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makoodles · 6 months

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ミi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!

part one | part two

🍓 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, size kink, virgin!reader, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, some mild second-hand embarrassment perhaps, sex toys, edging, failed masturbation attempts, ghost takes your virginity and also maybe ruins you for literally anybody else ever again

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

The ceiling over your head is drab grey and water-stained, the old paint peeling away in strips. It’s an ugly sight, but you barely see it; you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

The sheets beneath you are uncomfortably damp with your sweat, but you don’t have the energy to roll over just yet. You feel hot and itchy with frustration, and you scowl up at the ceiling above you as your fingers curl into fists. But even though you feel like laying in your now grubby-bedding for the rest of the evening, you can’t let yourself wallow. There’s going to be a knock on your door any minute, and this is not a position you want to be found in.

With an irritable groan, you haul yourself off the bed and to your feet. Your muscles ache and you feel too warm, but you reach for your clothes anyway. The worn cotton of your shirt feels scratchy against your skin, but maybe that’s just because you’re still over-sensitive and irritable.

You can never quite bear to look at the aftermath of what you’d been doing, so you avert your eyes as you gather up the bright silicone and plastic devices littering your mattress. It’s embarrassing now that the adrenaline has worn off and disappointment is beginning to set in, so you end up gathering them all up more roughly than necessary.

The term ‘toy’ seems incongruous to you. It sounds too childish, too immature. It makes you sound like a stupid kid, as though you aren’t a young adult past twenty fumbling your way through sexual self-exploration. It’s embarrassing, and much more frustrating than you ever would have predicted – despite all of your clumsy, desperate attempts at pleasuring yourself, you’ve never quite managed to reach that peak of pleasure you’ve heard other people talking about.

You grumble quietly to yourself as you try to wipe away the sticky lube that’s still coating your thighs. Your muscles are a little achy from all the tensing you’d been doing trying to come with that stupid vibrator, not even accompanied by the satisfaction you had been hoping for.

It’s not as though you’ve never gotten the opportunity to experiment with others; you’re not unforgivably ugly, you don’t think you have a bad personality, and for the past few years you’ve been surrounded by military men that certainly aren’t known for being picky. And it certainly isn’t like you haven’t received your fair share of offers.

It just never seemed right. You’re not overly concerned about ‘saving’ your virginity or anything like that; it’s just that putting yourself into such a vulnerable position is scary. You’re aware of the irony, of course, that you’d trust many of these people with saving your ass from catching a bullet in the field, but allowing someone to see you so intimately feels like a step too far.

You’re still sweaty and flustered and naked when a knock sounds from your door, and you freeze. The doorknob turns, but doesn’t open; in that moment, you’re deliriously grateful that you had turned the lock – it’s something that you’ve forgotten to do on far too many occasions.

“Lass, you in there?” Oh god, it’s Soap.

Cursing quietly to yourself, you jolt into action. Your pants are crumpled at the bottom of your bed where you had shed them, and you hurriedly gather them up and struggle your way back into them.

“Gimme a minute!” You yell, praying he doesn’t notice the somewhat frantic edge to your voice.

You stagger slightly as you worm your way into your pants, and then lunge to grab the stupid dildo you’d just been trying to use. You feel your skin prickle with humiliation as you try to force the stupidly large silicone cock into your already full underwear drawer, jamming it shut roughly to hide it from sight. You don’t want to even imagine what Soap might have to say if he were to see what you had been doing; you think you might have to go full deserter mode and abscond into the wilderness.

“Did ye forget about drinks?” Soap’s drawl carries through the thickness of the door. He doesn’t sound even slightly put out – if anything, he sounds a little amused.

You pause, close your eyes, sigh. Fuck. You had not, in fact, forgotten about drinks, you just thought you had more time.

“No, I– just a minute!” You yell back, shoving your shoes on and trying to fix your hair.

You had completely lost track of time, and now you don’t even have time to rinse your sweat-damp skin off – you’re going to have to sit through drinks with the squad all grimy, like a physical reminder of what you had been up to for the last two hours.

When you finally unlock the door and wrench it open, Soap is standing on the other side tapping a staccato rhythm on his thighs with his open palms. He’s dressed casually in just blue jeans and a black muscle shirt, and he gives you a look of semi-disbelief.

“What the hell were you—”

“Gym.” You interrupt, landing on the only explanation you can think of for your sweaty skin and messy hair.

Soap blinks, but apparently decides it’s not worth the effort to continue that line of conversation. He just shrugs, then turns and starts making his way down the hall, slowing his pace for you to catch up.

You exhale; Soap can be like a bloodhound when he suspects there’s gossip to be had, and you’re relieved to have dodged a round of his relentless questioning. You suppose he can be surprisingly tactful sometimes, and he knows you well enough not to press you. Or, perhaps it’s because you come across as such a non-sexual being that it doesn’t even occur to him that there may be another explanation.

There’s an unofficial tradition that when the squad is on base, everyone gathers in the sparsely decorated recreation room for drinks and card games on Thursday evenings. It usually makes for an enjoyable night; Gaz and Soap can always be trusted to supply whatever bottles of alcohol they’ve managed to get their grubby little hands on, and it’s always amusing to watch Captain Price get increasingly more irate as Soap pretends not to understand the rules of whatever card game they’re playing. The whole illicitness of having contraband on base only makes the whole thing more exciting; the CO’s on base often turn a blind eye to the activity, so long as it’s kept under control.

But tonight, you’re distracted.

The others had offered a bit of good-natured ribbing when you and Soap had turned up late, but before long you’re all settled in a loose circle on the poorly-stuffed couches in the corner of the room. Gaz has already unstoppered a bottle of bourbon, and is attempting to convince a visibly unimpressed Price to play a game of Kings with them. You curl up on one of the worn-out couches opposite them, watching with a small if slightly stiff smile.

The atmosphere is relaxed and pleasant, almost enough to make you forget about the irritating buzz of unfulfilled arousal under your skin. You shift, trying to keep your movements small, subtle, to avoid the notice of your team. Your denim jeans are nowhere near as comfortable as usual, and you wonder briefly if you should have simply worn your cargo pants just to avoid the harsh friction of the denim.

You sit there feeling… unmoored. You fidget, drink your smooth bourbon in sips in an attempt to avoid wincing, and try not to look as obviously out of place as you feel. It’s been like this, recently. Joining the task force has been an accomplishment for you, a source of immense pride – you’re the youngest member (just narrowly beating Gaz for the title) and a woman to boot, and though the squad has never treated you any differently it’s hard to kick the belief that you have something to prove.

You engage in conversations the best you can, but you’re distracted and you know it must be obvious. Your preoccupation gets you a couple of furrowed brows and glances, but there seems to be an unspoken agreement to give you some space.

You don’t even realise the extent of your distraction until a big body settles down on the loveseat next to you, and you jolt. True to his name, Ghost had appeared near silently, escaping your notice until he lowers himself down to sit next to you.

And damn, you forget how big he is sometimes. It’s an average sized loveseat, but the lieutenant takes up over half of it. He’s obviously being mindful not to consciously crush you, but he’s not being overly cautious when it comes to avoiding touching you. He’s dressed unusually casually, and his thick, muscled thigh is wrapped in blue denim as it presses carelessly against yours.

“You alright?” He asks, his voice low and smooth as he nudges your knee with one of his big knuckles.

You haven’t been a member of the task force for long, but you would know Simon Riley by his hands alone, by the earthy salt-spice in your nose as he leans a little closer to peer at your face. You tilt your head up, unable to stop the small reflexive smile that breaks over your face at the sight of him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, hurriedly straightening up where you’re sitting. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

His sudden proximity isn’t doing your current state any favours, and you take a quick sip of your drink in an effort to collect yourself. It’s taking a herculean effort not to stare at the way his biceps are bulging against the straining material of his black cotton t-shirt.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ghost asks as he stretches out his legs with a tired groan. The sound is gruff and gravelly, and you feel blood rush uncomfortably to your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You say quickly.

He doesn’t believe you, that much is obvious, but Ghost never pushes and he rarely speaks more than he has to. He just gives you a glance, brief and knowing and far more penetrating than it should be, before turning his head back so he can watch the boys playing their card game. He’s holding a crystal tumbler filled with dark amber liquid, but he hasn’t yet pulled his mask up to drink from it.

Your eyes drop to the thick, pale scars that mar the backs of his hands. You trace the path of the scar tissue, eyes lingering around the thick knuckles and broad palms, the way that he holds the glass so casually confidently. He’s got nice hands, probably made all the more attractive by the fact that you hardly ever get to see them. Seeing Ghost without his usual long sleeves and gloves makes you feel like a Victorian pervert snatching stolen glances at a passing lady’s ankles.

A quiet snicker causes your eyes to dart back to his face, and you’re mortified to find that he’s caught you staring.

“What’s got you in such a mood?” He asks. Even through the mask you can tell that he’s smirking, though it doesn’t feel as though he’s making fun of you.

“Just one of those days, I guess.” You say without meeting his eyes.

It’s an evasion at best, but Ghost nods ponderously as though he’s giving this great thought. His stare is penetrating, those big brown eyes watching you as though he can see right through you. Maybe he can. You try not to get too caught up staring at his pale eyelashes, darkened by smears of eyeblack.

“Did something happen?” He asks. The question is casual enough, asked as he lazily swirls his whiskey around in his glass, but his gaze is sharp and assessing.

“No.” You sigh, finally looking properly at him.

It’s a little frustrating, but the squad has been like this with you from the start – protective. Your whole military career has consisted of you veritably clawing your way up through the ranks, and you’ve been surrounded by coarse, gruff men that have underestimated you all your life. 141 is different – they don’t baby you, but the way they treat you is unmistakably softer than how they typically treat each other. The concern can be touching, if a little tiring sometimes.

And maybe it’s because he’s your lieutenant, but Ghost’s attention has always been just this side of overwhelming. It feels like you’re pinned beneath his dark eyes, his gaze somehow sharpened as he watches you from beneath his more casual balaclava, the skull pattern printed on his jaw adding another layer of intimidation. But his shoulders are relaxed as he sits next to you on the small couch, settling the weight of his attention over you like a blanket.

You’ve always respected him, admired him. How could you not? He’s practically a living legend, his reputation larger than life, and he’s scary as fuck. But he’s also softer than you had expected, gentle when he needs to be. He still rides you hard in training, pushing you to your limits and taking no quarter, but you can’t begrudge that. Not when you know he’s working to keep you alive. Perhaps that’s how the attraction had first bloomed; once it started, it was hard to stifle.

Ghost hooks one finger into his balaclava and pulls it up just high enough to expose his mouth, and he presses his glass to his lips to take a sip of his drink. You struggle not to stare like a moron, but he makes it so difficult. His lips are full and pink, and there’s a rugged scar bisecting his top lip. His stubble is dark blond and short, and it doesn’t hide the various scars and marks that decorate his strong jawline.

You almost jolt when he pulls the mask back down, hurriedly averting your eyes and forcing yourself to look out across the room. It’s not just the 141 that’s decided to take up in the rec room this evening; there are soldiers from other units littered all around the room, laughing and joking, playing lazy games of pool on the table in the corner and smoking. The smoke alarm has been jimmied off the ceiling and the window is open, and even Price is turning a temporary blind eye to the blatant disregard for regulations in favour of puffing on one of his cigars.

Ghost shifts on the worn-out fabric of the couch, and lays an arm over the back of the headrest behind you. It’s a casual, thoughtless movement, but it ends up pushing his body slightly closer to you in a way that makes you feel as though you’re about to catch fire.

You cross your legs, but the seam of your jeans presses into your pussy in a way that sends a frisson of heat up your spine. You hurriedly uncross your legs, and attempt to school your expression into casual neutrality as you force yourself to tune back into the conversation.

“–ach, c’mon, Captain,” Soap is saying in a wheedling tone that he probably thinks is endearing. “One round of strip poker won’t kill ya–”

“No.” Price says in a voice like thunder, brooking no argument as thick cigar smoke pours from his nose. It gives the impression of an enraged bull.

Soap either is ignorant to the warning, or is choosing to wilfully ignore it. Judging by the sly gleam in his eyes, you can guess which. He turns to you then, and waggles his eyebrows.

“C’mon, lassie, you’ll play, won’t ya?” He asks with a grin that promises trouble. “I guarantee you’ll be a sight better than any o’ these louts.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gaz pipes up, already grinning. “I was looking forward to seeing the Captain in his jocks–”

Price promptly knocks his drink back, before pushing himself up to his feet with a grim groan. “Right. That’s enough of you lot for one night.”

Gaz and Soap break into peals of laughter, settling back into their seats as they watch their captain march away.

“Offer’s still open, love,” Soap says, still snickering when he looks over to you. “Wanna play?”

Ghost shifts, his wide thigh knocking into yours as his arm stretches behind your shoulders. He lets out a short exhale through his nose, but when you glance up at him you find him as stoic and hard to read as always.

You just roll your eyes. It’s not the first time that they’ve tried to rope you into strip poker, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You can always trust Soap to start stripping his clothes off when he’s three drinks in, whether he’s playing a game or not, so it’s not surprising that he tries to involve other people in his bad decision making.

And it’s not a big deal, really. There’s been countless missions and operations that have ended up with all of you staying in uncomfortably close quarters with each other. You’ve seen them naked countless times, and the same with them for you. It’s never meant anything, and you know that Soap’s teasing is exactly that – you don’t think they’ve ever once looked at you through any sexual lens at all.

But even still, the joke flusters you more than it should.

“Think I’ll be joining Cap in going to bed, actually.” You say, clearing your throat and setting your glass down on the low table in front of the couch.

The playful booing from Soap doesn’t do much to change your mind, and you stick out your tongue at him and Gaz as you push yourself up from the couch. You try to ignore the loss of heat at your side when you move away from Ghost, though you can’t help but glance back at the lieutenant. He’s not looking at you, his gaze directed into his glass. You try not to feel disappointed about that.

You say your goodnights, and retreat from the rec room.

By the time you make it back to your dorm however, you’re already playing the conversation back over in your head and wondering if you had made the wrong decision.

Perhaps you should have just played the damn game. Despite your inexperience with all things sexual, you’re not actually all that shy about your body. On missions, you and the squad are often forced into tight quarters, and they've all seen you in various stages of undress before. It's hard to be self-conscious around a group of people that have seen you at your worst, whether that’s soaked in blood, unshowered, sleep-deprived, or injured.

But you were so keyed up from your earlier failed attempts at masturbation that the thought of being so physically exposed in front of your squad is mortifying. It feels as though your unresolved arousal is still simmering through your veins, turning your thoughts slow and soupy and stupid.

It’s not so surprising. Your preferred method of dealing with stress is coming back to your private bunk and messing around with your vibrator until you’ve forgotten all of your problems. The problem is, you’ve never quite been able to reach that climax you’ve heard so many talk about.

It’s not for lack of trying, and it’s not as though you haven’t come close to that toe-curling finish you crave so much. But it’s like there’s some sort of block, something that always holds you back before you can go plummeting over that edge. Something that makes the buzzing pleasure dissipate before your eyes like smoke, leaving you worked up and so frustrated. It’s probably inevitable that all those ruined finishes have built up like sludge in your veins, leaving you slow and distracted and irritable.

You eye your underwear drawer thoughtfully as you perch on your bed, before reaching inside and drawing out the same dildo you had been using earlier. You wonder if it would be too much to try again tonight – the muscles in your calves still feel a little bit over-worked from training all day, and you have a feeling that straining in an attempt to reach an orgasm you’ll likely never attain will only make it worse.

But the thought of Ghost in that stupid tight cotton shirt stays firmly stuck in your mind, and that really makes the decision for you. Before you can think too much about it, you’re sliding your jeans off and climbing atop your mattress. The sheets are dirty anyway, after all. May as well have some fun before you change them.

You slide your panties off next, then kick them to the side. It’s difficult not to feel a little pathetic, but you push those feelings aside. So what if you have an embarrassing little crush on a superior officer? It’s not like that’s unusual within the military, and you’re quite certain that dealing with all that unresolved attraction like this is the most sensible thing you can do.

You fish out the bottle of lube you had been using earlier, and drizzle it liberally along the dildo’s length before setting it aside on the blanket. While you’ve used your dildo plenty of times, you still struggle to grow accustomed to the stretch of it. It’s a good dildo – a vibrating one in the rabbit style, designed to stimulate your g-spot and clit at the same time. It was damn expensive too, but it’s one luxury you’re willing to indulge in.

You close your eyes, slide it between your legs, and hit the power button. A low bzzz emanates from between your thighs; you jerk at the immediate barrage of pleasure, your abs tightening and your legs twitching apart, creating more room between them.

Your body is quick to react, sweat prickling under your armpits and your heart thudding quickly in your chest. You can feel electric pleasure coursing through you as you press it against your clit, your toes curling into your sheets.

You bring the vibrator lower, your clit throbbing a little at its sudden absence before you press it inside, sighing. It slips inside much too easily – you’re almost embarrassed by the easy slide. You’re so wet, both from your failed attempt at masturbation earlier and from sitting beside Simon fucking Riley all evening. It’s a deeper, subtler pleasure now, and you clench around it with a quiet moan.

You cycle through the vibrator’s different settings, making it buzz at odd intervals or lower intensities in your usual attempt to build up an orgasm. You wish, with sudden and mortifying clarity, that it could be replaced with a person. More specifically, a person with big hands and firm muscles that still have some soft give to them, and a toe-curlingly gravelly voice.

You squirm, shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrator inside you. Without meaning to, you imagine Ghost. It’s hard not to, considering your close proximity to him all evening. Your cheeks heat as you imagine Ghost actually being here, watching you all still and silent with that penetrating dark-eyed stare of his.

You huff out a breath, arching off your bed. This is always the best part. You have to ensure that you relish the build up, before it all fizzles out from between your fingers. You whimper, soft and quiet, clenching around the stiff silicone as it buzzes away inside of you.

Right as you press the soft little vibrating bunny ears to your clit, there’s a knock on the door. Then, horrifically, like a scene from your fucking nightmares, your door opens.

“Kid, you–”

Ghost is already half-way through the door when he lays eyes on you, and then he goes completely still in your doorway.

“Fuck.” You hiss, scrambling to knock the stupid thing off.

You fumble for it, panicking. The end is slippery and you can barely manage to grip it. When you finally do, it’s difficult to pull out, your body still attempting to hold it inside. It’s another agonising few seconds to turn it off, the vibrator unfortunately featuring one of those awfully thought-out designs that makes you have to cycle through every single one of the settings rather than hit an off-switch.

And then, finally, silence.

Ghost is living up to his name right now; he’s as stock still and silent as a dead man, stiff as a board as he stares unblinkingly at you. You’re not even sure that he’s breathing, but you can see the whites of his eyes as he gapes at you, frozen.

You stare back at him blankly, hoping that your bed comes to life and swallows you whole just to put an end to your mortification.

At last, Ghost blinks, then finishes his sentence. “You left your phone.”

He lifts his arm. In his large, thick fist, is your stupid goddamn phone. You must have left it on the couch when you had gotten up to leave. You might have wondered at the lieutenant voluntarily bringing it to your dorm for you, but you’re hit with a wave of humiliation so strong that it wipes your brain completely blank.

“Ah.” You say, and your voice cracks. “Thanks.”

There’s a moment of mortifying silence, and then Ghost steps into your room. Your heart jolts right up into the base of your throat as he closes your door behind him. The click of the door is as loud as a gunshot in the silence that’s settled over the room.

Ghost still hasn’t blinked. He’s watching you with eyes that look almost black in the dim light of your room, intense as a predator.

“I–” You attempt to speak, and your throat clicks dryly. “I didn’t–”

Far too late, you realise that your legs are still splayed open. You snap them shut, inhaling a choked breath through your nose.

“I thought I locked the door.” You finish lamely.

Ghost apparently decides to simply disregard that, which you’re honestly a little grateful for. Instead he steps towards you – the enormous bulk of him feels as though he’s completely filling every bit of space in the room, sucking out all the damn oxygen.

“...‘S this why you were so distracted this evening, hm?” He says as he approaches the bed. “You were in a mood ‘cause you wanted to get back to playing with yourself?”

It’s not a question, exactly. At least, it’s not phrased like one. Ghost’s tone is knowing, with an undertone of gruff amusement. You’re certain that you’re not imagining the rough, breathless quality to his voice either, though the thought sends nerves fizzing through your bloodstream.

“No.” You deny uselessy; it’s plainly obvious what you were doing, after all. “No, I just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish. His eyes are still glued to you, even though your thighs are now pressed together. Before you can stop him, he reaches down and takes a hold of your hot pink vibrator where you had been trying to hide it beneath your thigh.

“Cute little thing.” He comments, tilting his head to look at the dildo hanging between his thick fingers.

Mortification burns through you. A panicked sort of screech escapes you and you yank it back out of Ghost’s stupid big hand, shoving it under the blankets.

