding reeds wasn't difficult, but none of them had cotton tufts...

Pandolf was extremely aware that we were looking for something, but he wasn't sure what. Here he is digging in the mud with his paw, looking invested in this treasure hunt.

Sometimes he would stop with one paw poised in the air and his whole body pointed forwards like an English setter who just smelled a pheasant in a Heywood Hardy painting and it was always for cow herds. If I squinted and squinted I could be sure to find a cow on the horizon, the size of an ant—I think Pan was a bit disappointed when he realised I never followed up on the cows he smelled, and it probably wasn't cows we were looking for.

(zoom x400 in case you can't see this cow standing apart from her herd like a sentinel)

I tried to amuse him by giving him little challenges here and there, like climbing on big rocks because he likes rocks. He likes being congratulated even more, though, and if I didn't insist that he actually climb on the rock he would just sort of run towards it and push himself off of it like a swimmer doing a flip turn at the wall to run back to me even faster (for pats). (Had to turn off the sound in the video because the wind was loud, so I subtitled our dialogue)

Some challenges he politely declined to do. I like how despite being very eager to please he sometimes gives me very clear "no thank you"s when I tell him to do something that sounds absurd to him. We found a little waterfall that went down a slope like a mud toboggan and I said "down!" to tell him to slide down that thing and he was like

Our strategy of following water paid off, because look what we found eventually!!

I had a very hard time digging up one clump of reeds with some roots; the bog was holding on to its cotton for dear life. Every time I opened a hole in the mud with my shovel with a horrible sucking noise, the bog would immediately close on itself again with an even stronger vacuum. It also tried to eat my boots, repeatedly. When I moved around the reeds I was trying to steal I had to take my foot out of my boot, stand on one leg like a heron and put the tip of my shovel under the sole of the boot to pry it up. But after maybe 20min of effort, the bog finally let go of one muddy clump of reeds in a loud, dejected SLURP and I was able to put it in my bucket. It was about 10x heavier than I expected so the walk back to my car was slow!

(One thing to keep in mind if you're going to wrestle a swamp for half an hour, is that you're going to end up looking and smelling like a swamp creature. I had to stop at the post office to send a parcel and I really regretted not doing it earlier. It's funny because the post office lady is always like "no, don't worry, come in!! <3" when you show up on rainy days apologising for your muddy shoes, but when I arrived today and asked her from the entrance if I should just throw my parcel at her rather than go in, with my socks making a pitiful plop-plop sound in my boots as I walked, and mud freckles all over my face from aggressive shovelling, and overall looking like a gravedigger, she took one look at me and went "... yes, throw it.")

The good news is, I didn't get lost returning from the swamp to my car, and had no trouble finding my barn-landmark again, and there were new animals there, a nice mule with a retinue of small ponies.

She was friendly at first but then soured on me when I refused to let her sniff and maybe taste the reeds I'd had so much trouble digging up, and then she wouldn't let me approach her ponies.

One of the ponies approached Pandolf, and I told him to stand still—we've been working on "reste là !" (stay there) for a while and it's hard because he's so friendly and exuberant, so I was very proud of him when he stood there frozen as a marble statue, waiting for the pony to come closer. The pony ended up stopping at a prudent distance and stretching his neck out to try and sniff Pandolf, it was very cute.

That's the end of the quest for bog cotton! Here it is now, transplanted to the swamp-y part of my pasture, I hope it'll like it here.

[mysacredmuse]

reader: female anatomy, feminine descriptors (lady) + she/her pronouns

cw/tw: nsfw - mdni!, playing poker in stripping and one sexual exchange (he wants to creampie you, but bets in a kiss LOL), a bit of cocky! aventurine, aventurine and reader are "friends", reader is a loser 💔, dirty talk, table sex, rough sex, aventurine edges both of you, creampie

there is lots of dialogue, it's a mixture of bickering/playfulness & flirtiness I suppose

word count: 4.6k

dividers by @/enchanthings :)

note: tbh, in the part where the reader asks is that the only way he gets ladies naked, I had to hold myself back so hard not to write "not only ladies" LOL, but either way, I hope you enjoy it! :)

• Aventurine • Poker play •

Aventurine proposed a game of poker to you. At first, you were denying, aware that gambling with him would not be beneficial for you. 

"Come on, I won't go rough on you." he states in a playful tone, taking the cards out of the box. You scoff as you sit down, deciding to humor him for a round or two since there wasn't really anything better to do at an empty casino.

"Easily persuaded..that's what I like to see." he gives you a sly smile as he shuffles the cards. 

"Simply bored, so I will amuse you for a round." you say with a slight boredom in your tone, leaning back into your chair as you wait for him to deal. 

"My friend, no one ever stops at one round." he states in a serious tone as he deals both of you a hand of five cards. You check yours, evidently dissatisfied as you didn't even get a pair. He chuckles but remains silent for a few moments.

"How many do you wish to change?" he finally asks, slightly tilting his head.

"All five." you say seriously, earning another chuckle of his.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, so I will give you four." he says in a playful tone as you choose which cards to exchange. Your situation doesn't get much better, but at least you got a pair of kings.

"You won't be changing any?" you ask curiously as you reposition the cards in your hand to satisfy your taste.

"I told you I won't be rough.." he pauses for a second before he lays out his hand.

"..but it's also quite unnecessary when you have a straight flush." he lets out a soft laugh as he sees your semi-annoyed expression.

"Good job cheater." you roll your eyes as you show your cards, two kings standing weakly against his hand.

"No need for such hostility, we can just try again." he says in a satisfied tone as he takes the cards back, quickly shuffling them in an oddly professional way. 

"I said I will amuse you for one round only." you say in a firmer tone, crossing your arms as you watch him shuffle. Aventurine gives you a cat-like gaze as he puts the cards aside for a moment. He swiftly adds the chips, placing 20 thousand credits on the table afterwards. Your expression grows confused, even a bit shocked as he does it like it's nothing.

"Perhaps if we bet on this, your motivation will go up. What do you say?" he gives you a soft smile as he picks up and continues shuffling the cards.

"I say that you are insane. I don't have that kind of money to throw around!" you state in a louder tone, expression still quite puzzled. Aventurine just laughs at your reactions, clearly enjoying them.

"Ah, friend, let's not worry about such trivial matters here. All that actually matters is the game itself." he speaks calmly as he deals the cards again - five to both.

"It will matter tomorrow when I won't be able to get myself a bottle of water!" you express dramatically, but your words did make sense. 

"Why are you immediately assuming that you will lose?" he tilts his head, semi-amusement adoring his features.

"You know why!" you state loudly, feeling borderline offended that he would even ask as he could probably buy you just by selling the watch on his wrist.

He laughs. 

"I do know why, yes, but I told you already, didn't I? I won't go rough on you. Unless, of course, you want me to." he chuckles, sly gaze fixating on yours.

"We are still talking about poker, right?" you raise your eyebrow at him, slightly leaning forward as you check your cards.

"If that's what you want, then yes." he nods with a soft smile on his face before he checks his own cards.

"What else would I be talking about?" he continues after a moment of silence, making you slightly nervous. You ignore his question as the nervousness gets replaced by annoyance. Your cards suck. Again!

"Give me four cards again, please." you say in an almost defeated tone, sliding the four awful cards you had back to him. He wants to laugh, but he contains himself before he speaks up.

"You need to place a bet first." 

You look at him with a shocked expression.

"Rules of the casino, friend! The dealer never loses." he chuckles, giving you a small wink as he taps the table, urging you to place your money.

"How fitting…" you squint your eyes at him as your lips turn downwards. You take out 5 thousand credits from your bag, placing the tiny stash next to his finger.

"Is this enough?" 

"Sure is. For now, at least." he gives you a soft smile as he puts your money in the middle, the stake now being 25 thousand. He switches your four cards for new ones as he changes only one of his.

"Hey, hey! You said you need to put money first!" you point your finger at him and he gives you a puzzled expression in return for a moment. 

"Does a dealer get no privileges?" he points out and you slightly shrink in your seat, but your face remains pouty.

"Fine, I did say I won't go rough on you after all. I see your five-" he can't help but chuckle which makes your face grow offended.

"-..and raise you fifteen." he adds, slowly pushing the money to the small chunk in the middle. You scoff as he keeps laughing at your reactions. Your hand isn't strong, but it isn't that weak either. Your first full house of the night!

Aventurine just watches you with amusement for a couple of moments.

"So, do you want to raise me as you seem confident or do you prefer to show your cards now?" he tilts his head as he repositions cards in his own hand.

"Uh...I can raise you five more!" you say proudly as you reach for your bag.

"You need to raise me twenty thousand." he states calmly.

"Twenty?!" your eyes widen as your voice grows panicked, quickly returning money back in the bag.

"Nevermind." you quickly follow, simply showing him your cards.

He watches you with an entertained expression as he lays out his, only to show you nothing. He has one strong card.

Your eyes glow with pride as you quickly scoop the money closer to you.

"You could've won much more only if you had more confidence." he clicks his tongue as he takes the cards, shuffling them again.

"How was I supposed to know that?" you question in a semi-disinterested tone, just happy that you won something.

"You couldn't know, but that's the thrill of the game my friend! Loosen up and learn to risk sometimes." he says with a tone that seemed to be almost hiding something as he deals both of you cards again. He casually places 100 thousand credits, in two stacks of 50 thousand. Your eyes widen in disbelief as you swallow nervously.

"Now, you need to place at least 20 thousand." he tells you in a calm manner and you do as told.

Next few rounds go surprisingly well for you and you find yourself more thrilled to play. Aventurine was right. You actually find this quite fun - even more so when you win. However, as if the devil felt your pride and confidence, you begin to lose very soon. Aventurine keeps getting the strongest suits, leaving your side of the table dry of any money. You wish to wipe the cocky smile off of his face every time he wins, growing more irritated. After a while, Aventurine proposes a new deal.

"How about we raise the stakes?" he asks with amusement on his face, slightly leaning back into his chair.

You raise an eyebrow at him, already aware where this is going.

"Is that your only way of getting ladies naked?" you chuckle as you think about his proposition. 

"Not really. Being awfully good looking with an amazing taste in fashion often does the job." he states with a soft cockiness in his tone.

"Humbleness and humility as well, I am sure." you raise your eyebrows at him as your gaze falls on the empty spot where money used to be, right next to you.

"You would be correct, friend." he gives you a small nod, voice playful.

"But do not be so judgemental. After losing all of your money, is there really anything else you could offer me?"

You give him a hesitant gaze, remaining silent.

"Now of course, you could also back out, nothing is stopping you from doing so. Choice is yours." he says in a semi-sensual tone, sly gaze firmly fixated on yours.

"Isn't a bartender still here?" you ask as you play with your fingers a bit to calm down the nerves. It was a fun offer, but you also didn't celebrate the fact that you weren't alone.

"Mm, you really don't like risks, do you?" he asks without expecting you to answer him as he takes a look at his watch.

"He should be leaving fairly soon. I will play slowly, so you don't lose all your clothes before he leaves." he reassures you, oddly enough, so you just nod.

"Who says that I will be the one losing all the clothes?" you reply with a little smile, earning a chuckle from Aventurine.

"Oh? You feel more confident now, I like that." he says in a lower tone as he slowly shuffles the cards, just like he promised. You eagerly wait for him to deal, for unknown reason feeling excited about possibly getting it back to him.

"Although, before we start, may I ruin a little fun moment of mine I just had?"

"Go on."

"You are aware that it wasn't me who proposed this type of game...right?"

You blink a few times, recalling the conversation in your head.

"You were implying it. What else is there to play besides strip poker?" you tilt your head as you cross your arms over your chest.

"You do realize that I work for IPC? There are a lot of games to play and lots of debt to make, if one wishes to." 

"Whatever! Don't flatter yourself thinking that I wanted to see you naked."

"Not what I was aiming at." he chuckles as he finally deals the cards, his presence becoming heavier.

"No switching cards anymore. We both get only one shot each time, so - lay them out whenever you are ready." he says in a cunning tone, eyelids lowering as he waits for you.

You gulp, laying out your trashy hand with only one ace.

"And here I thought we would take it slow. Or are you that eager to lose?" he asks in a low tone, laying out his card one by one, keeping you in suspense.

However, he also only has one strong card - ace of hearts.

"Now what..?" you ask a bit confused as your gaze jumps between your cards and his.

"Nothing. We play until one wins. Should I speed it up this time or do you still want me to go slow?" he tilts his head as he takes the cards, keeping them in his hand.

"Slow." you nod as you notice that the bartender still hasn't left.

Aventurine just smiles as he shuffles the cards slowly, silence filling up the room with a layer of intriguing heaviness between the two of you.

He finally deals the cards and you check yours, finally getting a better hand - three of a kind. Nothing to be secure in, but it's also not the worst scenario.

"Whenever you are ready." he states as he leans back comfortably in his chair. 

Sudden interruption occurs, the bartender's raspy voice breaking the silence.

"I will be closing up soon, so-"

"Put it on my name. I will pay for renting the casino for the rest of the night. We are still playing." Aventurine speaks confidently, not batting an eye at him, gaze fixated on you.

"O-oh..okay. But it seems like you stripped her from everything already." the bartender replies in an empathetic tone as you give him a forced smile.

"Not quite yet. You can also leave early, I won't tell your boss." Aventurine finally looks at the man, winking at him. The bartender just utters a few words of gratitude as he quickly goes back to type Aventurine's bill and pack his things.

"Go on now. I took care of that as well." he smiles at you, tapping the table with his index finger.

You swallow again, slowly laying out your cards. Aventurine throws his almost immediately after you, winning with a full house. You click your tongue, hesitantly looking up at him as the bartender waves goodbye before he leaves. You wave back, slowly turning back to Aventurine who just gives you a knowing gaze.

"You can start with the shirt...or do you need my help with that as well?" he tilts his head, lustful eyes gazing up and down at you. You shake your head as you take a deep breath, slowly unbuttoning your shirt as you silently hope to win the next round. You place your shirt on the chair next to you, turning back to face Aventurine. He keeps eyeing you, eyebrows slightly rising upon seeing your bra.

"Fancy. Are you sure you didn't put it on just for me?" he lets out a mellow chuckle as he takes cards again, shuffling them a bit faster than before.

"You wish." you roll your eyes at him, slightly readjusting yourself in the chair.

"Perhaps I do." he confirms nonchalantly as he deals the cards, letting the meaning of his words flow between the two of you. You don't reply, but a dim wave of warmth forms beneath the skin of your cheeks.

You check your cards, still not satisfied as you get three of a kind once again. You want to attack him with a statement that he didn't shuffle the cards properly, but that would be a lie as you watched him do it.

He doesn't say anything this time, just shows you his cards - royal flush. You bite down on your bottom lip as you shamefully show your weaker hand. With a heavy gaze of his, you stand up, quickly losing your pants without uttering the word.

Another round plays out and you lose again. Time to pick between your bra and your panties.

"You can still back out if you want to." he says with an inviting tone, slowly leaning over the table.

"I don't want to."

There is something eager, impatient and borderline lustful as he gazes into you. For some, yet many reasons that makes your tummy curl on the inside, sending hot waves through your body. You swiftly unclip your bra, letting it slide down your shoulders as you expose yourself to him.

His gaze follows the bra that falls down, swiftly turning back up as he admires your tits. You put your bra next to your shirt, slightly squirming in your seat as a soft wave of shyness washes over you. 

"This is quite a show from you." he says in a mixed tone of teasing and softer neediness as he swiftly begins shuffling the cards again.

"Do you still wish to continue?" he challenges, but also makes sure at the same time. You nod, a soft sound of confirmation vibrating out of your throat. Your gaze falls on the window of his shirt that exposes a tiny portion of his chest, something inside of you desiring for him to take it off. Thoughts bubble up in your head as he deals the cards, giving you a much better hand this time. It's not the best, but it is a straight flush. So almost the best! You quickly lay them out, excited for the win at hand.

"Almost." Aventurine says bluntly as he quickly slides his cards over yours. To your misfortune, he had another royal flush. You let out a dissatisfied sigh, eyebrows twitching as you remain still for a moment. Aventurine keeps silent, waiting for your next choice. You slowly stand up, barely looking at his direction as you hook your thumbs between your hips and panties.

"Down." he orders you in a slightly quieter tone for the first time during this night. You finally gaze at his face, his eyes intense as he waits for you. You give him a soft smile as you slide your thumbs out of your panties, covering your boobs as you cross your arms over your chest, slightly hugging yourself.

"Do it yourself, Mr winner. This is the prize you were hoping for, no?" you reply in a semi-teasing tone, earning a moment of stillness from Aventurine. He slowly stands up, walking towards you just as slowly. You feel your lower tummy burn in desire as he finally reaches you, body close to yours. You slowly move back until you hit the edge of the table and Aventurine's body follows, inch away from yours. He slowly kneels down in front of you, head looking up as his gaze fixates on yours.

He sneaks his index fingers between your panties and hips, slowly rolling them down as his face remains close, awfully close, to your pussy, tip of his nose not even an inch away. He gently brushes his hands over your thighs, knees, calves and then finally ankles as his gaze still remains firmly on yours. You step out of your panties, kicking them to the side as you rest your palms on the table behind you, exposing your boobs to him again.

He slowly straightness himself, soft palms sliding over the sides of your body in the process, lastly resting on your hips.

"Is this what you were hoping for?" you ask through a mellow whisper, tilting your head at him.

"I could ask you the same question." he answers in a low tone, leaning his face closer to yours.

"Perhaps I did." you smile, gently hooking your index finger underneath the small belt that was holding his collar. Your lips ghost over his, legs slightly spreading. He slowly moves his hands down, sneaking them on the backside of your thighs and swiftly lifting you up on the table.

You spread your legs around his hips as your faces remain close to each other. You slowly move your hands down, undoing his zipper and the button of his pants, giving him a sly look. He doesn't stop you as you slowly slide them down his hips, enjoying the outline of his hard cock on his boxers. As you start sliding his boxers down, he speaks up.

"One last bet. If you kiss me first, I get to cum inside of you tonight."

"And if you lose?"

"Then I will become your fucktoy for as long as you want me to, anytime you want me to."

"One night versus forever..you're quite generous with your offer."

He slowly aligns his cock with your leaking entrance, sliding it up and down over your clit and inner lips, earning a shaky whimper of yours.

"It's a win for me either way."

"And if I never use you?"

"I still get to cum inside of you this one time."

"Ah, so that's your idea of never being on the losing end?" 

"Indeed." he confirms as he swiftly slides his cock inside of you, earning a sharp moan of yours and a shaky moan of his. Your hands fall behind you, keeping you up as Aventurine leans his face close to yours, parted lips ghosting over yours. He starts thrusting his hips slowly, letting the tip of his cock remain inside of you for a moment before he slowly slides his full length back inside.

You let out a chain of soft moans, legs squeezing his hips as your gazes fixate on one another, mellow filthy sounds filling up the small space between both of your lips. His hands fall on your hips, pulling you a bit closer to him as he narrows his hips, long and slow thrusts reaching deeper inside of you. You let out a sharper moan as his cock stimulates your sweet spots so agonizingly, shivers going throughout your body.

Aventurine lets out shaky moans, trying to contain them without much success. You let your tongue slide over his bottom lip as it didn't really count as kissing, teasing him further as his hot breath warms up your lips. He clicks his tongue, a choked and shaky moan following as he speaks.

"I did say I won't be rough with you, but that was only while we were playing." he states rather quickly and immediately speeds up his hips, thrusting into you at a much quicker pace, making your eyes roll back from suddenness. You let out a few guttural whines; his balls slapping the underside of your pussy in a sharp manner, making it feel like a pleasurable bruising.

He keeps the angle of his hips, reaching deepest spots of you as your head falls back, lips parting away from his. He leans into your exposed neck, licking a quick stripe over your pulse area, trembling moans spreading hot air over your skin. He messily starts kissing your neck making you clench around his length, but almost forcefully unclenching as his cock slides over your sensitive spots at a brutal pace.

His pelvic area slightly stimulates your clit each time it kisses yours, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Aventurine reaches behind your ear, trailing to it in soft kisses and licks, leaving lustful and whorish sounds to ring in your ear right after.

You barely clench around him a few more times as his cock keeps sliding in and out of you at a vigorous pace. He moves his hand away from your hip and slides it on the back of your head, moving it close to him as he leans away from your ear, straightening it for you as he keeps slamming his hips into yours. You let out a messy moan, lips almost falling onto his as your mind grows hazy and needier. You quickly catch yourself this time, but Aventurine notices, cock twitching slightly inside of you.

"Fuck, you are so eager I might start thinking you were losing on purpose." he lets his words out in a mixture of steadiness and soft whimpers as his cock keeps slidinh in and out of your overly leaking cunt even faster now. Your eyes roll down as one of your hands grip his shoulder, unsteady vision focusing on the way his cock moves in and out of you.

Aventurine follows your motion, foreheads resting against one another as the two of you watch his cock getting out to the tip and then buried deep inside your cunt. Your pussy convulses at the sight in front of you as his cock twitches in response, desperate moans slipping past your lips.

Your grip on his shoulder becomes tight as his hand pulls your head back by your hair at its previous place, the other hand sliding between your bodies to reach your clit. As soon as you feel his fingers resting on your thigh while only his thumb circles over your clit, a pathetic whine escapes your throat. Aventurine leans his face closer, lips practically on yours, but he doesn't kiss you.