Perhaps if it had been anyone else, your humiliation wouldn’t be burning quite so intensely. But this is Ghost – your lieutenant, the gruff man that you’ve looked up to ever since you joined the task force. He’s not a man famed for his patience, nor for his eloquence, which is making this situation all the more unbearable.

“Lt,” You wheeze, scrambling to sit up and cover your pussy with your hands as you squeeze your legs closed. “I swear I didn’t– I’m sorry–”

But Ghost doesn’t seem interested in your apologies. He’s still watching you as though he can see right through the damn blanket, as though he’s measuring you up and trying to come to a decision about something. In that moment, you hate your reaction to him – no matter how humiliating this situation is, you want him to approve of you, even now.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He grunts, and then he sits down on your bed.

You gape at him. It feels as though your brain has stalled; you’re pretty sure you’re not reacting correctly right now. You probably should have screamed when the lieutenant walked right into your room without knocking. That surely would have sent him straight back out again. And even now, you should probably be ordering him out, telling him to leave.

But you don’t.

“I was.. um.. finished anyway.” You manage to croak out. You sound so pathetic that you nearly make yourself cringe.

Ghost doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, his eyes as dark as ever beneath the mask. For a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all.

But then he says, “Didn’t look like you finished to me.”

Blood rushes to your face so quickly that it makes you light-headed as you catch his meaning. Oh, what the fuck. This is just adding salt to the wound now.

“I wasn’t trying to–” You start, then cut yourself off. “That’s not why I was– I was just trying to relax.”

In the ensuing silence, you realise how silly you sound. At the very least, Ghost doesn’t laugh; he just tilts his head to the side, consideringly.

“Let me see.”

You gape at him. “I– sir–”

“Let me see, sergeant.”

It’s not an order. Not quite. Ghost’s voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You have room to refuse. You could tell him to get out of your dorm right now, and he’d do it. Knowing the lieutenant, he’d never bring it up again, either.

You drop your knees apart, spreading your thighs in an unpracticed, self-conscious sort of motion.

Under the lieutenant’s sharp gaze, your skin prickles and your nerves strain. Even sitting down on your bed, he’s a veritable behemoth of broad shoulders and thick corded muscle. His hulking form towers over you even now, and you feel so damn small as you lay there propped up against your pillows in nothing but a t-shirt.

Ghost has seen you naked before, obviously. You can’t afford to be prudish in the military, where you never know when you’ll next have true privacy, and you’ve changed out and showered with the squad countless times. It’s never meant anything, and the men in 141 have never made you feel anything less than comfortable with them.

This, however, is different. This isn’t just a case of catching a quick glimpse of your nude form as you shower in the group shower rooms when you’re out on missions – your whole damn pussy is out on display for him, still glistening wet and sticky from your ministrations and the lube you’d used.

Ghost’s inhale is as loud as a thunderclap. You’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in another person’s presence. You feel a little ridiculous laying like this as he watches you, but another part of you feels so humiliatingly desperate for some kind of approval from your lieutenant.

At first, that approval is nowhere to be found. Ghost is notoriously difficult to read, and you’re beginning to sweat as you lay there waiting for a response – any response.

At last, he makes a noise. It’s part grunt, part hum, and part groan.

“You’re still wet, sergeant.”

Are you imagining it, or is his voice an octave deeper than usual?

Your eyes trace his face, trying to imagine what he looks like beneath the mask. You can see the suggestion of his nose, the square curve of his jaw. His darkened eyes are watching you so carefully that you feel as though you’re physically being pinned in place.

You swallow. “It’s just– I–”

“You didn’t get to finish.” Ghost interrupts, with the air of completing your sentence for you.

You try to speak, but nothing more than a strangled sort of murmur escapes. You swallow hastily, then try again.

“I wasn’t going to. Sir.” You tack on the title at the end as an afterthought, but this whole situation is so far beyond professional that you probably needn’t have bothered. “Finish, I mean. I… I never do.”

You’ve admitted it before you can really think about it, and then you regret it wildly. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve overstepped a boundary, but then again the boundaries are currently so blurred that they’re virtually impossible to discern.

“You never finish.” Ghost repeats it. Slowly, staring right at your face, as though he’s confirming what you’ve just said.

It sounds so much worse in his deep, gravelly voice.

Embarrassment blooms, thick and sickly in your stomach. Your legs start to twitch closed, too embarrassed to be having this conversation with your cunt bared like this, but then Ghost’s big paw of a hand reaches out to settle over your knee, keeping you open and exposed. It’s so rare to see his hands ungloved, and the bare skin of his callous-roughened hand feels almost scorching hot against your inner knee.

“I don’t– I’ve tried,” You say, and you can’t help but feel as though you’re just digging yourself further into a hole, here. “But I don’t– I’m not able to. I mean, I’ve come close, I’m just not able to… you know.”

You trail off lamely, feeling like the biggest fucking loser ever. Why are you telling him this? Why the fuck haven’t you reacted properly, and kicked him the hell out of your room?

Deep down, a shameful little part of you already knows the answer to that. You’re feeling awfully, sickeningly hopeful. Having Lieutenant Riley in your dorm, sitting on your bed and staring so hungrily at the wet, swollen parts between your legs feels like something out of your wildest wet dreams.

His eyes flick towards your pink silicone rabbit dildo, half-hidden under your blanket, and he grunts consideringly before reaching out and taking it into his hands again. It’s standard-size, but it looks small in his big hands.

“You ain’t doin’ it right, then.” He says, so bluntly that you just blink at him. “Show me how you use it.”

For a brief, wild moment, you wonder if you’re experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations right now. Surely you can’t really be experiencing this right now – and yet the lieutenant is still watching you, and you’ve never disobeyed a direct order before.

He hands you the vibrator, then waits expectantly.

And… well. All you ever try to do is impress him.

You shuffle your legs open a little wider, ignoring the flustered heat that scalds your cheeks. You’ve never been all exposed like this in front of another person, and the weight of Ghost’s eyes on you is reminiscent of being under a spotlight.

You swear his eyes darken even further when you press the stiff silicone rabbit dildo to your cunt, if it’s even possible for that gaze to get darker beneath the thick balaclava and eyeblack smeared over the narrow strip of skin that’s visible.

The dildo sinks in so easily that it’s almost embarrassing, and your breath catches both from the stretch and the way Ghost leans in a little closer to see. Far from turning you off, you feel your body throb in response to his proximity, and your cunt flutters pathetically around the plastic toy. You shift, attempting to get a little more comfortable, but you can’t dispel the nerves fizzing in your blood as you attempt to push the dildo a little deeper under Ghost’s sharp gaze.

His big, hulking body is so perfectly still as he watches you that it’s making you a little nervous. The only reaction that you get from him is a small, considering hum, but even then you can’t figure out what it means. Your movements are a little clumsy, so hyper-conscious that he’s watching every single thing you do that you end up fumbling a little. He’s looking at you in the same way he assesses threats, his intense dark eyes examining every movement and reaction you make. It makes you feel small and jittery, especially when you realise that he’s judging you by what you’re doing.

“You gonna turn it on?” He asks, and oh god his voice has definitely dropped lower and huskier. You know you’re not imagining it.

You can’t even bring yourself to respond with words. You just make a strangled sort of sound of agreement, then clumsily hit the on button. The toy buzzes to life once more, and your toes curl absent-mindedly into the sheets as the soft silicone bunny ears pulse against your clit.

It feels nice, but you can’t manage to concentrate on the feeling. Hyper-aware of Ghost’s attention, you let out a quiet moan as you shift the vibrator inside you. It’s a little exaggerated, but you can’t help it – you feel like you should be putting on some kind of a show.

You glance back at Ghost’s face, trying to guess what he’s thinking; even through the mask, you can tell that he’s frowning. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. Have you done something wrong?

“This how you usually do it?” He asks.

You swallow thickly, feeling a bit stupid. “Um.. yeah.”

Ghost grunts. He doesn’t sound impressed.

“No wonder you can’t come.” He says wryly.

You go still, eyes widening. In the silence, the bzzzzt! of your stupid vibrator is louder than ever. A sudden wave of shame washes over you, and you start to close your legs again in an effort to block the sight of the toy stuffed into your pussy.

“Oh,” You snap sourly, your embarrassment making you irritable. “So you’re the pussy expert now?”

That startles a loud bark of a laugh out of the lieutenant, a sound so rare that you find yourself desperately trying to commit it to memory.

“Think I might know a bit more than you, sweetheart.” He says. He’s relaxed now, his wide shoulders rolling back. He’s always so effortlessly confident, always so assured in himself and his abilities in a way that makes you feel like a silly little girl.

Judging by the way the corners of his eyes are just slightly wrinkled beneath the mask, Ghost is smirking at you. He finds this funny.

“What about when you’re with other people, hm?” He asks, and his eyes drop back down to try and get a look at you again. When he realises that your legs are clamped tight together, he reaches out to guide your thighs apart again. “No one’s ever impressed you?”

His hands are big and rough and hot, and your willpower crumbles like wet paper as you allow him to open your legs all over again. The vibrator is still buzzing sadly inside you, mostly forgotten about; the stimulation is nice, but it’s never been enough for you.

You huff a weak laugh. You should have known that this would come up, and now you find yourself floundering a little.

“No one’s ever tried.” The confession comes out like a whisper, like a secret.

You can see the moment Ghost understands; realisation settles heavy over him like a physical weight, and the whites of his eyes flash as they widen just slightly. For a moment, he says nothing at all. He doesn’t move – it doesn’t even look like he breathes.

“No?” He says, except it doesn’t really sound like a question. It sounds rough, and you can feel the almost convulsive motion of his fingers tightening around your knee.

You shake your head wordlessly, beyond embarrassed now.

Ghost’s wispy blond eyelashes flutter softly as his eyes dart down to your pussy, still humiliatingly stuffed with your stupid little vibrator. He takes a moment to stare, then looks back up to your face. He’s so frustratingly confident about everything he does, not an ounce of shame in his posture even as you wilt beneath him.

“Never messed around with anybody?”

“No.” You say, and it comes out on a wheeze. He holds your gaze without faltering, and you realise that he’s expecting you to elaborate. “No, I– it just never happened. I was never… um, I was just always too busy, I guess.”

“Too fussy, more like.” He mutters, quiet enough that it seems like it’s a comment meant just for himself. You don’t know how to take that, so you chew your lip and stay quiet.

His eyes drop down to the vibrating dildo again, and you recognise something that looks like a flash of hunger. It feels like there’s pressure building up beneath your skin, tight and hot, and your thighs fall open a little further. You feel raw and so, so exposed, but you don’t even care when Ghost is looking at you like that.

“Let me try.” He says, the words falling out sharp and harsh as though he they’ve burst out of his mouth before he can stop them. It’s not like Ghost to speak without thinking it through, perfectly calculated, and your breath catches a little at the offer.

How could you ever say no to that? You don’t really think that he’s going to succeed in making you come – at this point you’re pretty sure your body is a little bit broken and you’re just not capable of orgasming at all, and that’s whatever – but the chance to get fucked by Ghost? To lose the lingering vestiges of your viriginity to your ridiculously hot, mysterious, massive lieutenant? It’s like something out of a dream.

“Okay.” You choke out, nodding stupidly. “Yeah.”

You want to be touched. You don’t think you’ve ever actually felt the yearning for physical contact this strongly in your life; you’re practically holding your breath as you wait for Ghost to make a move.

Finally, he reaches out. His first move is to pull the stupid little dildo out of you, still vibrating, and you feel yourself clench convulsively around nothing as he leaves you empty and wanting. He spares it a brief, evaluating glance, and you feel yourself burn as you realise he’s examining how you’ve soaked the toy.

He tosses it to the side, barely even taking the time to switch it off first, then turns his attention back to you. He’s got that same kind of laser-focus he usually only gets out on the field, and you take a moment to feel incredibly grateful that you’re never going to be on the receiving end of that terrifying scrutiny on the battlefield.

It feels like your skin is too tight for your body, every nerve and synapse strained and primed as you wait for him to touch you. But he’s slow about it, as though he just wants to torture you a little bit.

When he finally reaches out to lay his hands on you, he doesn’t touch where you want him to.

His callous-roughened hands land on your hips, and pull you down the bed towards him. In the same move, he half-climbs up on the mattress, his huge form practically dwarfing you. Your head and shoulders are still cushioned by your pillows, but your legs are splayed open around Ghost where he kneels on your bed.

You glance down, unable to help yourself, unable to resist trying to catch a look at the outline of his erection pressing against his trousers, and oh. Fuck. He’s big. You knew he’d be big, of course, he’s big all over, but Jesus Christ, maybe you’re a little out of your own depth here–

His thick fingers tangle in the hem of your t-shirt, stretching the fabric out. “Take this off.”

You scramble to do as he says, grabbing at your top and pulling it up clumsily. You realise a moment too late that you’re not wearing a bra, but you suppose at this point it hardly matters. You drop your shirt to the side, and try not to feel too horrifically self-conscious beneath the burning hot gaze of the lieutenant.

Though you can’t see Ghost’s face, you can hear the soft exhale he blows out through his nose, just faintly muffled by the fabric of his mask. His eyes are trained on your chest, darting between each of your tits as though he can’t decide which one to settle on. After a long moment, he reaches forward and cups your left tit with one of his enormous hands, thumbing absently at one of your nipples.

It’s silly; Ghost has touched you before. Lots of times. A nudge of the elbow accompanied by a conspiratorial eye roll, a clap to the shoulder, rough hands pulling you to your feet after training or applying white-hot painful pressure to injuries. But this – you’ve never been touched like this before, not by Ghost, not by anyone.

The shaky breath you let out as his big, rough thumb rolls over your firm nipple comes out as a strangled sort of moan that honestly startles you a little. The noise catches his attention, and he snorts.

“Can’t be that sensitive.” He mutters, but then he reaches to thumb at your other nipple as though trying to be sure.

It’s because you’ve never been touched like this by another person before, you tell yourself. Truthfully, you’ve never even touched yourself like this before. You’ve never bothered to play with your own tits; you’ve always just gone straight to breaking out your vibrators. Now, with every brush of Ghost’s scarred fingers over the tight bud of your nipples, you think you must have been crazy to skip over this part of yourself. But then again, there’s no way that your own hands on yourself would elicit the same sharp jolt that shoots from your breasts down your spine.

“Sir–” You breathe, struggling not to squirm where you’re laying. You wonder, somewhat deliriously, if it might be rude to demand your lieutenant stuff his thick fingers into your pussy. You can already tell that they’re going to feel so much better than your own.

Ghost glances up at you, his eyes unreadable as he watches you bite at your lip. God, his little wispy eyelashes are so blond—

“What?” He says, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. “Say it.”

“Want to try your fingers.” You breathe before you can second-guess yourself.

The laugh that rumbles out of Ghost’s chest is low and smoky. It’s probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, so big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. You’ve witnessed those hands crack bones and snap necks and break down doors, and yet you can’t help but wonder desperately what they’re going to feel like when he starts touching you properly.

He adjusts himself on the bed; he’s a big man, hulking and huge as he kneels on your mattress, his weight causing it to dip. His palms wrap around your ankles with ease, and he hauls you into place with a grim efficiency that goes straight to your pussy.

“Big brute.” You say, a little breathlessly.

He ignores you, using his arms to hold your legs open and wide for him. And all you can do is just lie there as he stares, because goddamn it’s like he’s been carved from steel and you can’t break out of his grip. Not that you want to break out of his grip anyway, but you’d really appreciate it if he actually got moving instead of just staring.

“Fuck,” He grunts after a moment, with the air of talking to himself. “Been hiding this all this time, huh?”

“Jesus.” You breathe in response, subconsciously letting your legs drop open even more.

He makes a low noise of appreciation, and finally reaches out to touch you properly. One thick thumb swipes through the seam of your cunt, and you feel the way he’s smearing the clear sticky wetness that’s been leaking steadily out of you. With his now slick thumb, he drags up towards your clit and circles it with agonisingly light pressure.

You let out an embarrassing choked whine, your toes curling at the sensation. Somewhat ironically, Ghost is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your attempts, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow.

“D’you always get this wet?”

You can’t even tell if he’s asking you mockingly or if he’s being genuinely curious; it feels like every inch of your focus has narrowed down to the feel of his big thumb rolling those tight little circles around your clit, his touch scorching against you.

It’s not exactly surprising that Ghost is good with his hands. You’ve seen the way he handles weaponry, locking and loading and aiming to fire with the kind of swiftness that comes from muscle memory, working with unwavering speed and precision. He’s the same in hand-to-hand combat, moving with aggressive fluidity that overwhelms his opponents. You’ve caught hits from him before in training, and you know from experience that a punch from those big hands feels like getting hit by a cinder block.

But even knowing how deft and skilled his hands are, it knocks the breath out of you when he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, still rubbing steadily at the swollen bump of your clit.

When you exhale, it accidentally comes out as a moan. Your cheeks burn, but there’s really no space in your brain right now for embarrassment to sink in. Two of Ghost’s fingers are the equivalent of at least three and a half of yours, and you feel yourself break out into an overwhelmed sweat when they twist and rub against the sensitive squishy spot in the front wall of your cunt.

You’re so damn worked up, your arousal coiled like a knot in your lower belly from your failed attempts to get yourself off all day. Your back curves, humping yourself near mindlessly back up into his hand as he plays you like a goddamn instrument.

You barely even have time to consider how unfair it is that Ghost is so good at playing with you like this when he doesn’t even have a pussy himself, because then he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop–” You start to protest breathlessly, your chest still heaving, but the quick glance the lieutenant sends you has you falling silent.

Ghost glances down at his fingers. They’re all glossy from fingering you, and he takes a moment to eye up the way they glisten in the dim light of your bunk. You might have felt self-conscious about it, if you couldn’t see the unmistakable gleam of hungry interest in Ghost’s dark brown eyes.

He wipes his hand on the crease of your hip, but you don’t even get the chance to protest before he reaches up to hook his fingers into his mask. You go still, holding your breath in surprise as he pulls the material up until it bunches up around the bridge of his nose.

And that’s– well. You’ve seen his jaw before, and his mouth (Jesus, you had seen it earlier that evening, when he had been sipping on his smooth whiskey of choice), but the sight of his strong jawline and blond stubble and corded scars on his pale skin always manages to knock the breath out of you. And this time, he’s rolled his mask up even further than before, revealing a nose that’s clearly been broken at least once before.

You probably shouldn’t stare so blatantly, especially knowing that Ghost always takes such pains to keep his face covered. You’re not even sure if the other guys on the team have seen his uncovered face, except for Price, and you know that they’ve developed a habit of averting their eyes when he pulls his mask up for whatever reason. It’s a habit that you never quite managed to develop yourself; you’re never able to stop yourself from gaping at him like a moron, drinking in all of the minutest details. He’s never said a thing about your penchant for staring, so you can only hope that he’s chosen to ignore it.

You’re so busy staring that it takes you by surprise when he grips your jaw with one massive hand and pulls you into a rough kiss.

The sound you make is small and startled, but it’s swallowed by Ghost’s demanding mouth. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but they feel scorching hot against yours. You reach up to grab at his arms – mostly just to ground yourself – but you find yourself almost immediately distracted by the firm bulge of his biceps beneath your hands.

Listen, you’ve kissed people before, plenty times. You’re in your early twenties, and just because you’re inexperienced sexually it doesn’t mean that you’re inexperienced full stop. But this, right now, kissing with Ghost, makes you feel as though you’ve been doing nothing but fumbling your way through all of those encounters, like you’ve been kissing wrong all this time.

It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body until you find your fingers grasping desperately at the short cotton sleeves of Ghost’s t-shirt where it’s stretched over his thickly muscled arm.

Ghost doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. It’s like a full-body experience with him; he puts his hands, his whole damn body into the kiss. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backwards into the pillows beneath you. At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Ghost’s hands running over you, stroking you sides and squeezing at your breasts and groping at the soft flesh of your hips and ass.

“Hah,” You gasp out when Ghost’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you feel yourself grow embarrassingly wetter, just from a little kissing.

“You good?” Ghost grunts into your throat as he nips at the base of your jaw.

“Uh huh.” You manage to get out, still clutching at his meaty arms like they’re a lifeline. “So good.”

His breath is hot on your throat when he rumbles out a deep chuckle, and then his tongue flicks out against your earlobe. It makes you forget how to breathe for a second, and you’re distracted when Ghost’s hand changes course, easing beneath your legs so he can press his fingers against your clit again.

Then he pauses, and his fingers slide lower, lazily hooking back and inside you. You tremble, horny and humiliated as you realise that your arousal is glistening all over your damn thighs, impossible to miss.

“Fuck,” Ghost mutters. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

“Hnng,” You whimper like an idiot as his fingers return to your clit, now slick and slippery. “I’m just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of you again and kisses you hard. The soft breathy noises you make are muffled into his mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically. He’s built like a damn mountain, your thighs stretched wide to accommodate the bulk of him as he settles against the core of you.