You claw at the table behind you as your hand falls off his shoulder to his chest, fingernails desperately digging into the tiny portion of skin accessible. He lets out shakier moans than before, swallowing half of them which results in a few whines as his pace doesn't slow down, cock relentlessly stimulating all of your sensitive spots while his thumb draws gentler circles over your clit.

Your body begins to twitch, waves of heat overwhelming you as your orgasm slowly builds up. You tighten your legs around his hips, narrowing your own his to meet his thrusts deeper inside. Your gaze is low and needy just like his, pretty eyes not leaving yours once.

"Please don't-" you choke out as a sharp moan interrupts you, legs shaking and losing their grip on his hips. You press your lips into his, but do not kiss him. He speeds up the pace of his thumb on your clit, squeezing louder moans out of you as your back slightly arch. His grip on your hair tightens as his balls keep bruising the underside of your leaking cunt.

"Kiss me if you want to cum." he whispers breathlessly, his own release edging closer as he feels your warm pussy cream and tighten around him.

"Nuh-uh.." you barely shake your head, tensing your lower tummy in order to reach orgasm faster. Aventurine feels the motion of your muscles as it makes your cunt tighten around him even more, giving you one last sharp and heavy thrusts, forcing a sharp whine out of your throat before he slows his hips down a lot. You groan in displeasure, eagerly trying to move your own hips in order to gain more friction. Your breaths mix up together and you brush your lips over his, fingernails digging harder into his chest.

He speeds up the movement of his thumb as his hips move at agonizingly slow pace, quickly building up your orgasm once more. His lips wrap around your bottom one, still not fully kissing you as a soft moan escapes his throat. His cock twitches inside of your cunt as a sharp moan escapes your lungs, first waves of orgasm washing over you.

He quickly moves his thumb away from your clit, all the build up in your lower tummy subsiding as he edges the both of you. He barely thrusts his cock out of you, making your mind hazy as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You let your lips wrap around his upper lip, tongue finally hesitantly sliding over it.

"Just let me cum, please." you whimper out, mindlessly greedy for release, pride disappearing as you let yourself lose the bet once more.

On cue, Aventurine immediately speeds up the pace of his hips, vigorously pounding into you as his thumb returns to draw slow circles over your clit. He chuckles into the kiss as you press your lips harder into his, his grip on your hair tightening. Your tongues swiftly find each other, eagerly sliding over one another, sending trembles down your body as you keep moaning into the kiss.

Overwhelming heat washes over you, heavily convulsing in your lower tummy as your orgasm quickly builds up again, breaking through in small waves at first. Aventurine lets out a sharp moan into your mouth as his cock twitches more, pressing deeper into your g-spot and sending you over the edge.

His release immediately follows, a thick whip of cum sending tingles up your spine as it melts inside of your needy cunt at the peak of your release. Your kiss becomes heavy and lustful, breathless as it's filled with whorish moans, both of you ride out your orgasms. Aventurine doesn't slow down for quite some time, hips and his thumb both working at a fast pace to prolong your orgasm and this very moment for as long as possible. 

Next morning, a sudden sound of two messages makes your phone light up, a small buzz startling you.

2 messages.

Click.

Aventurine transferred 2 million credits to your account. Click to open.

Aventurine [08:08 am]: My other offer still remains on the table. Do with that information what you wish.

[musical-shit-show]

electric touch

Pairing: Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Sinner!Reader

Inspiration: My own silly idea but also Prompts #70 (“are you actually trying to seduce me right now?”) and #86 (“they don’t need to know.”) from Prompt List 2

Warnings: Cursing, mutual pining, Adam is still kind of an asshole (duh), suggestive dialogue

Word Count: 1,363

Author’s Note: I just really wanted the mental picture of Adam in some rocker eyeliner, so I wrote it. That’s about it, just being very normal about this character :3 If anyone has seen any fanart of Adam with eyeliner, my DMs are always open. As always check out my Masterlist, About Me page, or Prompt Lists if you’d like to submit an ask! Happy reading! :)

“What’s that?”

You scoffed at the fallen angel lounging lazily on your bed, watching you intently as you went through your makeup routine.

You had just grabbed an eyeliner pencil, and were in the middle of smudging the smokey kohl onto your eyelids when Adam interrupted you.

“What, you didn’t have eyeliner in heaven?” you smirked, looking at him through the mirror on your vanity. Even in such a relaxed state, he still kept that stupid mask on.

He shook his head, “Why would we need makeup in a place where everyone’s fuckin’ perfect and poised 24/7?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you accepted the answer. Made sense, anyways. From what you heard from Charlie, Heaven probably looked like a dream come true. Why would anyone need to alter their appearance in a place like that?

Turning back to the task at hand, you jumped slightly when Adam appeared behind you, his face incredibly close to your own. He was studying you intently, his digital eyes flickering over your expression.

“Ugh, what is with you, dude?”

His eyes narrowed, lips forming into a tight line. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was…thinking. Which is not an activity Adam seemed to engage in, especially before speaking.

“It looks…good.” he muttered, feeling his face getting warm under his mask, “I guess I never really noticed it before.” You quirked an eyebrow, a small smile flashing across your face.

Ever since he turned up on the hotel’s doorstep practically begging for help from the Princess of Hell, Adam had decided to latch himself on to you. For what reason, you didn’t know; it didn’t particularly matter since any attempts to rid yourself of him were completely fruitless.

He was definitely an asshole, but he could be mildly amusing from time to time.

“Do you…do you want me to put some on you?”

He blinked stupidly. “I’m not gay, toots,” he deadpanned, “Despite what that little spider twink downstairs thinks—”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” you cut in, trying to stifle your laughter at his remark, “But makeup transcends sexuality.” He scoffed, letting his insecurity wash over him.

Adam would never admit it you or Charlie or anyone else at the hotel, but being here made him feel less alone than he ever felt in Heaven.

Up there, he was practically ignored, even treated as a nuisance by the seraphim and other higher ups. Which he was, but that was beside the point.

He was already ashamed of himself for asking Lucifer’s brat of all people for help, but he had nowhere else to turn and felt completely alone. Except when he was with you.

Although you were a sinner too, you didn’t judge him as harshly as the others. Hell, you were able to stand up to him, even reason with him when he was particularly crabby.

It scared him, though he’d never let you know that. He’d rather get stabbed through the chest again than be vulnerable.

Standing up, you gestured to the edge of the bed, encouraging Adam to sit down again. He hesitated for a moment, not willing to trust you fully.

“You know,” you drawled, “some of the greatest rockers on Earth wear eyeliner. And looks sexy as fuck doing it.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity.

“And,” you added, “A lot of ladies are actually into it. I swear.” He blew a raspberry in dismissal, still not fully convinced. He decided to humor you anyway; he had nothing better to do.

“Ugh, fine,” he whined, “You’re lucky I’m bored, sugartits.” He plopped onto your bed, faltering slightly when removing his mask; you rarely saw him without it, and were struck by how, well, human he looked.

You couldn’t dwell on his appearance for long; you needed entertainment for the evening and didn’t want to wait for him to change his mind. With the pencil in hand, you swiftly went to work on his minor makeover.

You were close. Dangerously close, Adam thought to himself. So close that he was almost pissed that his eyes were closed so he couldn’t get a good look down your shirt.

He could feel your soft breath on his face, the almost imperceptible noises you were making while concentrating intently on shaping his new look. He almost flinched when your hand gripped the side of his face gently, tilting it up slightly to give you a better angle to complete your work.

Your fingers tingled on his skin, silence filling the space in a way that was new to Adam; he usually reveled in sucking the air out of any room he was in, but he was now focused so keenly on the steadiness of your breathing and the looming presence of your body so, so close to his.

Fuck.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, and for the first time in his very long existence, Adam actually tried to hide his arousal from you. “Almost done,” you muttered, examining the canvas of his eyelids closely.

You couldn’t help but notice that even though he was fallen, Adam still retained rather…angelic features. Perfect skin, tousled brown hair, annoyingly long eyelashes. You tried to not gaze at him for too long, but with his eyes currently closed, you couldn’t help but stare.

“Ah, okay, open up,” you said, feeling a quiver arise in your throat. He blinked, bright gold eyes accentuated perfectly by the dark liner.

Satan help you. He looked hot.

You realized you were still leaning incredibly close to his face, and before you could stumble backwards, Adam flashed a mischievous smile. “Damn babe, I must look pretty good if you’re giving me ‘fuck me’ eyes.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Shhhh,” he stood up, pressing his finger to your lips. Your attraction to him was quickly replaced with annoyance, even with him looking like a rockstar you might’ve had a crush on when you were still living.

You pushed his hand away, your stomach twisting. Leave it to Adam to ruin an actual good moment between the two of you.

“Are you actually trying to seduce me right now?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Not in the slightest,” you lied. He brushed past you, considering his reflection in your vanity mirror.

“Fuck, I do look good,” he mused, getting an eyeful of himself. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. His gaze flitted to you, studying your form. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious about how good this dick would look in that pretty little mouth of yours?

You crossed your arms over your chest, doing your best to act disgusted at that mental picture. “Only in your dreams,” you muttered, hoping the heat traveling up your neck wasn’t visible. Adam stood up to face you again, his mouth curving into a wicked smile. “They don’t need to know,” he purred, his eyes flicking towards the door, referencing the other residents of the hotel. “It can be our little secret.”

His fingers brushed your waist delicately, and you felt your heartbeat quicken as he squeezed the side of your body. He looked hungry, possessive, the dark pigment around his eyes only enhancing the intensity of his glare.

You gulped. You had to come up with an excuse, and quick.

“Charlie’s expecting me,” you croaked, pulling away from his grasp. You cursed yourself for the ache you felt between your legs, “Something about more trust exercises—” you headed toward the door, but Adam grabbed your arm.

He didn’t seem annoyed that you were brushing off his advances; he knew that it was now just a matter of time.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he teased, his grip red hot against your skin, “But teach me how to do this fun little makeup on myself sometime, hm? I like seeing you all hot and bothered.”

You swung open your door, flashing him the finger as you slammed it behind you. It didn’t matter that you were leaving him in your room unattended; you knew you’d be seeing him there later anyways.

Something told you he was going to keep the makeup on until you returned.

------

thanks for reading! as always, like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed :)

[charcubed]

Don / Timeline Mobius' kids are coded as Lokis.

This does NOT mean Mobius = father figure.

More so that Mobius' previous wife was probably a mischievous scamp, and... jet-skis also relate to Mobius' true passions.

What will HE want?

Let me explain :)

First: look at the kids.

Kevin = Sylvie.

That's a minute man ^

Just like Sylvie burnt in season 1, episode 1 – and everything she used (the lamp and the reset charges) was stolen, just like Kevin's matches.

And the other kid?

Sean = Loki.

"Don" gets him to help in the same way Mobius got Loki to help catch Sylvie in season 1.

This tactic...

...is the same as this tactic.

The exact same method, on full display! Very amusing to me personally.

Aside from the fact that his kids are, hilariously, little hellions and perhaps take after their wayward mother (who maybe ran away in typical Loki fashion, if she wasn't snapped by Thanos? 👀)… and that that gave Mobius the unique ability to know how to "handle" Lokis, even subconsciously…

We see towards the end of the episode that "Don" cares about his kids, yes; of COURSE he cares about them! They need him!

But.

Being a parent reallyyyy isn't his passion. The work (in this case, jet-skis) is his ACTUAL passion.

He drops everything kid-related to talk about jet-skis... and also drops everything kid-related to talk to Loki.

These 2 things explicitly criss-cross. Deliberately in the context of Don trying to get Loki to fill the role of his new romantic partner.

Plus, y'know, there's the fact that Don immediately flirts with Loki at the store by telling him his entire schedule and announcing to him that he's single. Which is fucking amazing.

Yeah, that's the actual dialogue.

So, I'll spell it all out:

Don's kids are mischievous scamps, and his wife probably is/was too.

Loki is Mobius' ideal partner (which we already knew, but this is another fun detail to enjoy!) – and Loki will actually STAY. He'll REMAIN, if you will.

Mobius' ideal life involves focusing on work that he's passionate about, not being a parent. And it's OKAY for him to want that! Especially in the context of his TVA life. He has purpose-driven work; he's not "abandoning" his kids. And he's helping others.

Loki's conversation with Sylvie is a whole other post to unpack, but: what's wrong with wanting something?

Or: what's wrong with wanting SOMEONE?

It's about "who."

If you're very lucky... the where/when/why AND "who" align.

At the TVA, for Mobius, they do and they will.

Oh, that's lovely.

Yeah.

------

I write lots of Loki meta on Twitter, whoops! I haven't crossposted all of my ep5 meta yet because I'm offline this weekend, but you can find my tweets collected here.

My stuff on tumblr is under the tag "chars loki posts."

[ratcandy]

A Very Rough Analysis of Bug Beauty Standards in Hallownest

thank you @arty-cakes u've enabled me to have thought processes and now we're in a hell of our own making

Bear with me. Ok. This started because of discussion over Zote's horns. I'm gonna be combining both in-game dialogue and some irl bug things to come up with some vague understanding for how, potentially, bug beauty may be perceived in Hallownest. Because there is quite a FEW possibilities here, and I wanna dissect what I can.

And of course in my humble opinion there are no real, true Standards. Bugs are only full of love and there is no real concept of "ugliness." Because I said so. ...And, I mean, this would actually have some ground, because Hallownest is a conglomerate of a LOT of different bug species!! Truly, for there to be any one consensus wouldn't make a lot of sense, because everyone's going to have different standards Per Species.

(I implore everyone here to look up stalk-eyed flies (<LINK GOES TO PICTURE OF A BUG). To some bugs out there, that is, in fact, the pinnacle of sexy. So the idea of true beauty could REALLY, REALLY VARY.)

But hey. I'm having fun. So take my hand. Let's analyze nothing for no reason. this is a very long post. THERE IS ALSO ONE (1) PICTURE OF IRL BUG IN HERE; ITSE BEETLES. Be aware!

So, first of all.

These are sexy. This is considered sexy by bug standards. Or at the very least by Bretta and Godseeker's standards respectively. The words used to describe GPZ are "gorgeous" and "beautiful" while, as everyone knows, Flukemarm is "alluring."

So what this tells me right off the bat is that bugs seem to value Big and Round. The larger the body mass, the more attractive that bug is. Godseeker even refers to her real-world form, which looks like this,

with this dialogue:

"...And this? Our form swells? Large? Nay. Immense. Majestic. Hibernation, so long forced upon Us, yet the shell that results is strong... So strong! Thine gaze is adoring. Ye must think Us Godly. Amusing, foolish. But thou art faced with enormity and beauty, true..."

"Linger and gaze. Linger and gaze on Our magnificent shell. Our overpowering beauty!"

So like. I've at least a little reason to believe that Big and Large = Conventionally Attractive in some manner when it comes to these bugs.

To be fair, the Godseeker isn't from Hallownest. So her opinions on this matter might not align with everyone else's. But Bretta, who we have no reason to believe isn't a Hallownest native, does envision a sexyman Zote to be just as Big and Large.

Oh, and, of course:

This big guy is literally Called a "gorgeous husk." We could assume it's the golden shine that allows this one to be Gorgeous, OR we could assume it's the roundness. I, for one, think it's the Roundness.

HOWEVER, there is some possible contradictions to his idea. For one, the Gluttonous husk,

Is referred to as having a "grotesque shape" by the Hunter. Now, the grotesque-ness may be due to overconsumption (as is mentioned in the same entry), thus causing a bloated, unnatural shape that we can't totally see due to the artstyle/lack of reference. But it is worth Mentioning.

Also, of course, Salubra seems to think Ghost is quite a Fine Specimen, despite Ghost being far from Large or as Round:

"You're even more the attractive bug, clad in all those wonderful, sparkling things. I may have nothing more to give, but you must come back and visit from time to time. Such a dashing figure frequenting my store. I bet the whole village is jealous. Mmm hmm!"

"...Dear dear, I really must hold it together, must appear calm, but this creature... is just divine..."

"It's rare enough that someone enters my store, but even rarer to meet one so striking! Those impressive horns! That fierce weapon. The air of mystery! Ooooh. It's enough to make me swoon."

It's VERY possible a lot of Salubra's thoughts on this matter are due to charms, though shdgKJSDHG. A lot of her thoughts are specifically connected to the charms, thinking Ghost looks dashing with those charms on, etc.

But interestingly, she does mention Ghost's horns as "impressive," which brings up a whole other slew of questions on what "average" would be for horns. And since this whole thing initially started as a discussion on Zote's horns, well. Now I'm just wondering!!

Because in Bretta's sexyman version of Zote, she doesn't give him symmetrical horns. Sure, in a meta way, you could argue that's just a way to make sure GPZ is recognizable as a version of Zote. BUT!!!! When I was talkin earlier, I was speculating an idea where symmetry could be conventionally attractive in some way, and asymmetry could be generally unappealing. So it's interesting that a potentially unattractive quality would be kept on the Sexyman version. I suppose if Zote told Bretta he lost his horn in some grand battle, or whatever, of COURSE she wouldn't get rid of his epic battle scar. But at the same time, if he DIDN'T say that, then she just chose to keep it..... perhaps assuming it was a scar herself, or perhaps Bretta just doesn't take symmetry into account as a Beauty Thing. I dunno! Many possibilities there.

And if Ghost's little baby horns are impressive, then... Good lird, what do we make of the Hollow Knight then, right? Or hell, even Hornet!

I'm not sure if we wanna use that as a True scale for Horn standard. Especially especially seeing as Ghost isn't even physically mature, as far as we're aware (the Hollow Knight is specifically mentioned as "fully grown Vessel" in the Hunter's Journal, so). After all, it is ALSO very possible that Salubra was just Saying things as a means to convince you to buy stuff.

So for now let's abandon Salubra's thoughts. Let's go elsewhere.

In IRL bug talk, horns are generally a means for mate selection and/or competition with rivals. Usually these two things go hand-in-hand (competition is For Mates, I mean. or other resources).

after all, how are you gonna toss a guy off a tree if you don't got horn.

So it's not out of the question to think that horns on the Hallownest bugs would have some sort of Meaning. Especially since we see a LOT of bugs with varying horn sizes/shapes. And if we want to say every face we see is actually a mask, then that's even more telling! Because then horns are specifically being added to masks for one reason or another.

So that makes me Really wonder.

like this is obnoxious. what do you need all that horn for. Those don't even look practical for battling with. Granted, the shape of the Pale King's "crown" looks VERY similar to the mouth of the Wyrm corpse, so it's possible he just Kept that shape as his crown rather than intend for it to be horns.

But STILL. How do you think the bugs of Hallownest felt about this thing? Like that's so many horns. If he's meant to look like a "common bug," how to those Common Bugs feel about all those horns. Like sir that's excessive. We don't have all those. The most any one common bug has is three, iirc. So like. Huh.

Or would More Horn = more attractive? I'm uncertain. PK might not be all that conventionally attractive anyway. Given the lack of Large and Round going on. He is, in fact, small and pointy. So who's to say.

Anyway. Drop the horn talk for now. I want to go back to Bretta.

Bretta forms crushes on Ghost and Zote. But I don't think she's attracted their actual honest-to-Wyrm appearances. She creates idealized versions of her crushes and seems to only tangentially connect them to the real person, given... well. GPZ looks like that, and Zote does NOT look like that.

In her thoughts, she considers Zote "beautiful." In the first diary entry, she calls Ghost "beautiful." But she also writes Ghost as "standing tall," while Ghost is anything but tall, and. Yes. Again. GPZ. And in her last set of thoughts about Zote, she seems to only then see him as "smaller, tattered and stained." At some point, she seems to stop seeing a real Figure, and only sees an idolized, fake version of that Figure.

So I don't think she sees either Ghost or Zote as physically attractive on their own. More the idea of what they "could" be.

Does that all make sense? God I sure hope so. I have another Bretta thing to mention, though.

In one of the Zoteling Hunter's Journal entries, aka a snippet from Bretta's zote fanfiction, we've got this:

""That lowly map-maker's wife? Hah! My Queen, how could you compare yourself to her? In the face of your intoxicating beauty, all other females are merely dust!" The Grey Prince trembled with anger and indignation... and love."

So. That tells us Bretta sees Iselda as conventionally attractive in some way. Or, at the very least, feels a need to compare herself to Iselda to the point of writing about it in her fanfiction. So let's look at Iselda.

The only thing we can say for certain about Iselda that follows with anything we've spat out so far is that Iselda, while not Large in a GPZ way, is very TALL. To the point where Elderbug has a whole thing of dialogue talking about how tall Iselda is:

"She's a tall bug, the wife. I told them to take a larger house, especially given they're all empty, but they liked the look of that one. The way she has to bend just to get through the door...I wouldn't put up with it myself."

So we do have the Large-in-a-Way thing going. And for all we know, since she used to be a warrior, she could also have SICK muscles. She could pick me up and throw me, I think. And round... I mean. Her, um. Well her abdomen, I suppose, is . Rather round. But she's otherwise not Round in the sense that Flukemarm is round, or the Gorgeous Husk is Round.

So who knows!!! Perhaps it's just the Largeness/Height that contributes to attractiveness as opposed to fat. But I choose to believe fat is a positive factor anyway. Because I can, so there.