He likes that – he presses in close, and you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing up against you through the roughness of his jeans. You’re so sensitive that the coarseness of the fabric is almost unbearable, but you’re able to ignore it because you’re so distracted by the sensation of his erection because holy fucking shit that can’t really be how big he is.

You gasp, the sound high and breathy, and you try to grind against Ghost, but it’s impossible because he’s so fucking heavy and he’s pinning you down on the mattress beneath him. Instead, all you can do is squeeze your legs and pull Ghost in even tighter, increasing the pressure between the two of you.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” Ghost whispers, and it sounds like a promise. He drags his lips up your throat, then talks against the corner of your mouth. “You won’t be able to touch yourself again without wishing it was me.”

The wave of desire that rocks through you almost pulls you under, and you swear you might have actually gotten so horny that you blacked out for a second, because from one second to the next Ghost has somehow managed to muscle his way back down between your thighs so that he’s eye-level with your cunt.

“What are you–” You start to say, but then he loops his forearms under your knees to tug your legs wider, and you realise just how close his face is to your pussy. You swear you’re actually pulsing with arousal, and you wonder a little wildly if he can see that.

“Oh, fuck, yes — please,” You blurt out, before Ghost has even gotten his mouth on you. He chuckles, low and amused. His grin looks predatory, but in this moment you really don’t mind being the prey — not if it means you’ll be devoured by that mouth.

Then Ghost’s mouth is against you, wet and burning hot. You cry out, barely noticing as Ghost throws one of your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open.

It’s just the right side of overwhelming. Ghost’s mouth feels like it’s going to swallow you whole – his tongue is huge and flat and firm as he licks over your clit, making your thighs quake on either side of his head. It’s entirely unlike any of the fumbling masturbatory attempts you’ve ever made – you always enjoy messing around with your various little sex toys, but you’re swiftly beginning to realise that it could never compare to real human contact. Or at least, contact with Ghost.

His hands move from your waist to your asscheeks, his big palms squeezing the plump flesh there before using his grip to pull your body closer so that he can bury his whole face between your legs. The rougher material of his mask presses harshly into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, but you hardly even notice it.

Your pussy has never been this wet before; it feels like you’ve sprung a goddamn leak. You might have felt embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the way Ghost groans against you, his wide tongue laving flat and rough against the seam of your cunt as he practically gulps down all the sticky arousal you have to give him.

“Oh god– fuck! Sir…” You sigh, spreading your knees farther apart so that Ghost can wedge his head further between your thighs.

Your ears burn as your room is filled with sounds of him tonguing at your cunt, the lewd wet squish of him working you over until you’re keening, your hips twitching clumsily until his hands tighten where he’s gripping the plump flesh of your ass to keep you still. Then all you can do is twitch as he licks over your clit in repetitive lapping motions, working in circles and then dipping down to shove his searingly hot tongue inside you. You can feel his teeth press against your labia even as he sucks at your clit, and the sensation sends hot bolts of pleasure rocketing down your spine.

Though you don’t mean to, you’re pretty sure that you make his job harder. You can’t stop wriggling, tossing your head back against your pillows and squirming on Ghost’s tongue in a wild overstimulated dance, like a fish caught in a net.

Finally, Ghost seems to have enough of your unco-ordinated flailing attempts to grind against his face. He reaches around your thigh with one arm to reach your clit so he can keep it stimulated as he gulps at the sticky sweetness of your cunt like a man possessed – the action also works to keep your hips pinned down and still. You stop your frantic moving, but your spasms and sounds increase tenfold.

You can hardly believe it, but you feel something coming. A sweet, torturous build up starts in your belly, and you sweat and gasp as he licks and suckles at you relentlessly. You’ve never found yourself in this state so quickly before, with your legs trembling and your breathing heavy and shaky.

“Oh.. oh…” You breathe, beginning to arch your back.

You know this feeling – this is where that sweet climax builds and builds, only to dissipate at the last agonisingly close moment. But this time, with Ghost’s big head between your thighs as his mouth moves against you, sucking, tasting, eating up everything you have to offer, the breath-taking pleasure doesn’t show any sign of slipping out of reach. It feels like for once you might actually reach that peak.

But then, right as you’re certain that you’re about to tip over that long-awaited coveted release, the bastard pulls away.

“No!” You practically shriek, attempting to sit up. “No, I was so close–!”

“Lie back.” Ghost orders, his voice like the crack of a whip.

You drop back obediently before you can even register that you’re moving, so conditioned to react instantly to that tone of voice coming from Ghost’s deep rumbling baritone. Your eyes are wide and betrayed as you stare at him, admittedly a little baleful.

God, but it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s staring up at you from between your legs like that. His eyes are dark and hungry beneath the mask, and since it’s all pushed up and rumpled around his nose you get a toe-curlingly good look at his lower face. His chin is wet and smeared with your slick, and his lips are plump and pink and swollen from all the kissing and suckling he’s done to you. In a moment of near-delirium, you think that you understand now why he covers his face – his mouth is pretty in a way that shocks you, in a way that needs to be hidden for decency’s sake.

“You’re gettin’ greedy,” He grunts, turning his head and sinking his teeth into the crease of your thigh just to make you yelp. “Wait for it, love. It’ll be worth the wait.”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, so all you can do is lay back and hold on for the ride. He presses his mouth to you again, and you whimper softly as he tongues at your clit.

“No one’s ever eaten you out like this?” He asks, the words muffled into the damp curve of your thigh. It’s stupid, because you know he knows the answer to that is a resounding no, but it seems like he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“No.” You say, your breaths sawing their way out of your chest.

“Hnn.” He makes some kind of grunting sound against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. “That’s why you’ve been so tense, huh? So fuckin’ desperate for someone to touch you?”

“That’s not– ‘m not tense,” You manage to get out, your breasts heaving as your thighs tense up where they’re thrown over his shoulders. “Maybe.. Maybe you’re too relaxed.”

Ghost huffs a hot little laugh at your hip because you both know that couldn’t be further from the truth. You doubt anyone has ever accused Ghost of being too relaxed before, but you don’t have time to feel stupid for it – not when Ghost is devoting the full force of his attention on you, deep breaths huffing against the wet skin of your pussy and making you shudder.

“That’s it,” He croons, his voice uncharacteristically soft and lilting. The rumble of it ripples through your limbs like lapping waves, his battle-roughened palm stroking and smoothing down your ass and thigh as he hauls you closer. “Relax, sweetheart. Fuck, such a pretty pussy. Fuckin’ criminal of you to keep this hidden away all to yourself.” And then, quieter, “Fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet.”

You’re not even sure that he’s talking to you. It seems more as though he’s talking to himself, and it just happens to be you he’s talking about. Your cheeks burn as the feeling of vulnerability sets in, but you keep your legs spread wide as he kisses your clit with his swollen pink lips. You want so badly to be good, for him to be pleased with you, that you push past your embarrassment as best you can.

There’s a budding anxiety in your belly that Ghost is wasting his time here. As much as you crave his touch and the build up, you worry that he’s going to get frustrated with you and your inability to actually orgasm.

But Ghost doesn’t seem to be in a rush. He seems perfectly fucking happy between your legs, and even with his mask all clumsily rucked up around his nose he presses his face into your pussy with his eyes heavy-lidded and hazy. Even when you shift a little in an effort to get him to go a little harder or faster, he just pins you still and continues at his own leisurely pace.

When he reintroduces his fingers, pressing inside and stretching you out with a light sting, you hiss and try to lift your hips again. His rough calloused knuckles brush against the inside of your soft inner thighs, making them quiver as he goes three fingers deep.

“Shhh, atta girl.” He mumbles into you, his words coming out wetly muffled since he doesn’t even both pulling his face back. “Fuckin’– shit, so good.”

The praise shoots liquid and molten through you, and you have to bite back a pathetic keen as you pulse around his fingers. You’re sure he must feel it, because he lets out an answering rumble and laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks.

“Oh god–”

“Shhh.” Ghost scoots forward so your knee can hoist over his shoulder. Then he angles his chin to kiss the skin on the inside curve of your knee as he pumps into you with slow, slippery fingers and ungodly squelching noises that only sparks you hotter. You can’t even tell if it’s sweat or tears dotting your face anymore.

Though Ghost’s eyes are heavy-lidded and a little fogged over, he hasn’t looked away from you once. The focused intensity of his gaze spears you through, because you’ve never been looked at like that. No one has ever seen you like this, no one has ever put effort into you like this, no one has ever been so determined to please you before. You don’t know how you’re ever going to recover from this; you have a terrifyingly distinct impression that he’s going to live up to his promise to ruin you for anyone else.

It feels as though your blood is boiling beneath your skin, and you nearly sob when Ghost pulls back. You’ve never been so close, and you want to scream when he takes his gorgeous fucking mouth away from your clit.

“Fuck.” You wet your lips, realising you were panting like a dog and your mouth is bone dry. “Fuck, Ghost, just—”

“Quiet, lovie.” His reply is hoarse and firm, his throat working hard to swallow as he peered down between you, his clever thumb delving slick circles over the taut bump of your clit, his other three fingers fucking with easy rhythm and purpose. It’s maddening, it’s infuriating, it makes you feel as though you’re about to break apart.

His fingers are pulled out, and then you feel firm pressure pressing into you yet again. Your head lolls as you attempt to sit up, your eyelids fluttering as you realise that he’s pressing your stupid dildo into you again.

“Oh, you bastard–” You start to complain, but Ghost doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak properly.

The dildo slides into you so easily, your sticky slick mixing with his spit making the slide almost effortless. You sigh, a build-up of pressure making your whole body feel as though you’ve been stretched out and pulled tight.

Now that you’ve been pushed to the edge, you linger by it. Ghost keeps you on that edge for what feels like hours, until your breaths are burning in your chest and the ligaments in your calves are screaming from all the straining you’ve been doing. Every roll of Ghost’s thumb over your clit sends sparks racing through your nerves, and your breathing is harsh and uneven as Ghost starts fucking you with the stupid vibrating dildo. The rhythm he sets is firm and unrelenting, pushing the silicone toy in and out and visibly relishing the wet squish of your cunt as it takes it deep.

Ghost huffs against the wet skin of your inner thigh, making you shudder. It seems like he’s enjoying this as much as you are, judging by the subtle roll of his hips against your mattress as he absorbs himself in fucking you with the dildo.

He experiments with the angle, adjusting the dildo until you cry out, jerking against the bedding, and whining “There!”. You needn’t bother telling him, though; Ghost has a sharp eye, and he’s so goddamn attentive. He’s already repeating the stroke, pushing the dildo in and bumping it against the same sensitive spot he had hit before.

It feels good, but it’s not enough. Now that you’ve felt the firm hot pressure of his fingers spreading you wide and the wet hunger of his mouth devouring you, you don’t think anything else will do.

He shifts, you catch the rolls of his hips against your mattress again, and you feel as though you’ve caught fire. You think of the glimpse you had caught of his hard cock, pressing against his jeans and making the fabric stretch taut, and you find yourself speaking without thinking.

Ghost pushes the dildo in once more, and you reach down to grab at his wrist as you ask breathlessly, “Can I try yours?”

He pauses; goes so still that it’s honestly uncanny, his eyes practically boring holes into you as he stares at your face. You grow flustered, your own eyes widening in response to your own words. Just because he’s deigning to touch you with his fingers and his mouth, doesn’t mean he’s actually planning to fuck you. Jesus, he’s your fucking superior officer. What were you thinking?

“I’m sorry,” You squeak. “That wasn’t appropriate. Fuck, forget I said that–”

Even beneath the mask, you can see the bob of Ghost’s Adam's apple as he swallows thickly.

“You sure?” He interrupts your rambling before you can get started. “I don’t... ‘m not good with virgins.”

There’s… there’s so much you could say in response to that. Namely, he certainly doesn’t seem like he’s bad with virgins, as evidenced by the throb of arousal still pulsing through your soaked cunt. He’s just had you sobbing at the mercy of his fingers and mouth, and all he has to say when you ask for more is that he’s not good with virgins?

Instead, what you say is a rather lame, “I’m not technically a virgin.”

Which is true. Sort of. Based on a technicality – you had bullied your damn vibrator through your stupid hymen years ago, and you’ve always thought the idea of virginity was a stupid one, anyway.

“Plastic cocks don’t count, darlin’.”

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed as humiliation burns through you. Jesus, okay. That’s just mortifying.

“Oh, you think your cock is special, then?” You scoff, attempting nonchalance.

Ghost shifts, letting your legs drop from his shoulders, and kneels up on the mattress so that he’s looming over you. Fuck, every time you get a visceral reminder of how big he is, you feel a little faint. It’s like having a veritable wall of muscle caging you into your bed. Your thighs are spread wide to accommodate the size of him, and you find yourself absolutely captivated by the sight of him with his muscles straining against that stupid tight t-shirt, still panting lightly from his greedy gorging on your cunt.

He reaches out and drags a hand slowly from your cunt up over your belly, between your breasts, up over your sternum, to rest over your collarbones. It’s gentle – he doesn’t put an iota of pressure against your throat – but all you can fucking see is the swell of his bicep and the dark ink of his tattoo and the prominent veins running down the chiselled muscle of his forearm.

Good fucking lord.

“You’ll find out.” He says.

And oh. Okay then. Yeah, you sure fucking will.

He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, and you can’t help but strain to try and watch. He pushes them down carelessly around his thighs, but doesn’t make any move to strip them off any further. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re laying on the bed completely nude and exposed, while Ghost has only pushed his jeans down far enough to pull his cock out, but you don’t have any time to feel self-conscious about it.

His cock curves up against his belly, red and twitching. He’s fucking rock hard, and bigger than you had been expecting, bigger than any of your stupid little toys. Your mouth goes dry, and your eyes widen comically. Fuck. No wonder he’s confident. He’s not lacking in any way.

“D’you’ve a johnny?” He asks, one big paw of a hand taking his cock and stroking lazily at it until a bead of pearly precum oozes from the angry red head.

You’re distracted for a moment, staring at the way he fists his cock, before you blink back to yourself. “What?”

“A condom.” He enunciates slowly, as though speaking to someone he thinks is a bit thick.

“I know what you meant,” You snap, embarrassed. “But– no. Why would I? I’ve never…”

You can see the way his eyes crease and realise that he’s frowning beneath the mask, and you’re hit with a sudden bolt of panic – is he going to change his mind now? You can see the hesitation in the lines of his shoulders, but you think if he changes his mind about fucking you, you might just die.

“It doesn’t matter,” You blurt, “You don’t need one. I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

Ghost cocks his head, but remains still. It’s almost unnerving, and you feel your toes curl into the bedsheets as you wait for an answer. He looks fucking predatory, hulking over you like a fucking behemoth as he watches you assessingly. You try your best to look confident, but you have a feeling that you just look desperately hungry.

He reaches up and hooks his fingers into the fabric of his mask and pulls it back down to cover his still slick-shiny mouth and jaw, and you’re gripped with sudden overwhelming panic and dismay that he’s changed his mind, that he’s about to leave you here wet and empty and wanting. In that moment, you throw your dignity into the wind.

“Please,” You beg pathetically, wriggling a little bit against your sweat-damp bedding in an effort to grind yourself against him. “Please, please, it’s fine, I swear, you don’t need one–”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost grinds out, his voice rough and a little hoarse. “How can a virgin be such a fuckin’ slut?”

Some part of you wonders if you should be offended by that, but instead a frisson of heat runs down your spine. You know you’re not a slut – you’ve never searched for any sexual attention, and you’ve never even experienced someone else’s touch – but goddamn you want to be a slut for your lieutenant right now.

Despite his harsh words, when Ghost hooks your legs over his hips and aligns himself with you, he’s gentle. He’s acting like you’re something fragile; he’s so big that your legs are spread wide around his waist, his shoulders so broad that he’s blocking out the dim light from your lamp, and yet his touch is light against you as though he’s afraid to break you.

He’s still gripping his cock hard, and he slides the tip of it against your slick heat. You have a brief moment of alarm; even through the haze of arousal, you can recognise that this is going to be a tight fit. You breathe deeply, then begin to wiggle your hips in an effort to take him inside you.

He hisses, then one of his big hands grabs at your hip. “Fuck, stay still.”

“Put it in.” You beg, your voice coming out thick and stupid-sounding. “Fuck, please, c’mon, c’mon–”

“Kid,” Ghost bites out through clenched teeth, his voice low and gritty. “Need you to shut the fuck up for me.”

You manage to bite down on your lip, but you can’t stop yourself from pouting mopily at him with wide, wet eyes. You don’t understand why he’s making you wait – can’t he see how mean he’s being? You’re so fucking wet, so empty as you clench down on nothing, and your clit is so desperate for any kind of stimulation that it’s throbbing needily. The head of his cock catches at your opening, dipping in for a second before resuming its maddening slide up and down.

Ghost is still watching you closely, his brown eyes flickering from where the head of his cock drags through your sodden folds up to your pleading pouting expression. You can only imagine what kind of a sight you make, because his chest growls with a choked sort of groan.

“I know,” He murmurs, almost mockingly soft with you. “I know, you want it. Gotta give it to you slowly.”

You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to give it to you slowly, that he can go as fast and hard as he wants to, but some sense of self-preservation shuts you up. Instead, you nod clumsily as he rubs his cock over the slick folds of your cunt, lubing himself up with your own arousal. The feeling of his cock dragging over you, iron hard and velvety soft, so close to where you want it, is enough to have your head spinning dizzily.

You want to beg again, but you’re still trying to follow his order to be silent. You shift restlessly, biting back a whimper when he taps his cock thoughtfully against your clit.

Finally, he decides to put you out of your misery.

The thick crown of his cock pushes against the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your cunt, and the gasp you let out is positively punched out of you. He goes slow, just like he promised, but you can still hardly believe it. He goes in and in and in, and yet he’s somehow not even halfway inside.

“Fuck,” You wheeze, punctuated by a strange little yowl. “Oh god, wait–”

You feel stuffed just from the first few inches, drunk already on the quiet little grunts he’s making. The stretch and the sting and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him and you can’t even decide if it’s good or if it’s too much. Your eyes are hot and wet as overwhelmed tears begin to overflow, and you find yourself arching in a weak attempt to flex away from him and the devastating stretch.

God, he’s massive. You knew he would be, of course, but his size seems so much more significant when you’re being impaled on the end of his cock. Fuck, you can feel your vision go blurry as your eyes fill with overwhelmed tears. You’re mortified when a sob is ripped from your chest, harsh and thick.

“Shh, shh.” Ghost coos, his deep voice syrupy thick as he leans over you, the enormous bulk of him caging you into the mattress until your whole world consists only of him. “Just a little bit more.”

“Fuck,” You choke out, trying to arch away again but failing because he’s so big that there’s nowhere to go. “It’s not gonna fit!”

“Shh, lovie,” He rumbles, ducking his face down so that the rough cotton of his mask is pressed against the sweaty skin of your neck. “Relax’n let me in.”

“I– ‘m trying–” You whine, clutching at his biceps. “Jesus–”

You blink your eyes open, vision blurry from the tears clumping your lashes together, only to be met with the sight of Ghost’s deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath the black mask. He’s looming above you, his gaze made all the more intense by the fact that it’s the only part of his face you can really see.

“All that messin’ around with those plastic cocks, but you’re still this tight for me,” He says, his voice so deep that you feel it reverberate into your bones. “Deep breath.”

The breath you inhale at his instruction is rough and ragged, and he snorts a low breathless laugh in response.

When he finally drives his cock all the way in with one smooth stroke, all the breath is driven from your lungs. It feels as though his cock has been pressed all the way up into your chest, and the noise you make when you squirm on it is utterly pathetic.

Ghost’s hands are like steel clamps when they close around the plump flesh of your thighs, holding them up and pressing them back until they’re pressed against your belly. He looms over you, still almost entirely clothed as sweat beads over his thickly muscled neck. It’s like getting pinned down by a mountain, and you whimper as you’re speared open and prone by the weight of Ghost pressing down upon you.

He hasn’t even started to move yet, but you still feel overfull and raw.

“Too big,” You mumble, struggling to catch your breath. You choke on a sob and feel your eyes burn with unshed tears as your back arches. “Ghost–!”

“Shh.” He grunts. “Call me Simon when I fuck you.”

That… that does something to you. Molten heat rockets up your spine and pools in your belly, and you swear your pussy floods. It’s stupid, how being granted permission to call your lieutenant by his first name is somehow so much hotter than anything else he’s done so far.

“Simon,” You try it out. It comes out a little shaky, your voice little more than a weak whisper, but you swear you can see his eyes sharpen.

Apparently having come to the decision that you’ve adjusted enough, Ghost pulls his hips back only to drive back in.

“Oh!” You yelp, hips jumping, but there’s nowhere to go.

All you can do is lie there as he slides out, out, out, slow and careful and long, and then his hips snap forward and he impales you, pressing all the way into him. He does it again, and again, and you try to bite down on your tongue, try to not sound so pathetically wrecked, but you can’t. It’s like Ghost is puncturing your lungs and every time he fucks into you, you let out the most pathetic little mewling ah ah ah sounds.