IT'S TIME TO TALK ABOUT SMELLS.

ok, technically, I could end that there. Because I can't find TOO Much more dialogue talking about the Beauty of Bugkind. I've checked around, but... MMm. Not too much, really!

BUT. While not, perhaps, part of a bug's seen appearance... There does seem to also be a little variation on Smell opinions. Which could definitely add to conventional attractiveness, especially since irl bugs are CHOCK FULL of sexy smelly pheromones. looking at you bombykol ....

And by that I mean. Responses to the Defender's Crest.

Leg Eater thinks it's a "tasty" smell and will give you a discount for it. Tuk recognizes the smell as that of a "friend," and well also give you a discount for it (in that case, it's more likely she just recognizes it as Ogrim's smell as opposed to anything Attractive about it, lmao, but STILL). Of course, Ogrim thinks it's a "just" smell.

Elderbug and Lemm are the only ones I can think of that have blatantly negative responses (Elderbug says something about the air smelling horrid while Lemm. Um: "Urgh! What do you think you're doing, coming into my nice little shop stinking like that?! These relics have been through enough. They don't need you spreading your stench all over them! Crawl back to the Waterways or wherever you came from!").

The White Lady obviously also associates it with Ogrim, saying it brings "joyous memories."

SO you're probably thinking. Hey Clam, this is a strange side-tangent to go on. There's not too much about the Defender's Crest smell that really works with your theory. Two characters dislike it, and two others only like it because they associate it with Ogrim. So, what gives?

divine's dialogue:

"Ahhhh, that smell! So strong, so virile..."

do you know. What virile means?

i'm sorry . I do not think Team Cherry meant it this way. But GOD HELP ME if it isn't REALLY FUNNy,

OKAY. Okay. I think... I think I'm done for now. There isn't a hell of a lot more I can find within game to go off of. and when it comes to irl bugs, well. Again, it varies pretty heavily by species!! So much is possible here. Refer to stalk eyed flies again. Sometimes, to a bug, having super long eye stalks is what's hot. Other times, all it's about is if you can throw a guy off a tree.

Or you're a giant water bug and being a good dad is sexy. I'm not joking. It's called sexy dad hypothesis. And well. I'm not here to shame the dads of Hallownest, but...

So. Yes!!!! OKay. I said words. I wrote this all in one very quick sitting and now I'm wandering away. I have things to do that I am presently not doing because I'm analyzing bug beauty standards.

[ikinremu]

i would kill for a cillian murphy as robert fischer fic or neil lewis from watching the detectives from you! ur stuff is amazing <3

This is literally so sweet tysm ml <3 Apologies for how long this took! I honestly really enjoyed writing this so im definitely open to writing more neil stuff! Based on the ending, i might do a follow up? (if you guys want that please let me know!) Anyway, hope you enjoy! :)

Light Entertainment

Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: Oral (F receiving), P in V, Riding, Tit Sucking, Praise

"God," Neil snorted, shifting beside you, "This is fucking terrible." His eyes loosely exploring your choice of film, one he had rather immediately deemed 'shitty.'

And truthfully, you were inclined to agree.

"Alright alright, bit extreme." You chastised, "I couldn't find anything I actually wanted to watch so I just picked something.. random."

You admitted as you studied the terrible old tape play out on screen, sighing as old-timey voices completely butchered their lines.

"You'd rather pick something you hadn't even heard of than let me pick?" Neil's head snapped round, face painted with severe offence.

"Absolutely." You chortled, beyond shameless. "I wasn't missing out on the rare occasion you agree to let me pick."

"Yeah well, remind me to never do that again." He exhaled heavily, grinning far more enthusiastically than you'd have liked.

You tossed a light, warning smack to his arm, his amusement only expanding, "Sorry, sorry!"

"Now," You huffed, pointedly making a gesture of crossing your arms across your chest, "If you don't mind, I'd like to watch this piece of cinema without your snarky, shithead blabbering. Thank you."

"Oh, would you?" Neil scoffed, "You're seriously enjoying this?"

"Yes, it's.." You struggled helplessly for a follow up, watching as the tv screen rolled more abhorrent dialogue between characters with void personalities. Honestly, you couldn't name a single one. "It's.. very entertaining."

He chuckled to himself, shifting ever so slightly nearer, "Right, right.." His warm, curious hands drifting under your woven blanket, getting dangerously closer to the heat between your thighs as he surpassed your skirt, "So you wouldn't.. prefer this?"

Your breath caught in your throat, words halted as a tender fingertip pressed against your clit.

You slipped a sweet, soft whimper as Neil began tracing supple circles round your clit through the dampening fabric of your underwear, filling your stomach with flutters. It was blatantly clear by the look on his face that his enjoyment was just as intense as yours.

It was a relief to be granted a new focus, your stubbornness to the film growing tiring. You couldn't help but revel in his touch, allowing your eyelids to flicker shut.

Your skin prickled at the familiar sound of his low chuckle, "No no, you keep those eyes open. I wouldn't want you to miss a single second."

Your eyes snapped open once more, and although they couldn't seem to find a place to stop, Neil's were unbudgingly glued to your face, his agile fingertips unrelenting beneath the blanket.

Exhaling, you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter with each passing, torturously light stroke to your cunt.

Without drawing eye contact, Neil raised from his seat beside you, gradually lowering himself between your legs.

Your arousal only steepened as both skilful hands crept to the blankets very edge, flinging it from your lap.

Purposefully slowly, you parted your thighs, skirt riding further up as you did so. A low, hoarse groan fled Neil's lips as your soaked panties met his eyeline. The lustful noise sent a shiver coursing down your spine, a little dose of smugness dizzying your head.

"Oh, just look at you.." He praised, lacking any hesitation in directing himself to the waistband of your underwear and bringing them to a pool around your ankles.

Hands splayed over your ass, he tugged you in one swift, greedy motion towards his face. Your stomach flipped with anticipation at the jolt, and suddenly his head was buried between your thighs.

His tongue licked torturously slow, teasing stripes up your bare cunt, as though savouring your taste was all he craved. A satisfied smirk etched across Neil's lips, the warmth radiating against your sensitivity. A desperate moan spilled from your throat as his mouth finally breached your folds, sucking your clit between his lips so softly.

"Fuck.." You exhaled, breath quavering, legs trapping his head amidst their heat, wetness coating your inner thighs.

"Just soaking my tongue, aren't you?" He grumbled, taunting the swell of your clit with the tip of his tongue, playing shamelessly with your sensitivity. 

The tv blared as Neil's hunger spiked, working at a ferocious pace between your thighs, drawing endless pleasures from your mouth as your back arched, sodden cunt pressing right to his tongue. 

"So responsive, mm?" He chuckled once more, balmy breath stroking over your sensitivity as his tongue tormented your entrance, swirling flawlessly around as you quivered against his cheeks. 

"Neil.. I can't.." You practically whined, flooded with the desperation for his teasing to end. 

Leaning back from between your legs, Neil's bright, glinting eyes flitted up to your own as he swept the pad of his thumb over the slick pillow of his lower lip, sporting a mock frown. 

Slumping back against the couch, he wasted no time in adjusting you to straddle his lap, the prominence of his bulge digging into you from beneath his dark, strained jeans. With a sense of guidance, he began rocking your bared pussy against him, length twitching as the feel of you seeped through his clothes. 

Snaking one large, kind hand to cup your jaw, he stroked with a single thumb, feeling your flushed skin melting against his palm. His lips drifted to your neck, sucking rather harshly as his vacant hand was utilised, unbuckling his jeans as his hard, aching cock sprung free. Neil's focus jumped to scouting around his pocket, almost immediately yanking out a small, flimsy packet that he tore with the ease of one tiny rip.

A sweet, breathy laugh floated from your lips, "You always have one of those?"

He shot you a playful grin, fumbling slightly as he rolled the condom down onto himself. 

He angled the unattended, begging pulse of his tip with your drenched entrance, his eyes fluttering for just a moment as he lowered you onto him with a sharp groan. Your own eyes followed suit, lids temporarily screwing together as you revelled in the feeling of him stretching you. 

"Let me see those pretty tits." Neil groaned, ridding you - impressively fast - of the vast inconvenience of your top, tossing your bra right afterward.

"Mine." He inhaled, bringing his face to the plush of your naked chest, each hand cupping your breasts, the soft flesh pressed impossibly close to his face. Upon an eager, somewhat abrupt buck of his hips, a strained breath slipping your mouth as his length hit inside you. 

His sweet, plush lips engulfed one nipple, circling his tongue around the stiff peak before releasing it with a light 'pop'. 

"Please.." You mewled as his pelvis jerked against yours, throbbing gently between your soaked, clenched folds, perfectly filling your pussy with each deeper reaching thrust. 

"Feels good, huh baby?" He chuckled, still gently cupping your exposed breasts, a single, thin strand of hair falling before his eyes, coming looser as his fix trailed over to attend to your opposing, untouched nipple. 

You began bouncing softly to the rhythmic bucking of Neil's hips, developing your own pace as Neil allowed your rhythms to merge. Once again, he drew your pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue flicking at the tender, stiffened peak, his low groan vibrating against your chest as the pair of you quickened. 

"You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?" He whispered against the smooth, inflicted warmth of your breasts, giving them a greedy squeeze, his slender digits toying with your nipples, eyes wandering over your face as though nothing could compare to the sight before him. Shallow moans danced between the two of you, slick, sultry bodies rocking together against the couch cushions, "Is that such a bad thing?"

"I never said it was." Neil grinned, pulling your lips into a messy, rather impatient embrace, tongues winding against one and other with matched yearning.

Your walls contracted with each desperate bounce, feeling a hand glide from your chest to your fluttering pussy, taking zero hesitation in pressurising the drastic swell of your clit, features painted by a blatant smirk as he observed your face contorting with pleasure only he was providing.

"Oh, fuck-" You uttered, entirely overwhelmed by the combined sensations of his fingers working on both your nipples and clit, his thick cock filling you further and further with each rock of your pelvis.

A hoarse, breathy groan fell from Neil's lips as he lost himself in the feeling of you, digits stroking your arousal just a little faster as the opposing hand took a keen rest on your behind, allowing himself to better embrace the feeling of it against his skin. He offered your ass a small, restrained squeeze as the both of you grew closer and closer. 

"That's it baby, just like that.." He praised, length quivering between your tight, eager clenches. Suddenly, your release hit with the force of a tidal wave, coursing through your aching body as the firmly-wound coil in your stomach finally snapped.

At that, Neil slipped a rather loud, ragged moan, hips jerking up scruffily as he came undone, thighs twitching as did yours, both palms slowly caressing the flushed skin of your ass.

With an amused, clearly out of breath chuckle, Neil pressed his forehead to yours with the assistance of his charming, hopelessly bashful grin, "Maybe we should make our own movie.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her pronouns used, reader is implied British and given backstory)

Category: I still don’t know but it’s coming together

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you’re pleasantly surprised to run into your secret observer.

Warnings: flirting (Ghost and reader getting some action, they deserve it), mentions of war/death, talks of scars, alcohol consumption, Ghost being normal AND weird, the mask is off again, Ghost doing domestic things almost (socialisation in a pub), sexual references, family issues, reader’s friends are intense, British terminology/slang, swearing/cursing, dialogue heavy, minute Soap slander (I love him but couldn’t resist)

Word Count: 5.5k (longer than part 1)

A/N: After the love I got for part 1, I decided to continue so Simon is still my babygirl. Please remember that if Simon feels out of character, that’s the point of this story. It’s him when he’s not being Ghost but being forced to mix aspects of his life at home and his life at work - the work aspects being reader. Also he’s going out of his comfort zone to please the sergeant (you) because he likes you but just hasn’t really realised it yet. Not entirely sure I’m as pleased with this part as I was with the first but we’re posting anyway!

Part 1 available here.

Part 3 available here.

It took weeks before your friends finally managed to convince you to join them on a night out. You'd been putting it off for a number of reasons. One being that the thought of socialising in a crowded environment had you wanting to gouge your eyes out as you'd grown used to little to no company. Another being that you genuinely thought it'd be overwhelming and you might have a panic attack.

But after they'd assured you that they'd look after you and you could all leave if it got to be too much, you relented and organised a time and place with them. Just your local pub on a Wednesday night. You'd decided on a Wednesday as you hoped it wouldn't be too crowded and that your friends might need a pick-me-up in the middle of their work weeks. They agreed quickly with the idea.

And honestly it'd been nice for the most part. You'd arrived early, you swear active duty had made you so time efficient that you spent almost no time at all getting ready, and sat down at a table in the corner, out of sights of the most of the rest of the pub. The only thing in direct eye line was the bar itself which would come in handy when you needed to go up and order drinks.

Your friends all slowly arrived, none of them being too late, and gave you big greetings as they hadn't seen you in "forever" they claimed. You returned hugs and kisses and prepared yourself for a night of bombarding questions and retelling of war stories.

A couple of your girlfriends were bought drinks by guys at the bar and you watched on in amusement as they giggled about it together. They assured you that someone would probably buy you a drink if you asked but you waved them off saying you didn't care, which you didn't.

You listened intently as they all told you what was happening with their lives - work, significant others, kids, families, pets, parties, weddings, funerals, birthdays, anything and everything you could possibly imagine. A note of envy settled in your stomach at one point but it went away quickly when you told yourself you were being silly.

Telling them about your life was slightly more complicated. You had to skirt around some of the details of your job as it was classified and would probably horrify them if they knew what you truly did. You gushed about some of the amazing people you'd met and mentioned casually that you'd actually bumped into your lieutenant in the supermarket. They all absorbed it with wide eyes of wonder and amazement, each of them having at least one question to ask.

"So, wait, you can actually shoot a gun?"

"Does it bother you having to bunk with a bunch of blokes?"

“What’s said country like?”

"Are any of them fit?"

"Isn't it tiring?"

"How long until you go back?"

"Met anyone you fancy?"

"Hang on, you have to share a communal bathroom?"

Yes, it's alright, not really, they're okay, very, not sure, oh my god, yeah.

They never really seemed satisfied with your answers and always wanted you to elaborate. Which you did if possible.

Overall, it was nice. There was no sense of impending doom or a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole thing. You let your guard down just enough for once to attempt to have a good time. Which you did. You laughed, you chatted, you drank, it was good.

Until the bar tender came over with a drink that looked exactly like what you usually ordered.

And when he placed it in front of you, you wanted to throw up.

"Fella at the bar bought this for you."

This was it. The moment in the night that you looked forward to the least and the moment your friends had been encouraging the most. They insisted that you needed to "put yourself out there more" and “try to get laid at some point”. You were "too uptight" as they put it. Little did they know that you weren't really interested in a quick shag or even a relationship with anyone at the moment. And rejecting someone was always awful. Every time they asked why and having to explain that your job made romantic entanglements extremely hard made things awkward.

"Ooh, this is so exciting!" One of your friends squealed beside you, frantically searching the bar for the culprit. "Which one?"

“Blond one.”

Oh.

"Tall."

My.

"Scars on his face."

God.

Your eyes shot towards the bar and immediately landed on him. Of course he was already looking your way with his drink raised to you.

"Shit." You cursed, silently letting out a sigh of relief that it wasn't someone you'd have to reject but all the more anxious because it was him. A part of you was very excited to see him though.

"What is it? Do you know him?" Another friend asked you.

"He's my lieutenant. Fuck." You stood from your seat, grabbing the drink.

"The one from the shops?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a minute, guys. I'm just gonna go say hi." You explained, slowly making your way towards Ghost.

"Take your time!"

You hadn't seen your lieutenant since he'd gone over to your place for tea. It was a weird experience. Weirder than the shops. You'd had a couple cups of tea each, shared his packet of chocolate digestive biscuits, which he'd kindly offered to you, chatted a little more and then he'd left. You didn't exchange phone numbers or even offer to see each other again. He didn't because he probably didn't want to and you didn't because you thought he probably wouldn't want to. So you'd gone your separate ways and that was that.

As you got closer to him, you wished you hadn't had so much to drink. You weren't drunk but you weren’t sober either. Kind of just bordering the edges between being buzzed and tipsy.

"Simon."

He turned so his body was facing yours, his large frame consumed the stool he was sitting on. Intimidating and alluring all at once. "Sergeant."

"You really should start calling me by my name." You sighed, stopping to stand in front of him.

"I like calling you sergeant."

"And I liked calling you lieutenant." You shot back, taking a sip of your drink despite your head screaming at you not to.

"Bet you like calling me Simon more."

Your eyes widened at his statement. He wasn't wrong but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Thanks for the drink, by the way."

"It's no problem. Thought I owed you for the bourbon."

You hummed in agreement but said nothing.

"Friends of yours?" He nodded towards your table where all of them were watching the two of you interact intently.

"Uh, yeah. First night out since being home so..." You shrugged.

"Having fun?"

"I was." You regretted your words immediately, knowing that you’d been insensitive.

"Ruined it, did I?" He asked but it wasn't malicious.

"No. Just... unexpected."

He nodded. "So, which one's your boyfriend?"

You were surprised at the question. Last time he'd enquired about your personal life it hadn't gone so well.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back."

He blinked at you and said nothing so you rushed off to make tea, desperately trying to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

"That's presumptuous of you, lieutenant."

"Just making conversation with you, sergeant." The return of dropping rank had you tingling inside. Might have just been the alcohol though.

You huffed. "None of them."

"Girlfriend then?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Sorry soul you're torturing with your affection couldn't make it then? What a shame." His eyes narrowed, you presumed he was joking.

"I'll ignore that insult. I'm single." Setting your drink on the surface of the bar, you leant your hip against the side but not before taking a step closer to him.

"Lucky for the world then that you're not burdening anyone with yourself."

"Jesus, Simon." You laughed out of shock, struck with his bluntness.

"Had to be said."

"Huh, you really are a charmer." You flashed him a glimpse of your teeth in a small smile, brows raising on the last word of your sentence.

"I try my best.” Pause. “Why are you single?"

"Because my affection is a burden apparently." Repeating his own words back to him seemed better than explaining your depressing void of no romance in your life because of your job. But maybe he’d understand.

"I'm serious."

"Why do you care?"

Simon didn’t strike you as the kind of person who gave a shit about the love lives of people he worked with. So why did he seem so interested in yours?

He didn't answer straight away and when he did, it seemed rehearsed. "You're my sergeant, part of my team. It's my role to care."

"To make sure I stay alive. Not to inquire about my love life." You were properly frowning at him now.

Ghost raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry I asked."

With a sigh, you relented. "The job."

"Go on…"

"Makes it difficult. The job makes it difficult to date. Especially civilians." You added the last bit on with clenched teeth. It didn’t really matter. Civilians were not on your romantic radar.

"Would you want to date a civilian?"

He saw straight through you.

"No, not really."

"Hmm."

You wanted to avoid discussing the topic any further so asked a question to change the subject. "What're you drinking?"

"Scotch that Soap recommended."

"And?"

He swished the glass around, the ice clinking against the side. "Utter shite."

"Figures." You took a long look at his drink. “You drink it on the rocks.”

“Tastes better cold. Less shit.”

“That your second glass?”

"Monitoring my alcohol intake, sergeant?” He asked and you shook your head as he looked you up and down. “You gonna take a seat or just stand there all day?"

"I'm supposed to be going back to my friends." You gestured weakly over your shoulder with your thumb, kind of forgetting they’d still been there until that moment.

His eyes flickered between the table and you. "Think we both know that isn't happening any time soon."

You hated how he saw straight through you. "Do we?"

"We do. Take a seat, sergeant." He nodded towards the stool next to him.

You stood up straighter, making a point to look directly into his eyes. "I like being eye level with you."

His foot hooked around the back of your legs and tugged you closer to him. "Think you'll find that I've still got a couple inches on you."

Your skin flushed hot, he was so close to you. You reached out and tapped his chest a couple times before realising what you were doing and removed your hand. "Think you'll find that you've had a bit too much to drink, sir."

"Simon. Thought we'd established that you can call me Simon." He leant back a little bit, relaxing in his seat. “And thought we agreed that you weren’t monitoring my alcohol intake.”

"Sorry." You squeaked.

"Sorry who?"

With a smile, you looked up at him through your lashes. You already knew what you were going to say. "Sorry... Lieutenant Riley."

He smiled. Actually smiled. It was small but it was unmistakable. "Brat."

He was beautiful when he smiled. He was always beautiful but when Simon Riley smiled… he was radiant.

You lit up at the smile but glowered at the insult. "Simon!"

"It's true." He shrugged, taking another mouthful of his drink and wincing at the taste.

"I'm stubborn. Not a brat."

"Believe me, I know you're stubborn. You've almost died like twelve times because you're stubborn. Had to save you every time." He shook his head as if it were a grievance to him.

"Could've left me behind."

"Couldn't do that. I'm your lieutenant, remember? My role is to keep you alive."

"I'm sure Price would let it slide if you had good enough reason." You thought about your Captain and wondered if he'd let you die for a good enough cause. Probably. But you held no resentment towards that fact.

Simon's head tilted to the side as he watched you think. "Don't think he'd accept brat as a reason, hm?"

You raised a finger to correct him. "Stubborn. Not a brat."

"Definitely a brat."

"Stop calling me that." You whined.