You’re not quite prepared for how different this feels; it’s nothing like your stupid plastic dildo. Ghost’s cock is bigger, but it’s also hotter and with more give than you expected, and you’ve never been able to fuck yourself like this. Your plastic toys could never compare to the sensation of being pinned by your giant of a lieutenant as he ruts into you.

Ghost reaches up and roughly pushes his mask up so his mouth is exposed again before he leans in deeper, almost folding you cleanly in half, stretching in to claim your mouth in a kiss that’s not quite a kiss, but rather a fierce mash of lips and tongue as his rhythm picks up, riding you down into the mattress until you realised the screaming noise isn’t coming from either one of you, but the cheap standard issue bed frame.

All you can do is gasp with each deep, raw fuck. There are tears tracking lazily down your cheeks, having overflowed from your burning eyes, and you honestly think your lungs might collapse. You’re bent like a fucking pretzel, in a way that’s making the muscles in your thighs scream, as Ghost pounds into you.

He’s fucking relentless, but also shockingly aware of you beneath him. He doesn’t put too much pressure on you when he holds you, he never goes hard enough to hurt, and he knows just the right amount of weight to pin you down without being too much.

Your pussy is sloppy around him, wet squishing noises getting louder and louder as he finds more rhythm against your tight walls. Your whole world of awareness has been narrowed down to Ghost and Ghost only; his fingers digging into your thighs, your name in his mouth, his sweltering body pressing against yours.

He’s holding back, you can tell by the way his voice is caught in his throat. He’s keeping all his dangerous muscles at bay as he pulls out and presses in again. Rough, fast, but not enough to break you, just enough to make you scream until you bury your face to the side and try to cover your mouth with your arm.

“Yeah, you needed this,” Ghost grunts, his uncovered mouth nipping at the hinge of your jaw. “This’s why you were so fuckin’ distracted earlier, hm? You thinkin’ about how much you needed to cream around a real cock?”

“Uh huh, yeah,” You slur out, not even sure what you’re agreeing with. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, every nerve in your body raw and sparking. You must sound so pathetic, but Ghost seems to like it.

“Ain’t gonna be distracted anymore, are ya?” He rumbles, laving his tongue over your jaw in a way that feels filthy. “Just needed your little pussy filled, that’s all.”

You cry out for him because you can’t help it, delight bubbling in your throat every time he plunges into you. He keeps his pace for a bit, all rushed and blazing, transfixed on watching you suck him in, leaving slick trails along his shaft. But gradually he gets bolder, more desperate, big hands squeezing from your thighs to your hips.

You get lost in the feeling of him in your belly, searing and harsh, fat tip rolling against the spongy spot inside of you until you feel like you might snap. You feel him in your ears, your head pounding with every snap of his hips. You swear you even feel him in your toes, lightning zaps of pleasure down your nerves.

Then he leans back, lifting his weight off of you so you can breathe properly. He leaves his hand on your collarbones like a placeholder, his palm spread over the base of your throat like a reminder, a way to keep your attention on him.

“Fuck,” He grits out, “That’s it, doll.”

You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Ghost’s gaze has shifted, no longer focused on your face but now instead fixed firmly between your legs as he watches the thick shaft of his cock sink into you. He obviously likes how you feel inside; you can hear him cursing and grunting quietly as his free hand grips your hip for leverage.

With his mask rumpled up around his nose, you’re gifted with an incredible view of the way his teeth are sunk into his lower lip. Each time he sinks his cock into you again, he makes a raspy little groan, eyes fluttering briefly shut. It’s so painfully endearing that your heart quivers in your chest.

Your legs burn from being spread around his thick waist — any attempt for you to lock them around his back is useless, your legs slipping everytime his ass flexes with his thrusts. Every hasty drive of his hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time he ruts into you. With every sudden movement you feel the entirety of his fat cock; the veins are throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. Part of you marvels how you’re even able to fit him inside you.

“Never seen you look like this,” he grunts. “All fucked-out and perfect.”

Ghost leans in again, grips your legs so he can rearrange them over his shoulders, and you think you might die. The angle is different and somehow, impossibly, Ghost is fucking into you even deeper. You think you might actually be crying. There’s no question as to whether you’re drooling.

Your hands move to his arms, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his triceps as you cling on for dear life. He doesn’t even seem to notice the sting of your nails scratching him; or perhaps it only urges him on, because his movements take on an edge of desperation.

“Gorgeous girl,” He grits out, jaw clenched. “Squeezin’ so tight. Fuck. Gonna make you cream.”

You had forgotten about his promise to make you come, too lost in the hazy pleasure of his cock. But now it seems as though he’s been seized by the compulsion to fuck you to the edge; he reaches a hand down so that his thumb can join the fray, and it startles you into moaning breathlessly aloud.

His thumb is merciless against your clit. You’re vulnerable to his touch, clit spread and on display from the stretch of his thick cock inside of you, and he takes full advantage. His fingers are thick and blistering hot as he rubs at you, and you choke as your toes curl.

“Simon–” You manage to eke out before you lose the weak thread of your thoughts, scattering into nothing as he stimulates the stiff bead of your clit.

He grunts to show that he’s heard you, but he doesn’t seem any more capable of words than you are as he rocks into the cradle of your hips. You’re practically blinded by your wet eyes, blinking frantically to try and clear your vision as you reach out clumsily to throw your arms around Ghost’s blisteringly hot neck.

It feels as though your skin is stretched too tight over your body, hot and prickly and too much. You’re trembling, your breaths coming in shaky gasps as agonising pressure builds in your lower belly.

“Fuck, love.” Ghost says, his voice little more than a snarl. “You gonna come?”

No, You think hazily. No, you never come. But even as you think it, part of you recognises that it’s never felt like this before. Your stomach tightens, toes curling, your lungs burning, your eyes rolling. You hardly even know what’s happening.

You recognise that something is building, but it almost seems secondary to the way that Ghost is rutting into you like a man possessed, hitting that spongey spot in the back of your pussy that you’ve never managed to reach yourself and making your legs spasm every time even as his thick thumb rubs frantic circles around the bump of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck–” You wheeze, bucking your hips against him.

It doesn’t grow and dissipate in the way you’re used to. Rather, it creeps up on you almost without you noticing, until you’re whimpering and clinging to Ghost like he’s a lifeline. Your bottom lip trembles as you sob weakly, practically on the brink of diving into an oncoming tidal wave of desire. Then that coil in your stomach snaps like a rubber band, sudden and sharp as a slap to the face.

Your back arches, your vision whites out, and you cum so hard that the world stops, your ears ring, your body goes limp. Your cunts sucks tight around him, pulsing, feeling every inch of him. It feels so sweet, that white-hot buzzing pleasure rushing over you and wiping your brain completely clean.

You’re a little delirious from being stuffed with such a fat cock; every thrust just prolongs your pleasure, like his penetration keeps you from squeezing your very first orgasm out right away. It’s mindless ecstasy, your nails burrowing into the skin of his biceps as you desperately clutch at him for some kind of leverage. Ghost doesn’t falter, his hips continuing to work into you, wringing your orgasm out until you feel as though your brain is melting.

You sob – an actual, genuine, wet-sounding sob as your chest heaves for air and your eyes burn with overwhelmed, rapturous tears. Your head is spinning even as your climax subsides, leaving you limp-limbed and weak as Ghost continues rocking into you.

“Look so lovely when you come, sweetheart,” Ghost grunts into your ear, his bulky chest weighing you down as you clutch feebly at his shoulders. “God, that’s a sight. All for me, yeah?”

His praise only makes it worse, makes your eyes sting until there’s tears down your cheeks and stars behind your eyelids. He sounds so smug, but you can’t deny that he has reason to be. He’s the first man to ever touch you, first man to ever fuck you, the first person to ever tip you over the edge and wring an orgasm out of you. Fuck, you think your brain might have been reduced to mush permanently; you wonder wildly if you’ll ever be the same after this.

Despite the sting of Ghost’s punishing thrusts into your already oversensitive cunt, your body sings for him. The rhythm of his hips is getting gradually sloppier, as though he doesn’t care as much for precision now that he’s succeeded in making you come. Soft, guttural little grunts fall from his mouth, and his arms wrap around your waist to reposition you so that he can fuck quick and shallow. It’s almost tender, as though he’s aware of your growing sensitivity as you mewl under him.

There’s a profound, instinctual pleasure in seeing Ghost lose himself in your embrace. His dark eyes are heavy-lidded and his mask is still all rucked up, revealing the way his mouth is lolled softly open as he pants. You find yourself wishing feverishly that he had taken off his clothes too, because you think you would give anything to watch the roiling muscles of his chest and shoulders as he ruts into you.

Then just when you think you’re beginning to recover from the shattering, mind-numbing oversensitivity, Ghost comes inside of you.

He stops rutting to ride out his orgasm, his cock throbbing, pulsing, spurting inside you until you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt. And he comes a lot.

You’re stuffed so tightly with his cock that his cum has nowhere to go, and ends up leaking thickly from where your cunt grips around him, messy and hot and spilling over your thighs and his. The sound he makes is breathless, all open-mouth and head lolled back as he groans, blissed out as he finds release in your cunt.

The minutes afterwards are a blur.

You close your eyes for what feels like only a second, but the next time you blink your eyes open you find yourself feeling miserably, uncomfortably empty and sticky as all that oozy cum leaks out of you. You somehow missed Ghost pulling out of you, and your thoughts are muzzy and embarrassingly slow.

For a moment, you think you’re alone. You’re becoming more aware of yourself, and you realise that you’re shivering weakly alone in your sweat-damp sheets. Where did Ghost go? Part of you, still a little hazy, wonders if he had left you alone as soon as he had come, and you feel your lower lip tremble at the thought.

God, you feel pathetic. You shift feebly on the sheets, and suck in a sharp breath when you feel the ache inside you, proof that you’re going to feel the shadow of Ghost’s cock for days. You feel drunk off the afterglow, yet you’re swiftly becoming more and more aware of yourself and all the aches and pains that are coming to the fore now.

It feels like you’re too big for your body, and you’re clumsy when you try to sit up. Pushing yourself up makes a whole new set of aches light up, and you let out a quiet keening grumble.

You’re so caught up with trying to ground yourself that you jolt in surprise when big, paw-like hands land on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. “Shh, hey, lay down.” Ghost says, the rough edges of his accent softened. To your bewilderment, he has a damp cloth in his hand; he went to the bathroom, you realise hazily.

Maybe it’s just because you feel raw after your experience with him, pulsing like an open nerve, but you sniffle and blink and then suddenly there are tears dripping down your face.

“Thought you left.” You mumble, trying not to sound like a needy little idiot.

Ghost glances up at you, unblinkingly. His mask is fixed firmly back in place, and he looks annoyingly put-together; it’s an embarrassingly stark contrast to the way you’re still nude and shivery and teary-eyed.

“No.” He says simply.

The damp cloth is warm when it makes contact with your skin, and you relax as he drags it along your sweaty back and over your legs. He’s a little rough about it, but you don’t think it’s on purpose. Gentleness doesn’t come naturally to Simon Riley, and yet you can feel that he’s trying and that makes a warm glow settle in your stomach, replacing the cold anxiety that had settled in when you thought that he had left you alone.

When the cloth reaches the tender skin of your pussy, you hiss and try to pull away. It all feels too sensitive, and you feel your face crumple up as he wipes away the mess of slick and cum between your thighs. He gentles his touch as much as he can, but you still mewl at the electric zaps of oversensitivity that jolt up your spine.

When Ghost pauses and pulls the cloth away from you, you blink your eyes awake. Your vision is still all wet and blurry from tears, but you can still see the shape of Ghost as he stares down at you. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, even after having been cleaned up, and Ghost’s stare is burning.

You wonder if he’s about to leave now – you can recognise this whole thing had gotten out of hand, and you just about manage to stifle the panic at the creeping realisation that you’ve just fucked your superior officer. Ghost must have realised at this point that the two of you had just ripped through all those fraternisation rules, though it’s always been difficult to tell what he’s thinking. But you trust him – you have to, in your line of work. You have to trust that he’ll handle things.

Ghost tosses aside the cloth, and his big overbearing body climbs back into bed beside you. It’s a standard-issue bunk, and yet it feels comically tiny when Ghost has been added to the mix. He’s surprisingly agile, even despite his big size, and you barely have time to realise that he’s joining you in bed before he’s wrapped a thick arm around your middle, hauling you closer.

You’d love to act chill and cool about the fact that he’s now essentially cuddling you, but you miss the mark by a long mile. You take a breath, and allow yourself to relax into his big burly chest. He’s still fully clothed, and the rough texture of his jeans against your tender bare skin makes you shiver lightly from oversensitivity.

Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, your joints weak and watery, and you’re perfectly content to close your eyes and forcibly ignore all your concerns about fraternisation or how you’re going to face Ghost in training. It’s a problem for another time.

“You still alive?” Ghost grunts, and his palm coasts down over your back to settle at your ass, his fingers squeezing absent-mindedly into the soft flesh there.

He sounds amused, which makes you grumble in irritation. He takes up so much space, his big body filling up all the free space on the bed and making you feel so fucking small as he holds you so that your back is pressed against his stomach.

“I dunno,” You mumble, words a little garbled. “Think… think you might have fucked me stupid, Lt.”

Lying like this, with his front pressed against your back, you can feel his laugh rumble into you. He’s touchy too in a way that surprises you; his hands are constantly moving, swiping over your sides and groping at any part of you that’s squishy-soft.

“Think I might have,” He agrees, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “But I think you needed it, sweetheart. You were practically cryin’ out for it all day.”

You feel your face heat at the insinuation that he had noticed the arousal you thought you had hidden so well. But you still feel so fuzzy inside, and you can’t manage to drum up any genuine reaction.

Ghost’s roaming hand slips down between your legs, and you hold your breath as he reaches your swollen, tender pussy. His fingers are so big, but he’s aware of his strength and keeps his touch light, cupping rather than groping, his calloused palm catching on your puffy clit.

“Told you a real cock would be better,” He rumbles, and you feel the soft material of his mask rubbing against the back of your sweaty neck. “You’ve got a fussy little cunt – ‘s only gonna be satisfied by the real thing.”

You’d love to jab back at him, but the feeling of him rough palm against your oversensitive clit has your thoughts fizzing out into nothingness. All you can do is let out a quiet little whimper, and rock your hips into his touch. To your utter bewilderment, you feel your arousal, which you had previously considered entirely sated, pulse back to life.

As if Ghost can feel your cunt throb beneath his hand, he snickers. “Yeah. Fussy and greedy.”

He leans down, and you feel his lips brush against the back of your neck through the cotton of his balaclava. You quiver, and part your legs without conscious thought to give his thick fingers more room to work. Despite your exhaustion, and your soreness, and your sensitivity, you find yourself wanting. You wonder, with an edge of hysteria, if your body has somehow managed to rewire itself to only accept pleasure from your commanding officer’s hand.

“Ghost– Simon–” You breathe, your hips jumping as you grind into his palm.

“Yeah,” He says again, as though he knows exactly what you need and want. “One little orgasm wasn’t enough, was it?”

“No.” You choke out, throwing your head back so that it’s resting against Ghost’s broad chest. “No, ‘t wasn’t.”

You can hardly believe that your body is winding up for more, but Ghost’s touch is searing hot against your tender skin, and you can already taste the pleasure he’s going to bring you. This time, without the edge of urgency, you think you might even enjoy it more.

“Gimme five minutes,” He drawls, his voice low and muffled in your ear. “And I’ll give you your second.”

#ahem... hello 🥺👉👈#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod mw2 smut #simon ghost riley x reader #cod fic #simon riley smut

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

17K notes · View notes

nanaslutt · 5 months

Note

pls super nasty smut w todo where we are his favorite idol 🙏

Todo FUCKS and i know it………

contains: fem reader, fanboy!Todo, protected sex, quickie, hair pulling, dirty talk, rough sex, backshots, dacraphillia, using panties as a gag :3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Todo had been waiting for this moment his whole life.. he was finally going to meet his idol. The large man stood behind a group of shorter guys, all giggling as they watched you hug a sweet-looking fan. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, he was so close he could smell your perfume. Just the annoyingly giddy group of boys in front of him and it would be his turn.

He had gone over this exact moment over and over in his head. You looked so pretty in your light pink dress, frilly thigh highs to match, that squished the fat of your thighs at the top, making his eyes roll back in his head in disbelief at how anyone could look so perfect. Todo had been a fan for years, he had watched every show you had been on, every special, he had seen every magazine, poster, and any form of media there was of you he had seen; he would like to own all of it but his collection was quite impressive already.

"Thank you for your support!" You spoke kindly, averting your body to shake hands with the boys instead of hugging them. You could tell he looked dejected, but the boy smelled like BO and you had noticed his lock screen when he went to take a selfie with you-- it was of a young-looking anime girl in a bikini.. not exactly the kind of guy you wanted up in your personal space, but by the way he gripped his hand and stared at it in awe when he walked away you could tell he was more than satisfied.

You sighed, growing tired from meeting all the fans, sure you loved seeing all their cute faces and tears of appreciation, some even bringing you gifts, but you had been standing in the same spot for almost five hours now, the heels you were wearing felt like they were slowly melting into your feet and becoming one with the skin. You looked over to your manager, keeping a faux smile on your face as you did so, but widening your eyes to let her know you were going to cry if you didn't get a break soon.

"U-um, H-hello my name is Todo Ali Its-" A deep voice broke you out of your silent plea to your manager, snapping your neck to behind you a man more than twice your size stood in front of you, fiddling with his hands in his pockets as he took everything in. You knew you had quite the male-dominated audience, but this man didn't fit the description for your usual fans.

He was handsome, extremely fit; so much so it looked like his pecs were going to burst through his shirt and you could faintly make out the indents of his abs; he smelled amazing, which was refreshing after all this teen boy musk, his voice sent tingles down your spine, and he hadn't immediately tried to touch you in some way when he stepped into your space. "Hi there big guy~" You responded, reaching your arm out to grab onto his bicep, stroking it friendly (also simultaneously trying to cop a feel.)

Todo blushed, you were touching him right now, not just touching him you were stroking his arm. He had to take a deep breath in order to not pass out. "I've been a fan for so long when I found out you were coming to Kyoto I-" Your giggles cut him off, your sharp acrylics lightly scratching down his arm as you pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and took it in yours; you couldn't help but notice how much larger it was than yours. "I'm so glad you came Todo~" You cooed, swinging your hips in circles as you looked up at him from under your lashes.

Todo froze, his face turning an even darker shade of crimson. He gulped, watching you caress his fingers with your smaller, more delicate ones. You were so much shorter in real life, the size difference between the two of you was making his brain short circut, and simultaneously all of the blood that was being drained from his head was getting sent to.. another head. "Y-yeah?" He replied, giving you a quick one over before he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth.

A lightbulb went off in your head at that moment. This was a handsome man who looked to be about the same age as you, he looked like he could bend you in every way your body would allow him to, and you bet he wanted to, from the way he was blushing and shaking with adrenaline. He must've thought he was being sneaky when he would steal glances down the low cut of your dress that showed off a generous amount of your cleavage.

You're not sure where this sudden arousal came from. Maybe a combination of being an idol with such a strict team; never allowing you enough time to go on dates; your exhaustion, you were on your ovulation week.. and Todo had been the first person you saw today who was handsome AND didn't try to invade your personal bubble in some way; combined with all the other amazing things about him. You were about to go on a break anyways, this might just be perfect, you thought.

"Yeah~ It's so refreshing to see someone like you here, you're so handsome and you speak so politely ~" He felt his pants get tighter at the compliment, briefly looking down at them he prayed you wouldn't see the imprint through his pants. You looked around, making sure no one was close enough to hear before you leaned it, standing on your tippytoes you used one of your hands to steady yourself on his solid chest. Taking the thin material of his shirt between your fingers, you pulled him down so your lips were by his ear.

"To be honest, a lot of these guys are sooo creepy~" Todo could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips, the loud beat of his racing heart almost drowning out your sultry voice, "But you would never treat me like them.. would you Todo?" The man was sure he was at full attention down there, he tried to adjust his shirt subtly enough so you wouldn't see him while you were by the crook of his neck, but he was sorely mistaken. You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from covering the now very obvious tent in his pants.

From what you could tell, the outline looked huge, what about this man wasn't? You smiled at him, tipping your head to the side. "I've never done this before, but I think I like you Todo~" You spoke. The world seemed to slow down, everything around you besides your voice was drowned out in the man's ears as you spoke your next words. "I'm about to take a little break, wanna help me relax?" Todo swallowed, hard, before nodding his head and watching a sinister little smile appear on your face.

"Fuck f-fuck Ohm-" A massive hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your loud cries. "Shhh pretty girl, stay quiet for me okay? Know you can." Todo cooed. Was this really the same man who was blushing and stuttering just a couple minutes ago when you finally met for the first time? He must've imagined the exact scenario before because he was fucking giving it to you.