"That was the brattiest thing you've ever said. In the brattiest voice." He glared down at you. "You whined."

"You're such a dickhead, Simon." You scoffed but it was clear you were holding back a smile.

"And you're a brat. Guess we're even."

"Okay, I'm going back to my friends. To get away from this targeted attack." You paused. "Unless you want to join."

"I'll pass."

"I guessed. Do you have any friends? Maybe you could use the socialisation." You offered, wondering whether the man ever spoke to anyone when he was home or if he completely isolated himself from the rest of the world.

"Don't have friends for a reason."

That answered that for you.

"And what's that?"

"Ask too many personal questions."

He had a valid point. People did ask too many personal questions and you could understand why someone like Simon wouldn't like that.

"They wouldn't. My friends. They know we tend to be... private."

"You're a sergeant and I'm a lieutenant. Neither of us are privates." He paused to let the joke settle in. "A little army humour."

"I got it. That was good." You beamed at him, eyes crinkling in the corners at his quip.

"How much do they know of what we do?" He nodded in the direction of your friends.

You thought it over for a moment. "Very little. They know more about my teammates than anything else. Even that is limited."

He stiffened at that. "What do they know of me?"

"My quiet lieutenant with no face. Until recently." You let your eyes roam his features, taking all of him in. He was remarkable to look at really. But you'd never voice that to him.

"Hmm."

"There's more but I won't divulge with you." It was a partial joke to mess with him a little. There was some truth behind it however. You may or may not have gushed about your lieutenant to your friends. But that was nothing really. Just friendly appreciation for the man who outranked you.

"That makes me nervous."

Playing with him was too easy and too fun. "You should be."

"I'm reconsidering sitting with you and your friends now." He frowned but wasn't completely serious.

That surprised you. "You were going to?"

"Maybe." He drank more of the Scotch and trembled. "Christ, this stuff is fucking disgusting."

"Order a bourbon, something you know you actually like." You sighed. "Please do. If they're too much we can leave."

"We?" He was always questioning we.

You rolled your eyes at him. "It's always we. Teammates, y'know?"

A level of unsureness settled over his face. "I know."

"Get used to a lot of we then."

"Don't plan on seeing you again after this." The admittance stung but you weren't going to let that stop you.

"I'm sure you thought that last time as well. But here we are. Are you stalking me?" There was a hint of genuineness in the question. There was no way this second chance encounter was pure coincidence.

He shook his head, waving the bar tender over and ordering a bourbon like you'd suggested. "You're too boring for that."

"You have such a way with words. Really know how to make a lady feel special." You said dryly.

"It's a gift." He scratched at the side of his nose, absentmindedly trailing a finger over one of his scars in the process.

"They wouldn't say anything, y'know? Or stare. If you're worried about that. I've come home with my fair share of scars over the years. They understand." You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side to show off an old bullet wound that had scarred over on your collar bone.

Simon's eyes lingered on the mark on your skin but you couldn't quite read his expression. "People always stare."

"I don't."

"No, you don't." He hesitated. "Okay then."

"Wait, really?" You perked up.

"Yes, really. Quickly. Before I change my mind, sergeant." He rose from his seat, grabbing his drink and gesturing for you to go first.

You gazed up at him. It really was easy to forget just how big he was. "Quick question first?"

He didn't seem keen. "Go ahead."

"How long were you here watching me before you sent the drink over?" You really needed to know, to see how out of it you were.

"Not long." Lie.

Your brow furrowed. "How long, Simon?"

"About forty minutes."

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect it to have been that long. "Fort- Jesus. And I didn't notice you?"

He brushed you off with a small shrug. "You were having fun. Guard was down."

"Still."

"Don't dwell on it. I was just going to leave and not let you know I was here." His eyes moved away from you, the opposite side of his eye contact problem showing.

You ducked to the side to meet his gaze again. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged again.

You offered him a small slip of affection, just the tiniest thing. "I'm glad you didn't."

He grunted in reply, which was more than you were expecting. So, you just gestured for him to follow you towards the table of your friends where you stopped short a couple feet away. You sent a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure that Simon was still, in fact, there and hadn't pulled a Ghost and disappeared. But he was still standing there watching you when you checked. Which meant it was time for introductions... which you sucked at.

"Everybody, this is Simon. My lieutenant. Simon this is... everybody." You frowned at the crowded table in front of you. "You'll pick up names. It's alright that he joins us, yeah?"

“Of course.”

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god, yes."

"Take a seat, mate."

"Where you from, Simon?"

"Manchester."

"Ugh, he's a Manc! Moving on!"

You laughed as you squeezed into the booth with Simon next to you, trying not to touch him too much. "What did I miss? What are we talking about?"

"My husband is cheating on me." One of your friends announced dramatically.

Your eyes widened at the confession. "What? Really?"

"I suspect he is." She pouted, slumping forward onto the table.

"As if. He worships the ground you walk on. As he should. What makes you think he's cheating?" You debated whether this was a good topic to be talking about with your lieutenant sat right there. But then you figured that Simon needed some friends. And what was a better way to make friends than through some old-fashioned gossip?

"Late nights as work. Going to the gym a lot. He's not getting any fitter either."

You winced. "Ah, well that is quite damning."

"Yeah. I'm trying to build up the courage to just ask him about it."

"Yeah, confront him. If he's cheating then come to me. I know how to use a gun and hide a body." You winked at her.

"Sergeant." Simon's warning tone came from beside you.

"I'm kidding, lieutenant." You looked to your friend again and mouthed. "I'm not."

Another one of your friends spoke up, leaning on the table on his elbows. "God, you guys are so formal. Even during leave."

"We don't have to be. He refuses to call me anything other than sergeant. I think it's because he secretly doesn't know my name." You nudged Simon with your elbow and then, realising what you'd done, pulled back quickly. Maybe taking a break from the drink would be a good idea for a while.

"Not true." Ghost shook his head slowly.

"So you claim. Yet you've yet to refer to me as anything other than sergeant."

"It's fun watching you squirm thinking you have to be on your best behaviour all the time." He sent you a sly smirk, his eyes squinting just the tiniest bit.

Your jaw dropped. "I'm asking Price to reassign me. This is bullying."

"Wouldn't let Price do it." He countered, leaning in dangerously close.

"Who's Price?"

The both of you pulled back at the question and answered simultaneously. "Captain."

"Ah, okay. The one with the mutton chops, right?" One friend offered.

You nodded. "Right."

Simon huffed. "That's what you told them about Price?"

"It's his best feature."

"Christ, woman." He groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Ooh, woman's a new one."

A friend volunteered in your defence. "To be fair, she's not allowed to tell us much. She usually gives us one identifying feature of every person she tells us about. So we can keep up."

"I'm assuming Soap is the fact that he's Scottish."

"Scottish with Mohawk. He gets two."

"What's Gaz?"

"Baby of the team."

"Fitting. Me?"

You stayed silent.

"What is it?"

You shook your head. "Can't say. Classified."

"Sergeant." His voice was harsh, demanding.

But you weren’t going to give in. "Lieutenant."

"I won't be insulted." His voice dropped to its familiar bored tone, as if trying to force the idea that it wouldn’t bother him.

That’s not what concerned you however. "Don't think you would be."

"Then why can't you tell me?”

"Just can't." Stellar reasoning, well done.

"I could ask them." He tilted his head in the direction of your friends, who were all watching you completely enraptured.

You didn’t back down, stare hardening at him. "Go ahead."

"Fine." He turned to the table. "What's my identifying feature?"

There was a moment of silence before someone gave in and admitted it. Traitors. "You don't have one."

There was a split second of delay before he replied. "She doesn't talk about me then?"

"Quite the opposite actually." One of your friends giggled.

Another stepped in. "Talks about you sooo much that you don't need an identifying feature. Just know who her lieutenant is."

"Besides, apparently you usually wear a mask. You have no features."

A raised finger of a counterpoint. "Arguably, the mask is the feature."

Ghost turned to you, almost smug. "You talk about me, sergeant?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Simon. You're good at what you do. I can appreciate that." You sniffed, rolling your shoulders back to force yourself to relax.

"Out loud? With your friends?"

You shot him an irritated look. "Get over yourself."

"Didn't say anything."

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "I know what you're thinking."

"I'm sure you do." He exhaled deeply, glancing away from you towards his drink.

Your own gaze moved back towards everyone else around the table. "Moving on! What else is happening with you guys?"

"Saw your parents a couple days ago. They said they didn't know you were home."

Well, that wasn’t the jollier topic you hoped to move on to.

A fake smile automatically set itself on your face at the mention of your family. "Fuck. What did you say?"

"Lied for you and said you only just got back. Might want to call them."

"I will do that. At some point.” Lie, lie, lie.

"Mhm, your sister had another baby as well. That's what? The fourth niece or nephew you haven't met?" There was a note of condescension in your friend’s voice.

You shrugged, knowing you had a decent enough reason. If your job counted as decent. "I've been busy. And it's only the second."

"We're not judging. Your parents might be though."

"Well, that's lovely to know." You slouched down in your seat. The relationship with your parents was… touchy, to say the least. Desperately seeking their approval for years had left the bond with them strained. And you being away from home so often definitely hadn’t helped the rockiness of it all.

"Also they seem convinced that you've met a military man and are going to come home engaged or married..."

Your face scrunched in disgust. "Oh, ew. What the fuck?"

Simon elbowed you harshly in the ribs. "We're not that bad."

"Share a bunk with Soap and come back to me on that." You snapped back. Your fellow sergeant was a snorer who regularly farted in his sleep. He was like your brother but man did you hate having to sleep in close proximity to him.

"Fair point.” He grumbled back to you. “But why are they under that impression?"

"They know I don't date civilians."

"Or anyone." One of your friends mumbled in her drink.

"Thank you.” You sent her a sarcastic smile. “So they think I'm after a man in uniform."

"Aren't you?" The same friend asked.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw. "In... theory."

"Not in practice though." She carried on, loving the way you were squirming.

"We know not in practice, okay? Doesn't need to be said aloud.” You spared a glance at the man beside you before adding a harsh whisper. “Especially in front of my lieutenant."

"I'm sure Simon is loving this."

"It comes with the job. Family troubles and no love life." He offered some of your words back to you from earlier, shrugging. You were glad of the support from him, even if it was only your own thoughts.

"You got any friends for her Simon? Anyone on the team you think she'd be good with?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not good enough for her."

Wait, what? Not good enough? For you? Since when did he have such a high opinion of you?

A friend of yours cooed. "That's sweet. If it helps, she's great in the sack."

You choked on the mouthful of drink you were taking, slamming your glass back down. "And how exactly would you know that?!"

"I shared a house with you in uni, babes. I remember all those guys coming out of your room with dazed smiles looking as if they'd just had the time of their life." She grinned at you slyly.

Eyes wide. Jaw dropped. Heart racing. "Oh, my god. Please shut up."

"You asked."

"I didn't need such a detailed answer!” You were ignored.

"Although you may be quite rusty at the moment. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You covered your face with your hands. "For the love of everything that is good in this world, please be quiet."

"I'm just saying. We're all friends here, aren't we?" She laughed, mainly gesturing towards your higher up.

"He's my lieutenant!"

"Wait, Simon, are you single?"

You cut in before it could go any further. "Nope! Okay! So... sister? Baby. Parents? Delusional. What else?"

Everyone around the table chuckled at your reaction but moved on anyway, much to your relief.

"They're hoping you’re home for Christmas this year."

Your hand tightened around your drink. "I hope I'm not."

"Thought you'd say that."

Paying little attention to what your friend actually said, you mumbled to yourself. "That's fucking ridiculous of them. What the actual fuck?"

"We said the same." Mumbled loud enough for them to overhear apparently.

Simon looked confused. "What's the issue there?"

You failed to answer so someone else did for you. "They uninvited her to Christmas three years ago. Hasn't been back since."

"Why would they do that?"

"Didn't approve of her lifestyle."

He turned to you. "Your... lifestyle?"

"Murderer daughter." You bit back, bitterly.

His body tightened with tension. "You're not a murderer."

"Tell them that." You snorted. "Why do they want me home now?"

"Beats us.” Your friends said in weird unison.

"Wish they'd make their mind up over whether they want to disown me or not. It's exhausting trying to keep up."

The table laughed at that. Simon did not. But did he laugh at anything?

“I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” He looked down at you, pointing vaguely at your almost empty glass.

“Uhh… sure. Thanks.” You smiled at him, which he obviously didn’t return. After briefly asking everyone else if they wanted anything, which they declined, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Once he was a few paces away, one of your friends practically launched herself halfway across the table and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "He's gorgeous, babes."

You decided to play coy. "You think?"

"You don't?" Her brow was raised in disbelieving accusation.

The coy act was dropped pretty quickly. "Oh, I know he is. Just didn't think you would."

"Well, I do. And he’s definitely your type, absolutely perfect for you. Plus he so likes you."

You scoffed. "No, he doesn't."

"He fancies the pants off of you!" She insisted.

You didn’t buy it. "I can guarantee that he does not."

"He can't take his eyes off you!"

"He has a staring problem." You shrugged, it was true.

"Yeah, the problem is that he can't stop staring at you."

You thought about it. Yeah, he stared at you a lot. But he stared at everything. Didn't mean he stared at you with... feelings or whatever your friends were implying. Just that he had a staring problem.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley does not like me." It was a finalised statement, one that you believed wholeheartedly.

"Open your eyes, babes. He likes you."

"Do you like him?"

Avoid answering. "Not allowed to like him. He's my lieutenant."

"That doesn't answer our question."

Shit.

"Maybe a little." You pinched your fingers together, there was no point lying to them, and shook your head. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"Why?"

"Because, say he did like me, he'd never admit it. And I'm not going to push him into anything. I'm just glad he's talking to me and accepting my attempt at us being friends." That was true. You were loving how he wasn’t completely rejecting your friendship. He maybe wasn’t embracing it but he wasn’t pushing you away either.

"That's so sad, babes."

"Cheers.” You deadpanned. “It can't happen anyway."

"Why not?"

"Relationships aren't allowed. Makes us a liability. My captain would reassign one of us as soon as he caught wind of it. And it would be me." The thought of Price reassigning you was horrid. You loved your team more than anything.

"Simon said he wouldn't let your captain reassign you."

That was true, he did. "He was joking... I think."

"I don't think he was. That man stares at you like he's ready to eat you. It's like listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen in real life!"

Groan. "You watched Dirty Dancing again, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that Simon looks at you with hungry eyes. And don't judge my love for Dirty Dancing." Two of your friends nodded in agreement with her.

"I'm not. I'm judging your favourite song choice when Love Is Strange by Mickey and Sylvia is clearly the superior song on the soundtrack." You said as you downed the last bit of your drink, thankful Simon was bringing you another one. Your mouth was dry and the initial buzz was wearing off. You’d need more alcohol if this interrogation was going to continue despite it probably not being the best idea.

"Blasphemy!” She declared before quietening herself. “Oop, we gotta be quiet now because he's coming back over. Simon!"

He froze in his tracks, a glass clasped in each large hand. "Yes?"

"Can you settle a debate for us?"

You froze too, wide-eyed. They weren't going to ask about him staring at you, were they?

"Sure...?"

You smiled at his unsure tone. Big, scary man who got shot at for a living was terrified of answering a little question.

"You've seen Dirty Dancing, yeah?"

You relaxed.

"I have."

Surprising.

"Which is a better song? Hungry Eyes or Love Is Strange?"

"Oh, I... uh-"

"Leave the poor man alone." You laughed despite being a little curious about his music taste.

"I always liked She's Like the Wind."

That shocked you to your core. "Patrick Swayze fan?"

"Used to have a mullet just like his." He placed your drink in front of you. "Here you go. You look surprised."

"I always am when you don't disappear. And when you admit to being a Patrick Swayze fan." You snorted, taking the drink from him.

"Learn to have a little faith, Sarge." He sighed as he sat down next to you again, an inch closer than before you were sure.

A burning feeling settled in your chest at the nickname. Sure, it was only a shortened version of your rank, and a common one at that, but it was something. Not sergeant. Not woman. Sarge. You decided to let it slide to see if he’d ever do it again of his own accord.

"Your name's Ghost for a reason." You sing-songed, the image of his mask flashing through your mind.

"I'll give you that. But remember, Simon here."

"Still weird."

"Still Simon."

You chewed the inside of your bottom lip before asking your next question. "Patrick Swayze?"

"He was blond."

"Like you, you mean?"

Hesitation. "Yeah."

You hummed and thought about him with a mullet. What an odd thing to admit to you. But you’d never complain. If Simon was willing to offer you little tidbits of silly information about himself, then you were going to absorb every single one and treasure them forever.

A/N: Simon with a mullet as a teen because he wanted to be Patrick Swayze when he grew up is canon to me now.

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

masterpost pt 4 of alhaitham being endeared by kaveh, the second-hand embarrassment is pungent

- alhaitham's story quest

congratulations! you managed to make it to the end of your own story quest before indirectly mentioning kaveh! the close up of his smile when doing so is horrendous

the fond expression whilst feigning annoyance, the contrast between this expression and the ruminative ones he dons during this quest needs to be studied, these pixels fascinate me - also this part of the quest serves as the divide between alhaitham's professional life and the personal, us being in his house, and kaveh being home... i wonder if this is trying to tell us something (and then the ending dialogue before alhaitham kicks the player out implicitly confirming that kaveh is one of alhaitham's priorities through framing...)

the Infamous expression, this is criminal, i've watched the transition of his expressions here and yeah this is not just because of the angle

he's so amused by their rapport it's sickening

kaveh asking (hesitantly) for the second time if alhaitham really is okay and alhaitham responding that he is fine, and diverts the conversation back to their goading rapport - alhaitham fulfils the initial comment that kaveh made to him upon alhaitham returning, that the painting apparently isn't actually straight. the care they have for each other is apparent although disguised through goading because they cannot be emotionally open with each other

he knows exactly what to say to wheedle kaveh and he's so proud of this fact (i want to compare this teasing rapport to that one instance in a parade of providence, where kaveh loses in drawing lots and alhaitham points out the conflict of interest due to kaveh having a streak of misfortune in his usual goading way, only for kaveh to express genuine dislike for this, which causes alhaitham to startle and back off due to realising the extent of kaveh's upset. it serves to highlight that these typical examples of them 'bickering' are mostly inconsequential, with kaveh initiating the goading or whole-heartedly reciprocating, yes these types of exchanges only serve to reinforce kaveh's image of alhaitham as someone who is critical of him so yeah that isnt good, but that exchange in a parade of providence as compared to this scene in alhaitham's story quest is that there a manageable level they are able to navigate without risking genuine hurt)

he only said that so kaveh would call him out for said furniture, he is petty and proud and endeared - that being said, we deserve a boring 'ugly' wood carving reveal. also am obsessed with the og chinese where instead of kaveh saying 'don't go off buying furniture without me' he states that alhaitham does not have 'permission' to do so without him (which then probably parallels the line in a parade of providence where kaveh asks where alhaitham was for dinner and instead of 'i wasn't aware i had to report my whereabouts to you' alhaitham says 'am i to report my whereabouts to you?', just these little nuances that the eng misses)

he's so... fond? of kaveh's antics? right in front of kaveh's face? and kaveh just... assumes that alhaitham is thinking 'terrible' thoughts about outing him as poor and homeless? it just goes to show that kaveh sees a completely different version of alhaitham than is actually true

[jahiera]

see the thing about Astarion to me is I don't actually think he has a clue who he actually is beneath all of the everything he's got going on. he's got impulses, he's got drive, a will to live, he's got desires and amusements and cravings, but an actual selfhood?? no. there's a blue error screen where the person of him should be, the person -- whoever that was, I'm personally of the mind he likely wasn't good then either, but we'll see where the story takes us -- before Cazador. the man in front of us today is this mishmash of interior delight at freedom and sunlight but also capable of true unapologetic cruelty and willingness to be ugly in a multitude of ways. so he follows the impulse. he follows what intrigues and amuses, and nothing will take that freedom from him again. and he reflects back onto others the violence that was done unto him. a lack of power kept him down? now he wants to accumulate power, so it can never be turned on him again. but he also misses the sun while he's underground. he's mean and desperate and ruthless and it's interesting because he's unapologetic about it, he's unflinching about it. he's vindictive and mean and desperately floundering around throwing stuff at a wall to see what sticks in terms of personhood because who is he now. 200 years of horrific servitude and now he's just out and about and he's in the mud.

and he can be horrible. and yet when you take the routes of prying open the faaairly shallow veneer he has of smug and snark and snappiness, he'll give you pieces of the raw and the desperate -- "I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. what you see." is a line you only get if you're earnest with him. any other path in the dialogue will have him continue the shallow persona you've come to know. and in all of that I think nothing is "this is real, this is an act," set in stone because I just don't think he even knows, I don't think he has a CLUE what's his and what's the protective measures and what's the real delight and what's the cruel mockery of his surroundings and what he's willing to give vs what he needs to hide vs what he lets slip out on accident. the inconsistencies in his own ideas and what he says and what he does. I think most everything about him is in a weird place of deeply uncertain. is it a lie? is it a glimmer of truth? for me, I like to interpret him in this weird menagerie of half-truths and shallow lies and omissions, because we've only known him a short while and maybe also he doesn't even know the answer yet. who is he? fuck if HE knows. anyways. smash.