Todo stood behind you, your back to his chest, arched agaisnt his pelvis as he fucked into you harder than anyone has. He had one hand wrapped around your body, rubbing your sensitive clit between his fingers and his other hand was pressed over your mouth. One of your hands was steading yourself agaisnt the sink ledge, the other gripping his wrist as you looked at him with teary eyes and scrunched eyebrows through the little bathroom mirror he was fucking you in front of.

Your panties had been pulled down your thighs hastily and stored away safely in Todo's pants. "That's a good girl~ Fuck, you look so pretty." He groaned. You watched his eyes look down between where the two of you were connected, shaking his head and his jaw dropping in a little o as he watched his thick cock split you open, your sore walls having to make quite the stretch to fit him inside. "Your pussy is eating me up-" He moaned, pulling his lip between his teeth as he gave you harsh thrusts, relishing in the loud squelches that met his ears.

"You needed this, huh?" He asked, bringing his eyes up to make contact with yours once more. You nodded against his hand, tears of pleasure falling down your face at the precision with which he was fucking straight into your sweet spot, making your legs feel like jello. Todo let up on your clit, his hand digging in his pocket briefly before he pulled out your panties. His hips stilled against your ass, burring his cock as deep as he could inside you as he released the hand on your mouth, brining the other holding your panties to meet your lips.

He balled them up before pressing them agaisnt you, "Open." He instructed. You were quick to follow, opening your mouth you let him press the fabric between your lips, the taste of yourself flooding onto your tongue when he used two fingers to push the fabric deeper into your mouth, making sure you would keep in in. "Good girl." His deep voice praised, making you giggle against the fabric. You were able to notice when all the motion from his thrusting ceased that he was shaking like a leaf.

You were wondering how he was staying so calm and composed, but in reality, he wasn't all that composed. Todo was grateful for the short break when he pushed your panties into your mouth; using them as a gag so he could use his hands elsewhere. Truthfully every time he looked into the mirror and caught your eyes on him he felt like he was going to cum, it was a miracle he was able to hold out for this long. The only thought keeping him going was not to embarrass himself in front of you, but god the though of cumming inside his favorite idol was right there on the forefront of his brain with it.

He pushed your lower back down into a mean arch, your forearms resting against the sink as you waited with bated breath for him to continue. He knew you didn't have a lot of time, so if he was going to bring it home soon he was gonna make sure you had the best orgasm on his cock before you went back out there. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, gripping strongly before he started fucking into you again, this time rougher and faster than before.

Immediately cries and muffled wines filled the room, more tears quickly welling up in your eyes as he bullied his cock into your tight cunt, yanking your head back by your hair to make your arch deeper. Surely he was messing up your hair, and your makeup would absolutely need a touchup, but you couldn't exactly find it in yourself to care at the moment. Todo's groans and heavy breathing into your ear was so erotic, making the coil in your stomach tighten with your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, I can't believe I have you on my dick like this." He breathed exasperatedly, his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure. "And you're crying from it-" He finished, yanking your hair back, resulting in a loud wine from you, the fabric doing little to conceal that one. "Todooo~" You spoke his name through the fabric, the sound successfully reaching his dick, making it jump inside you. Todo grit his teeth, without a second thought he released your hair and ripped the panties out of your mouth, throwing them down on the sink.

He grabbed the side of your face, not letting up his incessant hips as he fucked into your sloppily, his hips losing rhythm, "A-again say my name again-" Todo begged against your lips, your skin grazing each other as your slack jaw moaned against his mouth. "F-fuck Todo!!" You cried, resulting in a groan from the man as he pressed your lips together, slotting his tongue with yours in a messy kiss, filled with lust and need. "Again." You heard him speak against your lips, his thrust speeding up, you felt your own arousal drip down your thighs.

"Todo-" thrust "Again." thrust "Fuck! F-fuuck! Todo I'm cumming, you're gonna make me c-cum!" You gasped into his mouth. He quieted you with his own, his moans increasing in volume as his own high rapidly approached him. At the exact moment, your jaw went slack against his lips as he felt your cunt squeeze him rhythmically, his own orgasm crashed over him. "C-cumming- f-fuck-" He pretended his cum wasn't currently filling up the condom he had on, and instead was shooting deep inside you, filling up your womb.

Your legs were shaking and wobbling as you came around him, his shallow thrusts working you through one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had. Todo groaned long and loudly against your lips, both of your jaws open and eyes squeezed shut as the two of you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasms together. The room was filled with your pants and gasps as the two of you frantically tried to catch your breath. "Fuck.. thank you, did so good, thank you," Todo whispered.

You turned your head forward once more, staring at Todo behind you, who currently had his eyes glued to your cunt as he slid his massive softening girth out of the comfort of your warm walls. You winced in overstimulation as he slid out of you, leaving your walls with a lewd squelch. "Sorry, are you feeling alright?" He asked, holding your hips in his large hands and rubbing the skin there. "I'm more than alright Todo, my legs are a little compromised but other than that I'm alright~" You reassured, rubbing your hand atop his, making his blush deepen.

The man looked back down between the two of you as he started pulling the used condom off of his cock, cringing at the feeling. "Todo." Your voice echoed into his ears, making him look up at you, blushing at the use of his name--he would never get sick of it. "I'm not leaving this room till I have your number in my phone." You said, picking up your cutely decorated phone from the sink in front of you and waving it side to side.

You've never seen someone nod so eagerly in your life, making you giggle. "Need to take care of you first." He said, kissing the back of your neck, throwing the tied condom in the trash by his feet before his hands started to make work on smoothing out your wrinkled dress. "Todo, I have an entire team out there for that, you can take care of me by putting my mind at ease and letting me know that this will happen again, by giving me~ your phone numberrr~" You drawled, turning your body around as he held your hips, your hand pressing the device into his chest.

The man hesitantly took your phone in his hand, staring at you with disbelief. You leaned into his large frame, pressing a kiss to his solid chest and making him gasp before you pulled back, bringing your hand up to his head to push away any stray hairs he had, "I like you, you better call me~"

4K notes · View notes

animeismyhappyplace · 3 months

Text

The Devil's Salvation

Synopsis: Lucifer's heart is hurting due to the recent extermination. In an effort to help shift some of the pain Y/N, his assistant, attempts to distract him with her body.

Set around episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel.

Word Count: 5K (5,930)

Trigger warnings: 18+ only!!!

Boss/employee relationship, power imbalance, biting, marking, hickies, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, brief oral (m.recieving), sex on furniture, cowgirl, dick riding, possessive language, cursing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweets, dear), fluffy ending, some Dom/sub/switch undertones, descriptive sex scene, Lucifer is a total cutie, some very minimal angst directed at extermination day rather than the characters.

The sky in Hell is dark and bleeding red as another extermination comes to its gruesome end.

Lucifer is slumped over his desk with a sour expression on his face as he throws one of his rubber ducks across the room "another year, another fucking blood bath" he grumbles to himself as he hears footsteps coming to his invention room.

He hears a few knocks as a soft voice breaks the silence "it's over Lucifer, can I come in?" His assistant Y/N asks quietly.

Lucifer's red eyes light up as his mood perks up "of course dear! Come in, come in~" He leans back in his chair, letting loose a small yawn scrunching his nose as he does.

He glances at the rubber duck laying on the ground, and then back at the woman in front of him "what brings you to my office?.." His voice remains soothing as he finally looks at her properly for the first time that day, she's wearing a red dress shirt with a matching striped skirt pretty similar to what he is wearing ‘cute, very cute’ he can't help but think with a small smile. Her dog-like ears flat against her head as she bows to him.

"I wanted to check on you sir, I know extermination days are taxing on your health" she frowns as she takes in his appearance, his hat has been placed on his desk, his staff nowhere to be seen and his eyes have large bags under them.

Lucifer gives out a soft chuckle, before putting one hand to his temple "yes, yes thank you for your concern, my dear. You are right, these kinds of days can be exhausting to say the least"

He glances at her noticing her ears still firmly pinned to her head so he tries to offer a small smile but it doesn't seem to work very well, she can see right through him.

"It's reassuring to know that someone cares about me in this shit hole, you're truly the best assistant I could ask for”

A small blush settles on her cheeks and her ears perk up a little as she shakes her head dismissively "it's my job to worry about you sir" she chuckles softly almost under her breath.

"As per usual for this time of year I've cleared your schedule so you have no commitments for the rest of the day" she's smiling as she speaks but Lucifer notices her brow is furrowed ever so slightly.

Lucifer raises his eyebrow, taking notice of the sour look on her face.

“Your concern is appreciated, and I’m grateful to have you by my side"

He pushes himself forward in his rather large chair and sighs.

"It’s nice that you cleared my schedule for me... I need a rest”

His tone remains soft with a subtle hint of affection, but his attention is captured by your worried expression.

"What’s wrong?" He asks in a soft tone.

Her eyes slide off to the side focusing on one of the mountains of rubber ducks, she sighs as she collects her thoughts before looking back at his scarlett eyes.

"The head exterminator, Adam, has made contact sir and he wants to meet. Wouldn't tell me why though" her brow furrows again more deeply this time as anxiety sinks into her heart.

Lucifer frowns as he processes the information.

"Adam made contact?" He takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

"And... he didn't tell you why?" Lucifer's voice has a slight hint of suspicion, and his expression turns more serious as Y/N shakes her head solemnly

"No, he refused to answer my questions, just said "arrange the meeting bitch" and flew off with the others" her nose crinkles in disgust as she thinks back to the arsehole angel.

Lucifer grunts in frustration as he stands up from his chair.

"That man sure is arrogant... but this is rather suspicious” Lucifer strokes his chin, pondering this sudden event.

"I'll take care of it, no need for you to worry~" Lucifer offers a reassuring smile and a gentle pat to her head, although the frown on his face shows a hint of his frustration.

Y/N starts to speak but thinks better of it as she watches Lucifer pull out his phone while walking into the hallway.

He comes back a few minutes later and explains that his daughter Charlie will be taking charge of the meeting so she can pitch her hotel to the angels. Y/N nods in understanding as he speaks.

"I'm sure she'll do brilliantly sir" Y/N smiles and Lucifer can't help but smile back at the young assistant, and chuckles at her words.

"Charlie will do great," Lucifer agrees "She's certainly more than capable of handling the meeting"

As Lucifer talks, he starts to pace around the room, his gaze distant as he thinks to himself.

The young woman tilts her head to the side slightly as she watches her boss "what's on your mind sir?" She presses gently, taking note he seems more lost in thought than usual.

Lucifer's eyes trail back to his assistant.

"I'm just thinking, my dear. It's strange that the head exterminator would make contact as opposed to showing up at the doors" Lucifer's brow was still in a puzzled expression.

Without much detail he continues to speak, sounding more concerned "It's.. not a great sign.. something's wrong, I feel it in my bones..”

Y/N walks towards Lucifer and takes a hold of the cuff of his pearly white jacket gently.

"Please stop worrying sir, I'm sure Charlie will do fabulously at this meeting and you'll know soon enough what Adam's plans are. Please sit and rest"

She pleads as she gently guides him back to his chair. Lucifer's eyebrows raise at her sudden action, but his eyes warmth and comfort as she urges him to sit back down.

"You're right.. I'm just letting my depression get the better of me HA HA” he tries to fake a laugh but it's hopeless, and walks back to his chair, sitting down.

There is a long stretch of silence, but he gives her a charming smile, offering one last glimpse of comfort.

“Thank you, my dear”

"of course sir, let me get you something to drink"

She bows as she leaves his study to find something to calm his nerves

Lucifer leans back into his seat, the tension slowly receding as he waits for her to come back. He glances at the rubber duck still lying on the floor, and rolls his eyes with a small chuckle. Despite his efforts to stay calm, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about this whole predicament.

Y/N returns quickly with some tea "this should help soothe some of your worries sir" she smiles as she pours him a cup of the warm beverage. Lucifer nods, his smile growing as he sees the cup in her hands.

"Thank you, my dear. You know, you're very perceptive of my needs.. I'm quite lucky to have you as my assistant" he says as he takes the cup from you.

She smiles brightly while nodding "I should hope so Lucifer sir, I've been working for you pretty much since I arrived in Hell"

Y/N clears away some of the papers scattered across his desk, keeping them safely to the side so as to not potentially spill tea on them.

Lucifer chuckles as he takes small sips of the tea, his eyes taking in the details of her movements as she clears up his desk.

"Indeed you have, you've been the best assistant I could ask for.."

Lucifer's tone is much warmer now, and he takes a big sip before continuing.

"Although I suppose I've never asked, how long have you been here in Hell in total?”

"Only a few years now but I guess it's not so bad down here, especially since I get to work for you" she smiles as she holds the tray the tea was on to her chest waiting for him to finish up. Lucifer's cheeks heat up as smiles, taking a few more sips and finishing up the tea.

"Well... I suppose I can't argue with that, especially when you say it so sweetly" Lucifer chuckles, brushing his hand through his golden hair.

"It's good that you feel right at home here. I'll admit, Hell can be a bit... overwhelming when you first get here”

Y/N clears away his used cup and places it off to the side as she's cleaning up she notices him walking up to a large window, looking down at the carnage left behind by the angels with a deep frown set into his usually delicate features.

"Sir?" She asks softly as she sees his shoulders tense up.

Lucifer pauses at the window, taking in the destruction as the bodies litter the streets.

His mood seems to have shifted dramatically from his previous lightheartedness, as his expression becomes very serious.

He glances back at Y/N, taking notice of her concerned glances.

"Hm?..." Lucifer says, his tone sounding rather calm "oh, it's nothing. Just.. observing, is all.”

Y/N sighs sadly before joining him at the window to see what he's looking at and when she does, she understands.

She can see the devastation left behind, sinners dead bodies piling up, the streets ablaze as overlords fight for new unclaimed territories. She can see the weight it leaves on his heart.

"This was never what I wanted you know all those years ago" he sighs but doesn't look at her, even with his attention fixed outside she can see the hurt swirling in his usually shining eyes.

Y/N lifts her hand tentatively to Lucifer's back in an effort to comfort him, even if it's only for a moment.

Lucifer turns his focus from the carnage back to the younger woman, and is caught slightly off guard by her sudden and kind gesture.

Lucifer’s red eyes are full of sorrow as he looks back at her, the weight of his burden clearly settling on his soul.

As her hand rests upon his back, he finds himself calming down, almost as if just her touch was enough to soothe some of his suffering.

"you can't blame yourself sir, you couldn't have known what would happen" ears twitching as she frowns at his pained expression, rubbing slow circles against his back.

Lucifer sighs sharply, leaning his back against her hand as she calms him with soft circular motions.

"You're right, I couldn't.. but I still do..." Lucifer mutters, his voice sounding much softer now.

There is a brief moment of silence, where he appears to just absorb the comforting warmth coming from her touch.

"That's a lot of weight to carry... even for a king" her hand stills on his back for a moment as she pulls away moving back towards his desk away from the window.

"I have a feeling things are going to change, very soon sir. Thanks you and your family" Y/N smiles as she rests against the edge of his desk.

Lucifer’s eyes dart over to her as she steps back and leans on his desk, his smile returning slightly at her optimistic words.

"Yes, I have that feeling too...."

Lucifer mutters thoughtfully.

"But regardless of what comes, I hope that you will always be here by my side, helping me carry whatever weight the future holds..." Lucifer says, his voice sounding slightly solemn yet also reassuring.

"You're my king Lucifer, I will be here as long as you desire" as silence slips between them Y/N clears her throat before speaking again "I'd say you use a distraction right about now sir"

A sweet and genuine smile touches Lucifer's lips as he raises an eyebrow.

"A distraction?.." Lucifer's voice is

playful as the gears start turning in his head.

She hums sweetly as her fingers drum anxiously against Lucifer's desk her eyes on his carpeted flooring "well Lilith has been gone for years now, you've been alone all that time"

Her eyes flit up to look at him "you must have been so lonely sir, you should look into fixing that" she watches for any changes to his body language with a barely hidden smirk.

Lucifer takes a moment to digest her words letting out a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.

"You're being rather bold my dear..."

Lucifer smiles softly while shaking his head with his eyebrows raised and a blush spreads across his pale cheeks

"Ah.. well.. I've not been entirely alone now, have I?..." His tone is playful, but she can feel the flirtatious nature behind them.

She bites her lip while smiling "you're right Lucifer, I've been right here"

She bats her eyelashes at him acting as sweetly as she can whilst pushing herself just off the edge of his large desk "and I'll always be right by your side sir"

As she bats her eyelashes at him he chuckles, a blush deepening his cheeks slightly.

There's a brief pause as his eyes scan over her body, taking notice of the cute way she's leaning on his desk. He speaks coyly back at her.

"Is that so?"

"Tell me dear, if I... needed someone to lean against.. would you be ready?”

Y/N leans forward to grasp his hand gently so he could pull away at any time "haven't I already shown I'm ready to stay by your side?"

She looks into his eyes as she tugs on his hand prompting him to come closer "I know how much Lilith leaving hurt you but I wouldn't do that ever"

Lucifer's heart skips a beat as he watches her take his hand, tugging him inches closer.

It takes him a moment, but Lucifer gently pulls her closer, until she is right in front of him, their bodies almost touching.

His breath catches as his eyes stare back at her doe like expression, he can't quite believe how cute she looks right now, her nose almost touching his own. Lucifer pauses, and glances down at her lips. His eyes flicker from her lips, and back to her eyes.

"You really won't, will you..?" Lucifer mutters quietly, sounding a bit breathless.

"The sweetest sinner in all of Hell" he almost whispers with a smile as his hands cup her face, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her cheeks

His tenderness shocks her though it really shouldn't for how long she's known him and she closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying their closeness and his tender touches

Her hands sneak up to his red striped dress shirt, pulling him ever closer bridging the gap between their bodies. Her lips stop just short of his own, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath.

She looks into his eyes and waits for him to decide if he really wants this, wants her.

Lucifer's heart almost stops as she pulls him close, his mind spinning rapidly making him dizzy as he realises how long it's been since he's felt affection like this. His eyes fixate on her cherry red lips, watching as she gets so close he can feel her body heat. He hesitates for a moment as he worries what will happen if things go wrong but he leans forward needing to take this risk.

Lucifer closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers. He kisses her so tenderly as though she'll break the second he lets go, and his hands grip her body tightly, pulling her even closer.

Y/N's hands grip Lucifer's waist as his hands move to pull her face closer, deepening their kiss.

Her chest is heaving slightly as he kisses her with more passion than she's ever felt, leaving her breathless.

Her cheeks are a deep shade of pink when Lucifer finally pulls away, she giggles as he bites his lip red irises watching her intently

Lucifer's breath is still staggered as he pulls away from her lips, red-faced and blushing. He pulls himself away from her, as a light-hearted grin spreads across his cheeks.

His eyes glance down to her lips, and his brows raise.

"It seems my assistant has gotten a bit too familiar with me~..." Lucifer teases with a playful smirk.

She gasps pushing at his chest playfully while giggling at his teasing words "who in Hell could blame me when my boss looks like this"

She bites her lip as she intertwines their fingers pulling him towards the lavish chair seated behind his desk, she gestures for him to sit as her hungry eyes rake down his form.

Lucifer chuckles as he allows her to pull him towards the chair. As he sits down comfortably, he notices the way she's looking at him and he smiles, his golden eyebrows raising up in a flirtatious manner. He gives her a playful wink.

"You're a real handful, my dear.. I hope you know that?”

She smirks as she climbs into his lap, licking her lips as he lets out a surprised grunt "oh I'm counting on it sir"

A sly smile forms on Lucifer's face as he glances up at her.

He lets out a little laugh, amused at her boldness. His hands trail softly up and down her sides, his fingers tracing little circles against her skin as he bites his lip muttering with a grin "fuck sweetheart you're going to be the death of me”

Y/N shifts slightly once in his lap, wiggling her hips as she gets comfortable, looping her hands around his neck as she steals his lips in another kiss.

Her tongue licks over his bottom lip as he hungrily accepts her affections.

Lucifer's body immediately responds to her touch, his entire frame heating up as she kisses and nibbles softly at his lip.

His fingers tighten around her hips, pulling her closer, and his other hand trails her body from her hips all the way to her neck.

Lucifer pulls back ever so slightly, his breath staggered, feeling as if he might melt from the heat rising between them.

"You're lucky I don't get visitors often sweetheart, who knows what vicious rumors would be spread if you were caught in my lap" Lucifer mumbles in between kisses.

Y/N's kisses trail across Lucifers lips to his rosy cheeks then down to his jaw as she starts nibbling at the delicate flesh "I'm sure you'd find a way to silence them"

Hearing Lucifer's sinful groans, her hips start to gently rock back and forth as her tongue laps at his neck, sucking harshly in the places that make his groans deepen.

Lucifer's breath catches in his throat as his back arches slightly with every gentle kiss. Just the feel of her breathing heavily against his neck drives him crazy, the heat rushing through his body and spreading like a fever.

He bites his lip to prevent himself from letting out any more noises, his head lolling back slightly as she sucks on his neck. A breathy groan escapes him without notice, as his breathing grows more rapid, his cheeks redder.

"f-fuck I need..." He whines as his hands fly out to grip steady onto her hips, grinding the growing tent in his pants up against her.

Her skirt starts to ride up as his body jolts from the stimulation, her breaths leaving her throat in hiccups as she feels him poking at her inner thighs.

"L-Luci~" she moans breathlessly, her hips stuttering as he rubs against her clothed core.

Lucifer's jaw muscles tighten as he grips her body tighter, almost going mad listening to her sweet sounds.

Her voice sounds like a soothing melody to his ears, and he can't hold himself back any longer. He begins to kiss her throat, and even licks the skin between her neck and shoulder biting softly.

Y/N whines as he teases her body, lolling her head back to give him more space to mark her neck and shoulder.

Lucifer pulls back once he's satisfied with his work eyeing the claim he's laid on her body. Her breath catches in her throat as he lifts her from his lap onto his desk.

"My dear, I dare say you've never looked more divine than you do right now" he bites his lip as she's laid out before him, her chest heaving and her legs spread as he slots himself between her thighs.

Y/N runs her fingertips along the edge of her skirt before she starts to slowly and teasingly tug it upwards revealing more of her body to her king.

Lucifer watches her slowly and teasingly tug your skirt up with interest. His eyes trailing up her body, taking in every inch of her skin as she reveals more of herself to his greedy eyes.

A breathy groan escapes him at the sight as he grips the meat of her thighs tightly. Spreading her legs out as he licks his lips at the damp patch on her underwear a low whimper escapes his throat "you'll surely drive me mad, sweetheart"

He utters softly, as a blush spreads across his cheeks. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips. Her cheeks heat up at his sultry words making her whine in embarrassment and hunger "Luci please"

Her hands reach out to grasp at this forearms, gripping tightly as she tries to wiggle her hips looking for some attention to be paid to her heated skin.

Lucifer's mouth twitches at the pure desperation in her eyes, his hands trailing up and down her legs before moving back to the top of her thighs to her thighs. He gives them both a quick squeeze, drawing her attention back towards him.

His soft whispers carry a hint of playful teasing.

"Pretty desperate for my attention huh?" Lucifer asks in a low voice as his red eyes watch her reactions carefully.

She nods helplessly as her eyes fog up with unshed tears, his teasing touches pure torture as his fingers leave heat and desire everywhere they touch.

"N-need you to do something, anything... Please baby" she pleads as her arms reach up above her head to grasp at the edge of his desk.

Lucifer bites his lip, and he can't help just how much her words excite him... her hunger is so apparent, so raw, and the way she begs for what she wants does nothing to help the problem in his pants.

He leans in closer, his eyes darting to her neck and jaw before he quickly dips his head down, his mouth placing a short peck of a kiss just above her collarbone.

His kisses continue down her body until he reaches the band of her panties. He gives her one firm look, as if to say ‘tell me know if you need to stop’, but she shakes her head and lifts her hips, wiggling them teasingly making him smirk.

"Who knew my soft spoken assistant would be so greedy?" he mutters with a smile as his thumb pushes into the wet spot on her panties making her gasp at the sudden stimulation. Enjoying her reaction he moves his thumb up slightly to rub against her clothed clit, grinning widely when her thighs tremble.

"This is what you wanted right sweetheart? wanted my fingers to play with your cute little pussy?"

Her head nods aggressively as she bites down on her tongue to stifle the wanton moans waiting to escape.

She can't help but rock her hips forward against his hand wanting more, needing more as her skin feels like it's been set alight with passion and desire.

Lucifer chuckles softly as he watches her squirm under his touch, licking his lips as he feels her slick coat his thumb.

"Ah ah ah, you need to use your big girl words if you want something from me" he grins wickedly.

"Need your fingers Luci" she pouts cutely when he raises his eyebrow at her.

A smirk spreads across his pink cheeks as he pulls her panties down her legs and throws them off to the side, sucking in a breath as he admires her naked body, wetness and need shining across her skin "Yeah? where do you need me hmm?"

A stray tear streaks down her cheeks as she whines "n-need your fingers in my pussy, fuck please Luci! I-I need-"

Lucifer grins wickedly as he watches her squirm under his gaze, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip of her nose then to her cheek and he even places a soft kiss on her fluffy ears before straightening back up. He smirks at her desperation, sliding his fingers into her dripping pussy and grinning widely as she lets out a shaky moan.

Y/N's head lolls back and her eyes roll as she finally gets the stimulation she needed, whines tumbling out of her strained throat as her hands turn white from her gripping so hard at his desk "f-fuckk..."

Lucifer watches her closely, his fingers curling inside her wet heat, relishing in the way she squirms and begs for more.

He leans down once more, his lips brushing against her neck as he murmurs, "Talk to me sweetheart... Tell me how good I make you feel?"

His fingers curl upwards his thumb swipes across her clit making her almost cry as the pleasure wrecks through her shaking body.

Her thighs shake as sweat starts to pool against her forehead, her hips bucking wildly at the onslaught of pleasure Lucifer is giving her "I- you- fuuck so fucking good, love your t-thick fingers Luci”

Lucifer chuckles softly, pleased by her response as he starts to move his fingers in and out of her wet pussy faster, his thumb continuing to tease her clit with feather-light touches.

He can't help but lean down to place another kiss on her collarbone. His teeth graze along the soft skin, eliciting a shiver from his lover.

Y/N's sweet moans and the wet squelches of her abused pussy fill the quiet room, a strangled cry leaves her chapped lips as his fingers bump a spongy spot in her tight walls, he almost stops his movements as the realisation hits making him chuckle "Theree it is, that's the spot yeah sweetheart?"

She rocks her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers as her moans pitch up in volume, she can't help but babble as the pleasure builds "there.... fuck d-don stop" another desperate whine "gonna cum... fuck! fuck! FUCK!”

Lucifer smirks as he watches her lose control, her body arching off the desk in search of more pleasure. His fingers curled deeper inside her, finding that spot again and again as he relished in the power he held over her.

Her eyes roll back as her walls clamp down on his fingers, his thumb rubbing tight circles over her throbbing clit until her high slowly ends.

Her breathing is erratic as her high tingles over her limbs before slowly ebbing away leaving her body limp, when her eyes can fully focus she sees Lucifer slurping up the wetness coating his fingers.

The sight alone is so sinful it sends fresh waves of need flooding through her veins as her hands reach out for him.

Lucifer grins mischievously, watching her every move. He licks his fingers clean with a soft moan, savoring the taste of her on his tongue.

"You're irresistible," he murmurs, his voice rough with need.

She gently guides Lucifer down to sit in the plush chair "your turn baby~"

Y/N licks her lips as she sinks to her knees before him, running her hands over his strong thighs. Slowly moving her way up until her fingers hit his pristine white belt, she discards it off to the side of the room as she works on pulling down his suit pants, smiling sinfully as she notices the wet spot soaking through his boxers.

Lucifer groans softly as he feels her hands on him, his cock twitching in anticipation. He watches her with hooded eyes, a mix of desire and possession in their depths. Her thumb rubs over the wet spot making his hips jump at the sudden pleasure.

"You like making me cum on your fingers this much Luci?" she grins as she flicks her tongue over the wetness moaning softly at the first taste of his pre.

"I love seeing you so submissive, it drives me wild," he answers, his voice deep and husky. He watches her hungrily, his eyes locked on the sight of her teasing his cock “and those cute little moans you let out? Truly sinful baby”

She hums to herself as she pulls the suffocating materiel down his legs joining the growing pile on the floor, her eyes widening as she takes in the size of his cock for the first time mumbling more to herself than to him "such a pretty cock”

His eyes squeeze shut tightly as her delicate fingers reach out to explore his body, her pink tongue licks up the length of his cock so suddenly it makes Lucifer suck in a breath as he groans "definitely going to be the death of me sweetheart... f-fuck~"

His cute reaction makes her smile and raises her confidence. This time she flattens her tongue, rolling it over his slit taking the time to lick up all the precum drooling over his cock head, moaning as it coats her tongue and bottom lip.

Lucifer's breath hitches at the sensation, his hips jerking forward almost involuntarily. He bites his lip, trying to keep control as she lavishes him with her attention "such a good fucking girl f'me"

His soft grunts and groans raise in volume as she starts to suck on his swollen heads, flicking her tongue over his slit as her hands pump his length "f-feels too good baby... You gotta stop or I'll cum too quick, wanna cum in your pretty little pussy"

She giggles but concedes giving him one last long lick up the length of his cock following the thick veins she finds before she allows him to lift her onto his lap.

Once settled she gives him a deep passionate kiss tasting herself on his tongue as his hand dips between their bodies to line himself up, rubbing his cock over her clit once then twice before finally sinking into her tight pussy.

Lucifer's hands grasp her hips tightly as he feels himself sinking into her wet heat, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He groans deeply into their kiss, his tongue dancing with hers to muffle their sounds of pleasure.

He holds her hips tightly in place as he fills her up fully "y'gotta stay still for me sweets or I'll finish right now 'kay?"

She nods as she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on it as she adjusts to his massive size.

Her body shakes as his thumb rubs on her swollen clit making broken moans slip from her throat as he suddenly thrusts his hips upwards making them both groan " 'kay you can move now, you gonna ride me pretty girl?"

Her arms loop around his neck as she starts to slowly lift up then sinking back down so he's filling her to the hilt. After a few slow movements her desperation increases, finding a place to steady both of her feet she starts to bounce on his cock, the angle making his head hit her sweet spot with every thrust.

Sweat starts to coat both of their half naked bodies, pain starting to set into her limbs but the pleasure he's giving her is too good for her to break, her head falls back and his hands grip her waist tight helping her to rock up and down at a steady rhythm.

Lucifer's hands tighten on her waist, one sliding down to the small of her back while the other grips the flesh above her ass cheek as she rides him.

He groans deeply, watching as his cock sinks into her tight walls with every movement and rocking his hips in time with hers "love this tight little pussy~ could have been fucking you like this for years if I'd known how well you take me sweetheart"

Y/N preens at his praise, doubting her efforts. Her throat constricts with every moan but if feels so good she couldn't care less "need you to keep fucking me Luci, love your cock sooo much feels too good”

Lucifer's eyes glow a dark red with lust as he looks up at her, one of his hands sliding up to grab her breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples between his fingers the other dripping lower to play with her clit, drilling his hips up into her dripping pussy "I'm not stopping until you cum on my cock sweetheart~”

The pleasure he's giving her is too much for her spent body, her thighs start to shake as the coil tightening in her stomach threatens to snap "yes yes yes Luci baby shit!~ m'close so fucking close" her walls start to calm down on his cock.

"Fuck" he grunts, his thrusts becoming jerkier and harder as he feels her start to tighten around him "Come on sweetheart, let go~ need to feel you cum on my cock~"

He gives her two more powerful thrusts, mumbling words of encouragement in her ear nibbling on her earlobe.

"that's it pretty~ look how your walls are clamping down on me, I'm fucking you so good your body won't let me pull out"

Gasps fall from her lips like the most unholy prayers as her body stills the pleasure flooding wildly through her veins, shaky moans tumbling from her lips as she cries his name over and over until she can barely speak any longer.

Lucifer's thrusts match hers, pounding into her as he feels her walls start to spasm around him. He groans deeply, his own pleasure starting to build as he watches her cum hard on his cock.

He can't help but whine loudly as her orgasm triggers his own, his body shaking as he dumps his load into her quivering walls crying her name as he holds her tight to his body.

Lucifer places soft kisses on each spot of her skin he can reach as she comes down from the high, she returns his affections leaving purple and red blotches down his neck and the along his jaw wanting to show all of Hell her handy work, possessiveness shining in her eyes as she watches his blissed out face.

Lucifer smiles softly at her, his eyes filled with pure adoration. He nuzzles against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to her collarbone.

He hums lowly in his throat, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as he leans in to nip at her neck gently.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs, slowly pulling out of her body and readjusting so they're more comfortable.

"You're truly mine, aren't you sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice husky with tiredness.

Her fingers reach upt o cup his face gently as she looks into his eyes "for as long as you'll have me, sir" she winks cheekily at him placing kisses along his jaw hiding her heated cheeks.

Lucifer chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down her sides to soothe her sensitive skin.

"That's my girl," he breathes out before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow deep kiss, lifting her body into his arms to carry her to his bedroom.

Beautiful banner by: @/saradika

2K notes · View notes

hs-is-loml · 8 months

Text

Married to Who. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Famous!Wolff!Reader

Summary: y/n and her husband have been so private that fans would've never thought she was married to an F1 driver of all people or when fans are starting to make connections and figure out who y/n's husband is

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Alycia Debnam-Carey

Warnings: like 4 grammar mistakes in the twitter threads + some comments accusations/insinuations of cheating but that's because they don't know charles and reader are married...

a/n: this took longer than i expected but hope you all enjoy!

all translations of french/spanish come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 1,621,936 others

yourusername all of these pictures were from before summer break, and you can tell why they need a mid-season break from each other...

tagged carlossainz55, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and charles_leclerc

view all 146,571 comments

carlossainz55 great picture of charles and i, chica (girl)

→ yourusername yeah sure, great...

→ y/nstan i love her

protectthewags y/n and her husband always takes the best soft launch pictures

→ thef1wags soft launch? they've been doing this for the past 3 years 😭 they need to hard launch.

→ y/nforlifeee her husband is the strongest soldier out there when she's around all these hot men

lewishamilton roscoe and i didn't make the cut this time...

→ yourusername my past two posts have been literally about you and dad at the last race😀

→ roscoelovescoco we's can'ts beelieve you's

→ mercedes8time not lewis using roscoe's account to come after y/n for not including him in the post

danielricciardo didn't know max was into that kind of stuff

→ maxverstappen1 you enjoyed it, don't lie

→ yourusername maxie, sweetie, look at his face. the man was in pain

→ liked by danielricciardo and 309 others

charles_leclerc mon ange... what is this (my angel)

→ yourusername it's an appreciation post, cha

→ carlosconfusion the nicknames>>

→ f1circuittrack how is her husband okay? more importantly is y/n doing okay? because i would leave my partner too if charles leclerc ever called me, mon ange

yourusername has posted a story

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted a story

instagram

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by landonorris, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 1,791,938 others

charles_leclerc she's real, guys😅 well, i hope she's real or i've been with casper for the last 5 years...

view all 201,963 comments

arthurleclerc maman said she doesn't know how your wife is real either or more so how you managed to convince her to marry your ass

→ charles_leclerc maman did not say that.

→ arthurleclerc you're right, she said she doesn't know how such an amazing girl got with a buffoon.

→ ferraritearss WIFE???

→ partytotheafterparty HIS WIFE? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WIFE?

→ paddoook no way this man has not only a girl but is MARRIED to her😀

worldchampionsisaid man is fighting for break on and off track after the imaginary girlfriend rumors on twitter💀

→ thatonebakucorner he was quick to correct them too

→ f1propstand he's over people thinking he's that delulu after the resigning of his Ferrari contract...

carlossainz55 i will never understand how she deals with you 24/7 or your cooking. oh, wait, she cooks when you guys are home

→ liked by arthurleclerc and 410 others

danielricciardo nope. she's totally a ghost.

→ f1memes not daniel gaslighting him😭

lilymhe aww! tell her i miss her and love the nails!!

→ 16crying55laughing lily, tell us what you know

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, susie_wolff, and 1,361,590 others

yourusername perfect timing for our summer break photo dump

tagged charles_leclerc

view all 201,319 comments

charles_leclerc mon amour, je t'aimais alors, je t'aime maintenant et je t'aimerai pour toujours ❤️(my love, I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you forever)

→ yourusername i have loved you since the first time our eyes met

y/nforlifeee i've never seen two people that compliment each other so well

→ y/nsidelove their kids are going to be so beautiful

susie_wolff safe travels, sweethearts!

→ yourusername see you, dad, and jack soon🤍

landonorris honestly, i don't know how people didn't figure it out sooner

→ maxverstappen1 yeah, these two are like rabbits

→ carlossainz55 i share a hotel room wall with them half the season. i'm forever scared

danielricciardo no, you're definitely casper the ghost

→ yourusername i will block you💀

→ danielricciardo i wonder why that reply was invisible?

leclerc_pascale tout mon amour pour vous deux❤️ (all my love for you both)

→ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 651 others

scuderiaferrari our favourite girl with whoever that guy is!

mercedesamgf1 mini boss with lightning mcqueen🙈

→ charles_leclerc we're not starting this again.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc social media au #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc headcanon #fanfic #fluff #social media au

6K notes · View notes

yxngbxkkie · 6 months

Text

baby fever (b.c)

this man needs to chill because i can only take so much 😭 ngl, this is probably the most i've written in a while, and i'm really glad to provide some cute fics for you guys 🩷 i hope you like it!

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Do you have everything?” Chan asks you while unloading the rental car.

You take a peek into the back seat of the car, making sure both of you had everything. “I don't see anything,” you reassure him.

Chan walks towards your mother's house, presents stacked in his hands. You gently rub his back as you walk up the steps. You knock a couple of times before opening the door, announcing your presence.

“My baby's home!” Your mother's voice reaches your ears, causing you to grin ear to ear.

You give her a quick hug before making sure Chan gets into the house okay. You shut the front door behind him and rest a hand on his forearm.

“Do you need help with anything?” You ask him, moving to grab a couple of the gifts.

“I got it, baby,” he reassures you with a head shake. He leans down to press a quick kiss on your lips before walking over towards the Christmas tree.

You giggle to yourself, gently biting your lip after he walks away. Your mother nudges your arm, snapping you from your thoughts. You lift your head to look at her, seeing a smirk on her lips.

“When's the wedding?” She jokes with you.

A groan leaves your lips as you start to feel embarrassed. “Not for a little while,” you tell her with a shy laugh. Your gaze finds Chan, silently watching him distribute the presents. “I don't even know if he wants to marry me.”

She lets out a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Honey, that boy is infatuated with you. He'd be crazy not to marry you.”

“We'll see where life takes us,” you mention, the smile on your lips growing when you meet your boyfriend's eyes.

“I want to be the first one to know if he does propose,” your mother whispers into your ear as she walks by, joining everyone in the kitchen.

You playfully roll your eyes, keeping yourself from blushing. Chan gives the older woman a quick hug as she walks by before making his way back to you.

“What were you two chuckling about?” He asks, tapping his fingertip on the tip of your nose.

“Just girl stuff,” you vaguely lie, leaning on your toes to kiss his lips. Chan hums into the kiss, his hands grabbing a hold of yours.

He mumbles a quick, "I love you," against your lips, planting one more kiss before fully pulling away. “Why don't we go say hi to everyone,” Chan mentions, squeezing your hands in his.

You nod your head and lead him into your kitchen. You greet the rest of your family, giving them hugs and kisses. You make grabbing hands at the toddler in your big sister's arms.

“Hi, baby boy,” you squeal, holding the one and half year old baby. He smiles at you, bringing his tiny hand to your cheek. “You're getting so big!”

You rest the baby on your hip, lightly bouncing him in your arms. Ji-ho squeals and kicks his little legs into your side. You release a little cry and point at the little man.

“Watch your feet, mister! You're gonna hurt Auntie,” you chuckle, adjusting his legs so they're sitting comfortably.

“He loves to kick,” your sister mentions, walking over to her son. “I forgot to tell you.”

You playfully scoff as she pinches the boy's cheeks. “That would've been some crucial information, Joon,” you tell her with a smile.

Chan moves to stand behind you, and you can hear him coo at Ji-ho. You glance over your shoulder, watching him smile at your nephew. His dimples are present, and you can feel your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask him, turning to face him.

Your boyfriend's gaze moves from you to your older sister. “Would that be okay?” He asks her politely.

“Of course!”

Chan takes the baby from you, lifting him higher for a quick second before resting him on his hip. “Hi, buddy,” he whispers in his baby voice, tickling his stomach.

Ji-ho squeals again, more giggles coming from the baby's lips. He rests his head on Chan's shoulder, his tiny hands gripping his shirt. Your heart feels like it's swelling even larger as you witness your boyfriend interacting with him.

You pull your phone out and snap a couple of photos. He'd make such a great dad… You think to yourself as Chan starts walking around the kitchen with Ji-ho.

Your mother pats your back gently, snapping you from your thoughts. She gives you a knowing smile before nodding her head towards Chan.

“Baby,” you call out to him, capturing his attention. You motion your head towards the hallway. Your sister takes Ji-ho from him as you excuse the two of you.

Chan slips his arms around your waist as you walk down the hallway. You rest your hands on top of his, and you feel like your heart's going to fly out of your chest.

“Everything okay?” He whispers into your ear while stepping into your childhood bedroom.

You nod your head and gently shut the door. His eyes dance between you and the bedroom door. You take a couple of steps towards the taller man, resting your hands on his cheeks.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You ask in a whisper, gently stroking his cheek.

“Of course,” he whispers back to you, placing his hands on your hips. “What's this ab-”

You cut him off by leaning on your toes, kissing his lips. A moan leaves his lips while his grip on you tightens. One of your arms wraps around his neck as you deepen the kiss.

Chan pulls away from you abruptly, and you attempt to chase his lips, not having enough. “Baby, baby,” he mumbles, moving his hands to your arms. “What's gotten into you?”

You feel embarrassed at how needy you are, but seeing him with a baby has made you a little feral. He gently rubs your arms as you find yourself looking at the carpet.

“I might have baby fever,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear.

He giggles and bends down a little to look in your eyes. “Oh yeah?” He smiles at you, bringing one of his hands to your cheek.

You can feel your cheeks begin to blush, and you push him playfully. “You know what? I hate you,” you laugh, moving past him to lay on your bed.

Chan laughs with you and lays down beside you. “I love you too, baby,” he grins ear to ear before kissing your forehead. He peppers more kisses all over your face. “So, you want a baby?”

A groan leaves your lips after hearing his question. “Not right now, obviously,” you tell him, finding his hand before lacing your fingers together. “But, in the future, I'd like to have a family with you.”

His lips find yours and he kisses you passionately. Your free hand grips the sweater he's wearing, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Chan pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “I would love to have a family with you, baby.”

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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hyunverse · 1 month

Text

wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.

wc: 12.9k words.

warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.

note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.

playlist.

Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday.

Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight.

He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence.

After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show.

“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.”

Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.

To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes.

“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.

You’re a girl.

You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl.

A very pretty girl.

It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it.

His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you.

Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.

He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him.

“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.

“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.

Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose.

“White!”

The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend.

“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.

He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought.

“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!”

The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour.

“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.”

It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time.

“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?”

At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”

The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly.

“You’re my best friend in the world!”

Hyunjin felt like he could die.

His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red.

“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”

At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.

two.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet.

Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.

“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.

“What?”

“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer.

You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”

“It so was!”

Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said.

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?”

Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.

“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”

Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.”

A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red.

Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap.

You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb.

He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.

A fact you didn't want to accept.

It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories.

In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.

It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.

They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.”

Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you?

Dear universe, be good to me.

You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly.

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.

Don’t be a coward.

Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage.

It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you.

Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could.

Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could.

Okay, step number one failed.

“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”

“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.

“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin.

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.”

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him.

“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.

“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff.

Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.

It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell.

Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.

“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”

Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.”

The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.

Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked.

Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”

He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.

Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”

Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered.

“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”

The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.

“You were saying?”

Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin.

“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.

So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.

“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”

four.

The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue.

It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head.

“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after.

“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger.

Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next.

Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper.

On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over.

“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”

“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.”

Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you.

“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are.

He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now?

Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.”

A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug.

“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.

When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself.

“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”

You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.”

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”

Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more.

Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall.

“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.

“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.”

You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.”

Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts.

His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead.

Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck.

Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need.

“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

The exact words he did not need to hear that day.

How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now?

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away.

five.

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field.

Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.

He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would.

Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat.

Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?”

“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”

“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”

Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.”

Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.

“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Why?”

“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”

“I mean —”

Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”

The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side.

“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”

Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back.

“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”

Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it.

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.

“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!”

“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.

After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink.

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense.

Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in.

You were as pretty as the flowers.

“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you.

From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness.

“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”

Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms.

Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.”

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal.

“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”

You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”

“You look good from any angle.”

Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then.

“Okay…”

Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.

“You didn’t even count to three!”

Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”

Right. He has never.

You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.

Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo.

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever.

If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.

“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”

Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience.

“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”

“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him.

“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his.

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now.

Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too.

If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey?

He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.

Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours.

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.

Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway.

“I win.”

The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face.

“Oh.”

The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things?

Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about.

Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.

Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks.

“See you soon?” you mumbled.

Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.

You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way.

Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face.

Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you.

seven.

One day before your birthday.

It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.

“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.”

She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all.

“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”

Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say.

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.

Was there?

It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze.

“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”

“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”

“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”

The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.

You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”

Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”

Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room.

He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears.

Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.

When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth.

All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty.

All traces of Hyunjin were gone.

The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal.

“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.”

More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along.

The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart.

Your best friend was truly gone.

“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.”

The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn.

If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter.

“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”

The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more.

“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”

It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay.

You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse.

Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.

In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.

eight.

“Coffee, or tea?”

A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip.

“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath.

“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”

Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time.

The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.

“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”

The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do.

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?

If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him?

Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over.

The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.

Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you.

Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear.

You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more.

As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.

The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment.

No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five.

Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time.

His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you.

Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.

There are five stages of grief.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things.

Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.

Motivation.

After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them.

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.

Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it.

Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.

Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries.

“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!”

The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip.

Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking.

Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin.

Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.

“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”

“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man.

You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.

“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”

“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”

How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap.

You were confused.

Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”

Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back.

It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.

Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.

“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”

“Secret lover?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”

Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.

How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?

Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?

Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it.

9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.

After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.

The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty.

They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin.

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.

There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia.

The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized.

It was a fragment of your memory.

Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved.

A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face?

You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display.

Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.

Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece.

When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy.

Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.

“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible.

The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.

“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”

A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.

“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch.

“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.

You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears.

“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”

“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”

Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.

“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”

Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.

“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”

Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.

“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”

At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”

And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up.

I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.

Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other.

“Please, give me a second chance.”

It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.

“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”

“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.”

He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.

“It's always been you.”

eleven.

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love.

You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises.

Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot.

Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.

“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.

While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”

Your heart swelled at the confession.

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that.

He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear.

“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”

For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”

The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.

Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled.

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”

“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”

The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well.

After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint.

It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.

After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over.

Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.

“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”

“Then come cuddle.”

He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend.

“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”

Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one.

“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”

To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body.

“You coming to the exposition?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”

“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”

He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body.

You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.

Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs.

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.

Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.

Over a week ago.

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything.

After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed.

“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”

You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment.

Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again.

Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.

“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”

“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”

Damn you, Reine.

Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.

“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”

It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.

You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper.

You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.

“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”

Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak.

“You’re hiding things from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”

Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.

“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”

Ah.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.

“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”

“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”

“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”

You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way.

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”

“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”

“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."

A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.

Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.

"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."

taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @starlostlaiba , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs, @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @seolboba @in2heartz @jehhskz @astraystayyh @mnwrld

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 months

Text

✨Feathers✨

Hey hey hey, I’m back! Took a tiny break but I had another idea for a spicy Luci scenario! But this one is super tender cuz Luci needs some TLC like nobody's business! 🥺

This turned out a little more dom!reader then initially planned but I'm happy about it

Big thank you to some of the anons I received for the ideas! I very much appreciate everyone who's given anything I've written their love!

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer's wings are not in the greatest shape, you offer to help clean them...

Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, cockwarming, dom!reader and sub!lucifer if you squint

It had been a pretty quiet day in house. Lucifer was off with his daughter Charlie for the day, they’ve had quite a bit of father/daughter bonding to catch up on. But this gave you the chance to work on something that you’ve been wanting to make for some time now. It was a secret project, keeping things from Lucifer was harder than it seemed. But with the home to yourself, you were finally able to finish the gift you wanted to give him! Just as you were admiring your work, a portal opened up behind you; Lucifer was back! Quickly, you hid his gift under your pillow before he could see anything. Lucifer stepped through the portal and into your bedroom; you noticed his wings spread out behind him.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted as you walked over to him, planting a small peck on his forehead. He smiled, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it in return. “How was your day with Charlie?”

“It was really nice! We went for a little flight, as you can tell,” he laughed, gesturing to his wings. Lucifer’s wings always left you in awe, you couldn’t help but stare at them. But upon further inspection, you saw that they seemed a little worse for wear. You wondered when the last time they were properly taken care of, since you've never seen him actually do anything with them.

“Hey Luci, your wings are looking a little…” you hesitated, looking for the right word, “disheveled. Is everything alright?”

"Ahh," Lucifer sighed, "yeah, I uhh...I'll admit, I haven't paid them much attention. Not in a long while."

You knew that he had been by himself for a long time before you came along. He had mentioned his battles with self isolation and depression that he had fought against for years, but he was never too keen on going into more detail than necessary. Looking back, it would make sense as to why his wings are in the state that they are. It saddened you, you wished you could have been there for him. It was time to make up for that.

"How about this," you proposed, "why don't I run us a bath and I'll help you clean them up. How does that sound?"

"O-Oh, are you sure?," he questioned, failing to hide the fact that his cheeks were now flushed. "They're kind of a pain, I don't want you to-" you cut off his protests with a peck. You felt his lips curl into a smile.

"Nothing's a pain when it comes to you, Lucifer," you assured. "Go get ready and I'll see you in a few minutes, alright? Tonight, let me take care of you."

"Of course," he grinned, "thank you, my angel."

*** Lucifer saw you smile and make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. As soon as the door closed, he let out a long sigh. It really had been years since he’s taken care of his wings. It was a lot easier when there was someone there to help. When Lilith left, it became a much more daunting task. He began to undo his button up shirt, tossing it onto the bed and moved on to undoing his belt. But suddenly, he stopped once the buckle had been unhooked. Shit, he thought to himself, realizing he’d forgotten how sensitive his wings were, my wings being touched are drive me insane! I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together, especially not after years of just letting them go! He sucked in a few deep breaths and continued removing the belt from his pants. It’s fine, it’s fine…as long as I don’t make a noise or turn around. Just focus, Lucifer. For Satan’s sake, you’re the king of Hell!

Lucifer undid his zipper, letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor and kicking them off to the side. Unfortunately, he could already feel the blood rushing between his legs in anticipation. No, no, no!, he scolded himself, we’re not doing this. We’re getting our wings washed and we’re going to bed! I’m not letting this turn into anything other than a nice bath! She CANNOT think I’m just some touch starved pervert! I’m not! He inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to calm down. After a minute, he made his way to the bathroom, placing his hand on the knob.

“I’m so fucked,” he whispered to himself before slowly opening the door.

*** It was fortunate that Lucifer had such a spacious home, that meant a more spacious bathroom as well. His bathtub could easily fit four people comfortably, but this at least gave you room to be able to work with his wings. You turned the water on to a nice warm temperature, making sure it wasn't too hot. You undressed as the bathtub began to fill, grabbing a soft washcloth from the closet and bubble bath soap after discarding your clothes. Once the tub was half full, you poured the soap in, letting it mix with the running water. The bubbles appeared fast, you couldn't see that water anymore after a few seconds. Finally, you brought the flow to a stop and dipped your toes in to test that waters. Perfect. You stepped in and slowly began to sink down into the warm liquid that heated your core. Lucky for you, his tub had seats along the sides so you could sit comfortably instead of sinking to the bottom! As soon as you were submerged just below your shoulders, you heard the bathroom door creaking behind you.

"Knock, knock!," Lucifer joked, hitting the already opened door with his knuckles. You chuckled as he closed the door behind him. Not that it was a new sight to you, but his naked figure never ceased to make you blush, as if he were perfectly sculpted. You shook your head, trying your best to focus on his face and not let your eyes wander anywhere else.

"Alright, let's see what we're working with," you stated, prompting Lucifer to conjure his wings once more. As you looked them over, you could tell it would take a little bit of time to clean them properly, but you were more than willing to help. You shifted over to the edge of the tub and offered Lucifer your hand. Smiling, he took hold as you guided him into the water with you. He sat down next you, turning his back so you could start working on his neglected feathers.

"Thank you for this," he spoke softly as you took the washcloth and began to work on his first set of wings. "I really don't deserve it, or you..."

"Luci, don't say that," you cut in, "I love you, and I want to help you. I'll always be here, I promise."

You heard him hum in response. He had a lot more feathers than you originally thought. You wanted to take your time, combing through every feather from his first set as they were the largest. You moved your attention down to his second set of wings after a few minutes. You were both quiet for a while as you continued your ministrations, running the washcloth thoroughly through each of his feathers, ridding them of any dirt. However, the sound of Lucifer's breathing becoming heavier with each passing minute did not go unnoticed by you. Wings were very sensitive areas after all. A tiny smile crept on your face. You had finally moved on to his last set of wings. They would be the easiest to take care of since they were the smallest, but you wanted to test your suspicions before you finished.

"Almost done," you hummed, "you doing alright?"

"YEAH, yeah," Lucifer answered almost too loudly, "I-I'm fine."

"That's good," you responded, gripping his feathers with just a little bit more force than necessary. You heard a small whimper escape Lucifer's throat, his hand shooting out of the water to cover his mouth. Bingo. "You sure you're alright, hon?"

"M-Mhmm," Lucifer mumbled into his palm.

"All clean," you purred, causing Lucifer's wings to disappear in a flash.

Lucifer stood up a little too fast trying to exit the tub, his back still towards you. "Thank you love, I really really appreciate you doing that for me, but I'm kind of tired so I'm gonna-" You didn't let him finish his sentence, grabbing onto his hips and pulling him into your lap, causing a large splash. "D-Darling, what are you doing?"

"And where do you think you're going?" you questioned, letting your hands run down his hips and towards his thighs. You heard Lucifer's breath hitch as your hands roamed dangerously close to his hard on. "What's the matter, baby? Were you hoping I wouldn't notice that you were getting turned on by all my touching? How cute."

You let your hand wander until you finally gripped his hardened cock. Lucifer could only let out a strangled yelp. All too pleased, you began to stroke his cock at an agonizingly slow pace. Lucifer tried to buck up at your touch, but your other arm was wrapped around his abdomen, keeping him flush to your chest. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now why would you try to hide this from me, Luci?,” you teased him as you began peppering kisses along the back of his neck.

“Hhng…I-I’m sorry, love,” he swallowed, “it…shit…it’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t h-have had that reaction while you were…ffffuuucckk…” He completely trailed off, only being able to focus on your movements. You had only picked up your pace slightly since you started, you wanted to make this last as long as possible. But unfortunately, you could feel your own arousal start to pulse between your legs. Without warning, you let go off his cock, causing to Lucifer to whimper at the loss of your hand. You swiftly stood up and hooked your arm under his legs, carrying him bridal style out of the tub. He looked up at you with a mixture of shock and arousal. Once you were fully out of the tub, you placed him onto the white marble floor.

"Stay," you commanded. Lucifer held his arms down at his sides, completely immobile. You sauntered over to the rack and grabbed the two fresh towels hanging there. After opening the bathroom door, you dried off your soaking body as quickly as you could before making your way back over to Lucifer with the other towel in hand. You patted his hair down first, then moved to his face and shoulders, working it down to his chest and stomach. You avoided touching the area he needed you to touch the most and finally finished by drying off his legs. "Get ready," you told him as you stood up straight once more. Before he could respond, you scooped him up in your arms again with the towel placed underneath him. You couldn't help but smile down at him once you say how flushed his face had gotten. You effortlessly carried your lover into the bedroom and placed him down on the edge of the bed. You took the towel and placed it on the floor, giving your knees some much needed cushion from the hard wooden floor.

"Sweetheart, p-please," Lucifer said, finally finding his voice again, "you don't have to-" You gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, cutting him off mid-sentence. He could only yelp in response.

"I told you that I would take care of you tonight, did I not?" you replied with a coy smile. "That's exactly what I intend to do."

You lowered your head and gently pressed your lips to the head of his cock which was already covered in precum. Your tongue circled the tip, causing Lucifer to grip the sheets beneath him, not being able to focus on anything else. You relaxed your jaw, forcing your mouth down onto his shaft as far as you could manage. You didn't want to choke, after all! You absolutely adored the sounds leaving Lucifer's lips, desperate moaning and incoherent babbling. You quickened your pace, your hot mouth leaving trails of saliva down your hand. You felt Lucifer's legs begin to shake.

"L-Love," he choked out, "if you don't stop, I'm g-gonna...FUCK!" You didn't stop bobbing your head up and down. If anything, it only made you work faster. You felt his hands reach out to your shoulders, seemingly trying to push you away, but he wasn't trying very hard if that was the case. You refused to budge. "OHFUCKME," was the last thing he could mutter before his orgasm hit him, spilling his hot seed into your mouth. It was salty, but not unpleasant. You kept your mouth firmly on his cock as he rode out his high. You felt him soften in your mouth and you finally removed yourself from him with a *pop*. You caught some of his cum on your finger that had leaked from your mouth, licking it clean. Lucifer caught you doing so and buried his face in his hands.

“You’re going to kill me one of these days, darling,” he mumbled.

You chuckled, pulling his hands away to see his bright yellow eyes staring back at you. “I don’t think I have that kind of power!"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Lucifer sighed, "my wings are very...sensitive to say the least. I completely forgot about it until it was too late. I thought I could tough it out, but umm, that's clearly not what ended up happening. I didn't want you to think I was some maniac who couldn't control himself..."

You brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly with your thumb. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. " You don't have to apologize to me, Luci, it's alright," you comforted. "Besides, seeing you so worked up is extremely hot!"

"Pfft!" Lucifer laughed, picking up on your attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm glad you think so! I was dying the entire time in there!"

You smiled at him and got up from your kneeled position." Do you feel better now? Got it all out of your system?”

"Not quite," he breathed.

As if to take revenge from your stunt from earlier, Lucifer grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. "HEY!," you protested, but it was already too late; your cunt that's been aching for attention was now perfectly hovered over Lucifer's maniacal grin. Without warning, he pulled your legs down towards him and began to lick up your folds vigorously. His tongue attacking your clit with every lap he took. Your arms gave out almost immediately, forcing you onto your elbows to keep yourself propped up while the dirtiest moans filled the room. "Fuck...Fuck Luci, you feel s-so good...SHIT!," you cried out. His forked tongue worked at your sensitive nub relentlessly, causing the pit in your stomach to tighten. You weren't going to last much longer at this rate, he was too good and he knew it. Every time he ate you out, he always acted like a starving man who would never taste you again. It only took a few more nibbles at your clit before your walls spasmed uncontrollably, cumming hard against his tongue. He hummed in approval as he helped you ride out your orgasm, swallowing every drop of you. You managed to crawl away from him and plopped chest down on your mattress.

"You're insatiable, aren't you, Lucifer?," you teased, still trying to catch your breath.

"And you're irresistible, aren't you, my angel?" Lucifer joked back. He sat up straight against the pillows next to where your head laid. You couldn't help but notice that he was rock hard again. It filled you with pride to know just how much tasting you on his lips could illicit such a response. A thought popped into your head at that moment, your lips forming into a devious smile. You weren't going to let him have the last word. He was done for.

You pushed yourself up from your prone position and straddled Lucifer's lap, leaning down and crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your kiss, licking across your bottom lip, almost like he was begging you for access. You opened your mouth wide and felt his tongue slip past your lips, deepening your kiss. To his dismay, you pulled away from him, panting and breathless. You lined up your entrance with his cock, sinking down onto him in one quick motion. Both of you moaned at the sensation, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Lucifer eagerly started to buck his hips into you, but you had other plans. You let the rest of your upper body weight fall onto his hips, rendering him immobile.

"Wh-what are you doing?," Lucifer whined as he tried desperately to rut up into you to no avail. "Please...please, need to move...."

You adored him in this state, begging and pleading for you to let him chase his release. "Teaching you a lesson," you grinned, shifting your hips every so slightly and making him bury his head into the crook of your neck.

"PLEASE! Please, I'll do anything!" Lucifer begged, his breathing becoming more and more labored. "Whatever you want!"

"I want you to promise me something, Luci," you cooed, placing your hand under his chin and lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Promise me that you'll come to me if you need help from now on. And in return, I'll promise you that I'll always be there whenever you need me. Do we have a deal?"

Tears welled up in his eyes at your words and the lack of stimulation. He buried his head into your chest, wrapping his arms around you. "YesyesyesIpromiseIpromiseIwill," he sobbed. You smiled and kissed the top of his head, his blond hair brushing against your face.

"That's my good boy," you praised. You decided to end his torment by lifting your hips and slamming back down on his cock at a break neck pace. His wanton moans went straight to your core, you knew another orgasm was fast approaching. He bucked his hips up into you, his cock hitting your G spot just right with every thrust.

"So close...sososoclose," Lucifer whimpered in your ear.

"L-Let go, baby," you choked out in your cock drunken state, "c-cum in me, Luci, pleasepleasePLEASE!"

Lucifer leaned down and bit into your shoulder, muffling his cries as it only took him a few more thrusts before spilling his seed into you. His bite pushed you over the edge as well, pulsating around his leaking cock. You both took a minute to come down from your highs, neither of you wanting to pull apart. At last, you pulled yourself up and out of Lucifer's lap and completely collapsed next to him. You reached over the edge of the bed and picked up the towel from earlier, handing it to Lucifer so he could clean himself up. You were about to fall asleep when you remembered something important.

"OH!," you shouted, startling Lucifer a little bit. "I almost forgot! I made you something!" You reached under your pillow where you had hid his gift from earlier. You pulled out a small duckling keychain with the words "My Little Duckling" beneath it. You passed it to Lucifer who cupped it in his hands, staring at it like it was made of diamonds.

"You...you made this...for me?," he stammered, completely enamored with his present. He clenched his fist around it and held it up to his heart. "I...I love it so much, darling! This is the best gift I've ever received! I'll cherish this forever! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He pulled you in for the tightest hug he's ever given you while peppering small kisses all over your face. You giggled and managed to capture his lips before he could get another peck in.

"I'm really happy you like it," you smiled. "We'll figure out where you can hang it in the morning, yeah?"

"I'd love nothing more, my dear" Lucifer grinned. "But for now, let's get some sleep, shall we."

You nodded and yawned in agreement. You shifted yourself flush against Lucifer's chest, letting his arms wrap around you. You felt his tail wrap around you leg right before you lost consciousness, letting you know he would never let you go.

~~~~

IT'S FUCKING DONE BABY, LET'S GOOOOOOOO

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer smut #lucifer morningstar x reader #my writing #lucifer's silly faces make a return!

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wileys-russo · 2 months

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maternal instinct II a.russo x reader

"you're sure you don't want us to stay? cook dinner? help unpack? provide general love and company? we're more than happy to lessi!" beth pressed as alessia smiled at her friends and now club teammates.

"yes. i promise i'll be fine, we've got tomorrow off and i'll unpack then. i love you all very much but i'm exhausted!" alessia chuckled tiredly as her friends nodded in understanding. "well call us if you need anything yeah? anything." leah pushed as alessia nodded, opening the door for them.

"do you want us to come over tomorrow night? i'll cook!" lotte offered making alessia laugh as they hovered by the door. even more of the girls having helped her alongside her family and the movers today alessia's social battery was nearing zero, so as much as she appreciated everyones love and concern, she really just needed the time to recharge.

"i will speak to you all tomorrow, goodbye!" alessia hinted heavily, her friends hugging her and finally taking off toward the elevators as the blonde stood in her doorway and waved them off as still they lingered for a moment.

her lips curled into a smile and she shook her head as leah was finally pulled into the elevator, hanging around as if alessia might change her mind, her hand shooting out to wave before beth smacked it back inside and the doors closed.

"rawr!" alessia jumped a foot in the air and slipped, crashing down to the floor with a groan and a wince. "oh my god isabella!" she heard an unfamiliar voice hiss as footsteps thumped over and a hand extended to help her up.

"i am so so sorry." alessia found herself speechless as she was pulled up and faced the new voice, met with a gorgeous stranger who looked as though she couldn't have been too dissimilar in age to alessia herself.

"she learned what a practical joke is at school last week and she thinks its hilarious to scare people, nearly gave the poor elderly gent four doors down a heart attack yesterday." the stranger sighed and thats when alessia noticed the tiny girl hidden behind her leg, peering out every now and then.

"its okay, really. i was born with two left feet so it doesn't take much for me to hit the floor." alessia joked, rubbing her tailbone which she was sure would be bruised tomorrow from the impact. "well i'm still very sorry, its hardly very welcoming when your new neighbours have you tumbling over to the floor, you just moved in today right?" the girl smiled kindly as alessia nodded.

"i promise its no problem, i'm alessia." the blonde held her hand out as you introduced yourself and shook it. "this is isabella" you nodded down to your five year old daughter hidden behind your leg.

"bella say hi and say sorry for scaring alessia please." you requested softly, hand gently guiding your daughter out from behind you as alessia squatted down, well aware her height wouldn't help the young girl feel any less intimidated.

"hi, sorry for scaring you." the girl mumbled, still clinging onto your leg as she glanced up at alessia with a shy smile. "thats okay, i've got two big brothers and i liked to scare them when i was your age too." alessia grinned, bellas smile widening at her words.

"its very lovely to meet you, i like your shoes." alessia pointed downward before shuffling a little so the girl could see she was sporting the same ones.

"woah your feet are huge!" bella gasped with wide eyes, bending down to poke at alessia's trainers making her laugh as you winced. "sorry! she's not got much of a filter, i'm working on it." you sighed with a small chuckle as alessia pushed up to stand again.

"hey honesty is the best policy right?" alessia joked kindly as bella continued to poke at her shoes and you gently pulled her away.

"well we'll leave you to settle in but welcome to the building! i'm sure we'll see you around alessia." you gave her another smile and turned back toward your own apartment, the blonde grinning as isabella gave her an enthusiastic wave before sprinting inside.

and indeed it wasn't very long before alessia saw either of you again.

"oh shit! no no no." alessia panicked, feeling around in her pockets and shaking her bag but coming up empty, suddenly having a vision of her keys where she'd left them on the counter this morning, too used to having them connected to her car key but not having gotten around to it with this new set just yet.

grabbing out her phone she called the building manager, huffing when it instantly went to voicemail and didn't even allow her to leave one. wracking her brain for what her next move could be she tapped her foot and flicked through her contacts, though no one would really be able to help her unless they were a locksmith.

so with a sigh she left her bag by her door and moved to stand in front of yours, raising her fist and knocking a few times. but when there was no answer she turned away assuming you weren't home, barely making it a few steps before the door clicked.

"alessia?" you called out curiously, the blonde turning with a sheepish smile. "i'm really really sorry to bother you, but i've locked myself out and i can't get through to mr brooks." alessia rubbed the back of her neck, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"he'll be playing poker, turns his phone off on saturdays. does anyone have your spare?" you chuckled, alessia shaking her head. "its still inside. with moving in and settling in at my new club and trainings and media appearances i haven't had a chance." alessia groaned, throwing her head back as you gave her a look of sympathy.

"look i'm well aware we were all taught about stranger danger in school, but would you like to wait inside? i've got a number for a good locksmith, he works weekends he might just take a few hours if he's got other jobs." you offered kindly, alessia stuttering out that she didn't want to be a bother.

"you wouldn't be, i promise. i just made lunch and there's more than enough for two." you assured, opening your door wider and gesturing for her to join.

"i don't bite! i promise." you joked, a smile curling onto the taller girls lips as she finally accepted the offer, grabbing her bag and stepping inside your apartment.

"bella's at her dads." you answered while dishing you both up a bowl, alessia not needing to ask but clearly noting the lack of your daughter. "alessia you can sit down." you laughed at how awkward she seemed, finding it quite endearing and a tiny bit cute.

"my friends call me less, or lessi." alessia clarified, leaving her bag by the door and taking a seat at your dining table. "we're friends already? maybe that stranger danger lecture hasn't sunk in for you." you teased with a grin, alessia's face blushing bright red.

"no! i didn't mean that sorry i just meant-" the blonde rambled as you placed the bowl of pasta down in front of her. "i'm only teasing, less." you smiled, taking a seat across from her and nodding for her to eat, the girl declining your offer of a drink.

"nah i just don't know if i can get over that." alessia denied with a firm shake of her head as you playfully swatted at her arm, the two of you now sat much more comfortably on your lounge getting to know each other.

"i was five! i didn't know any better." you laughed, snatching back the photo from her grip which showed a much younger you sat on your fathers shoulders at a liverpool game, jersey on and face painted.

"you can ask you know." you smiled knowingly as alessia's eyes hovered on a picture of you and bella when she was just a baby, bundled up in a bright blue blanket stitched with tiny pink flowers your mother had made.

"ask what?" alessia questioned with a confused frown. "about her, being a teen mum is interesting to everyone. you're just too polite to acknowledge it unlike most other people." you smiled as alessias cheeks flushed red, wondering if you had some sort of mind reading power.

"i didn't-i wouldn't want to-" alessia stammered out quickly. "you wouldn't, i promise. there's not much i've not been asked before really." you assured gently as alessia nodded, more as if to reassure herself than assure you.

"how old were you?" the blonde asked after a short pause had passed. "eighteen when i fell pregnant, nineteen once i gave birth. yes it was an accident, no i didn't know her dad before we got drunk and slept together. we were young and stupid, the condom broke and i told him it was fine!" you rolled your eyes at your own reckless decision.

"so he's..." alessia trailed off, clearly still feeling a little awkward which made you chuckle. "he's in the picture. he's a good guy and a good dad but like i said we didn't know each other. naturally he freaked out when i told him, i didn't hear from him for a few months but i also didn't expect anything from him." you shrugged.

"my parents were actually much more supportive than i thought. it took me the longest to tell them because i was scared but they promised no matter what i chose they'd support me, and it meant more than they'll ever know." you smiled softly at the memory as alessia hung off your every word.

"so he came back into the picture, his parents took a little more convincing but between all of us we came up with a plan before she was even born. we alternate weekends and given i work at her school and live closest to the doctors and our parents she lives with me most of the time, but he takes her on tuesday and thursday afternoons and we communicate when things don't work or if he wants to see her more." you explained as alessia nodded.

"that sounds really healthy." the blonde observed, leaning her head on her hand, elbow pressed into the back of the lounge. "did the two of you ever try and-" alessia clearly struggled to find the right words making you smile.

"we both just want whats best for her. we established pretty early on that we're absolutely not each others person but we are hers, and she comes first always." you answered as now alessia smiled softly, clearly seeing how much you cared for your daughter.

your conversation stilled as there was a few sharp knocks at the door clearly in some sort of intended pattern, and seeing the curious look on alessia's face you chuckled. "i'd love to say thats the locksmith but that'll be bella." you smiled, standing up to your feet and making your way over to the door.

you'd barely opened it a few centimetres before your daughter was wiggling her way through and crashing into you, tightly hugging your leg and making you laugh.

alessia watched on fondly from the lounge, a smile curling into her lips as she watched the interaction, a few words exchanged between your ex and yourself confirming arrangements for next week before bella noticed the new person on the lounge.

"big feet!" your daughter chirped in greeting as you closed the front door and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "bella! that is not her name." you told her off flashing alessia an apologetic wince who waved it off, grin on her face.

"why are you here?" bella asked curiously, climbing up onto the lounge and settling herself next to alessia, wiggling around to get comfortable. "i did something very silly and i locked my keys inside my house!" alessia smacked her hand against her forehead with a scoff making bella giggle.

"did your dad feed you or is the monster in your stomach hungry bel?" you called out, her head popping up over the back of the lounge. "mmm dad fed me. but not the monster, the monsters hungry!" bella announced as you hummed in understanding.

"and what is the monster hungry for?" you questioned with an amused smile. "alessia whats your favourite sandwich?" bella turned to the footballer beside her who looked caught off guard. "oh gosh um, ham and cheese?" alessia spoke out the first thing which came to mind.

"ham and cheese please! one for the monster and one for big feet." bella answered with a concise nod as you sighed at the nickname but found yourself relieved as alessia only laughed.

"so bella, tell me about this monster in your tummy. how on earth did it get in there?"

"snap! i win." bella cheered happily, jumping around with a grin as alessia groaned dramatically, collapsing back into the lounge with a playful frown.

"you are just too fast! i didn't even see your hand move. do you have super powers?" alessia tutted with a shake of her head as you smiled, admittedly melting at how easily she seemed to get along with your daughter.

"its cause the monsters brain and my brain mash together and make one huge brain so i'm really fast and strong and smart! but its okay you're not very good at this game." bella explained, patting the strikers knee apologetically for the loss making you laugh and alessia jokingly shove at your shoulder.

the game was interrupted by another few knocks at the door, bella climbing back onto the lounge to continue chattering away to alessia as you stood to answer.

"all fixed." you smiled as paul handed you the new key, seeing alessia's door had been opened. "thank you! i'll just go-" you turned as the older man quickly shook his head. "don't be silly love. i owed your dad a favour anyway, tell him its paid up." he promised as you thanked him and offered a tea or coffee, paul apologizing stating he'd have to leave, needing to run off to another job.

thanking him again you waved the man off and closed your door. "good news! you're in." you smiled, holding the key up as alessia exhaled a deep sigh of relief. "thank you so much, wait where did he go? i didn't even pay!" alessia panicked as you quickly reassured her it was fine.

"he owed my dad a favour, break in was free of charge." you teased lightly, handing her the key as the colour returned to her face. "thank you again, and for letting me potato it out on your lounge all afternoon. i hope you didn't have any plans?" alessia worried as you shook your head.

"none at all, really it was lovely getting to know you a bit better. bella and i haven't really met many people in the building, i know she can be...a lot sometimes." you put lightly, glancing at your daughter over alessia's shoulder where she sat on the floor making two of her dolls wrestle one another.

"no way, i wish i was half as cool as she is when I was her age." alessia laughed, hand squeezing your knee in reassurance before she stood. "but i should really get out of your hair. thank you for lunch too! i'd love to return the favour if you and bella would like to come over for dinner sometime?" alessia offered with a kind smile.

"we would!" bella answered before you could, appearing between the two of you suddenly with a grin as you rolled your eyes fondly. "well you're both more than welcome." alessia promised, bending down to isabella's height with a grin that matched hers.

"thanks for playing with me big feet!" alessia nearly fell backward as the five year old threw her arms around her neck in a tight hug before racing off and leaving you shaking your head after her as alessia pushed back up to her feet.

grabbing her bag alessia stepped outside as you gave her a smile so warm it nearly bowled her back over again, the blonde finding herself lingering on your doorstep despite her own apartment being a mere few feet away.

"um. could i maybe grab your number? so we can organise dinner!" alessia clarified quickly, her ears flushing pink as a hundred worries that she'd make you uncomfortable rushed to the forefront of her mind.

this wasn't like her, she didn't ask for strangers numbers and spend hours in their apartments and invite them over for dinner. and yet, here she was doing all of that and finding herself near praying you'd say yes.

"sure." you nodded happily, holding your hand out for her phone which alessia hurried to tug out of her pocket, unlock and and place down gently into the palm of your outstretched hand.

watching as you added in your number and handed it back to her, the two of you fell into a few beats of comfortable silence, exchanging a smile which seemed to be a wordless farewell.

"wait!" alessia paused as she was turning to head back to her own apartment, watching bella wiggle her way out of of the half closed door. "here." she held out a small pink and blue braided bracelet up to the striker.

"so you can put your key on it and wear it so you don't lock it inside again!" the five year old smiled, patting alessia's leg before racing off back into the apartment. "thank you!" alessia called out with a tender smile, sending you a nod which you returned with a soft smile before your apartment door closed and alessia turned to head into her own.

"and then you have to make sure there's lots of flour on the board." alessia instructed as bella nodded and you watched on with a smile, the two in your kitchen making both dinner and a mess.

the dinners had become sort of an unspoken routine, the first one at alessias house running so late that bella had wound up taking a much needed nap in alessia's spare room while the two of you spoke for hours and hours.

since then you found yourself in her kitchen or her in yours at least once a week, alessia one of the most patient women you'd ever met as she made sure to include your daughter in all of the cooking, keeping an eye nearly as watchful as yours on her energetic five year old sous chef.

you'd of course taken charge more than once and cooked for her, but you noticed that alessia genuinly enjoyed cooking for others, and you would always notice the clear joy in her eyes when you and bella clearly expressed how good her cooking was, your daughters tummy monster rapidly becoming her biggest fan.

"then we carefully use this little roller and we roll and roll and roll, and look! it cuts the pasta into little shapes." alessia explained, her hand guiding isabella's which was clamped around the tool, the girls face ablaze with wonder.

"woah! so cool." bella exhaled, eyes wide as you met alessia's gaze with a soft smile, your cheeks becoming a little warm as the taller girl sent you a wink and turned her attention back to your daughter.

you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't noticed that maybe you might harbour some more than friendly feelings for your blonde neighbour, but you were also very used to squashing these and compartmentalizing what your priorities were.

"does the monster want red sauce or green sauce?" alessia asked, pulling a face and making bella giggle from where she sat on the counter swinging her legs to and from.

"red." bella paused as if to consult with the imaginary gremlin inside her before deciding as alessia smiled at the sight. all it had taken was one joke that your daughters appetite must be because she had a monster living in her tummy and she'd ran with it, proudly telling everyone and anyone about her new best friend.

you left them to it and turned your attention to the report cards scattered across the dining room table, all that was left was to check you'd covered everyone in your class and sign it off and your weekend would be stress free.

what you failed to notice though was that as much as you'd sneak a glance at alessia every now and then with a soft smile, the moment you'd look back away she was doing the same, feelings which matched yours fluttering away in her stomach but unsure what to do about them.

the decision came later that night when bella had been tucked in and was long asleep, much to her demands that she should be allowed to stay up and join your 'girls night' because she was a big girl and she didn't have school tomorrow.

but with alessia saying goodnight and promising to come over on the weekend before hiding away in your bedroom occupying herself watching tv.

so thinking she now wasn't missing out on anything you'd then wrestled the five year old into bed and read her her favourite story, bella not even making it five pages in before her eyes drooped and suddenly she was dead asleep.

despite that you still read through the story cover to cover, having done so ever since she was little you weren't about to break the tradition now.

kissing her forehead and very quietly making your way out of the room, you closed her bedroom door with the most gentle click possible and exhaled, crossing the hallway to your own bedroom.

"we're safe!" you joked, knocking on the door frame as the blonde looked up from her phone. "what did i miss then?" you moved to sit beside her on the bed, both you and alessia watching the night agent together.

"another murder, loads of anonymous phone calls, nothing serious." alessia shrugged, whining as you smacked her leg. "who got murdered! thats not a detail to be skipped over russo." you clicked your tongue as she playfully rolled her eyes.

"maybe if you hadn't watched ahead and forced me to catch up, i might have been more forth coming with information." alessia shrugged pulling a face as you scoffed.

"i only watched ahead because you bailed on dinner last week!" you teased shoving her. "oh i am so sorry for being sick and not wanting to share germs, how horribly selfish of me." alessia gasped as you nodded. "i'm so glad you're finally seeing it from my point of view." you sighed, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides.

"no no no i'm sorry!" you begged, trying to push her off as her fingers attacked, poked and prodded at your sides. "less!" you laughed out, trying to shove her off as the two of you grappled, alessia now squealing as your hand poked at her ribs which were just as ticklish as yours.

"okay okay, truce!" alessia panted out, your body half on top of hers as your hands left one anothers bodys and you collapsed a little into her, both of you vibrating against one another with much more gentle laughter.

a silence fell between you as you pulled your head off of her chest, glancing down at her and finding yourself immediately sucked into the vibrant baby blue pools of her affectionate gaze.

alessia's own eyes also locked in with yours, suddenly becoming very aware of the close and pressed together nature of your bodies, the taller girl pushing herself up ever so slightly, noticing you didn't recoil away as her face was now mere centimeters from yours.

her eyes searched your face for any sign that you didn't want this as much as she did, coming up a little unsure unable to completely read your expression decided to just take a chance.

you weren't caught completely off guard at the sudden feel of her soft lips pressed to yours, but your breath did hitch slightly as her hands ever so carefully cupped your face, deepening it a little but not pushing things too far.

but that tiny adjustment in position was all it took for the alarm bells to ring in the back of your head and your walls to shoot right back up from where she'd spent weeks scaling over them and sneaking her way into your life.

so you pulled away and sat up, forcing your eyes away and missing how her face fell at your change in body language, regret burning her mouth like it was full of bitter ashes.

"i am so sorry, i should go." alessia managed out, sitting up as you caught the hints of insecurity in her tone and she quickly hurried out of your bedroom. "less wait!" you rushed after her and grabbed her wrist as she stood by your front door, heart feeling as if someone was squeezing it in their fists at the look on her face.

"i do like you, really. but i come with...a lot of baggage." you sighed out, alessia's face curving downward into a frown.

"i have a child alessia. bella is my life and i would never ever do anything to confuse or hurt her, and bringing people in and out of my life that aren't just friends can be really hard to understand at her age." you started, running a hand through your hair with another sigh.

alessia waited a moment to see if you continued, but when you didn't she took intitiative to speak up for herself.

"i'd love to say i understand that but i don't have a child so that would be a lie. but i know bringing someone romantically into your circle can be a lot, with or without other things going on-" alessia started softly.

"-but i really like bella. i wasn't lying when she said she is literally the coolest kid i've ever met, and looking at her mum its no wonder she is such a special, kind and loving little human being. but again, i can imagine that at her age it can be really scary to dangle someone in front of her that she bonds with and connects with and when things don't work out and they leave, how hard it would be to explain why." alessia continued sincerely, gaze locked with yours.

"i would never rush you into anything. obviously this is different than a normal relationship when there's a third parties feelings being taken into consideration, but i promise to never overstep with that, everything can be on your terms." alessia promised, a lump in your throat at the tenderness her words seemed to carry.

alessia found herself pulling you into a hug, your body melting perfectly into hers as you found a warmth blossoming in your chest as your face pressed into her shoulder, her strong arms holding you tight within them, chin hooking over your shoulder as she stood a head or so taller.

"i also really like you, and i've loved getting to know both you and bella. i'd love to see where this might go but i know there's more to think about than just you and i, so i promise i'm happy being friends too. just...think it over." at those words she let you go, tugging your door open and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before suddenly she was gone, only the lingering feeling of her lips against your skin all that was left.

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