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#ghost is unwell in the head
forestshadow-wolf · 7 months
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Ghost IS scary dog privilege. Like don't mess with him or the people he cares about because he can and will fuck you up. Actually- just behave yourself. Don't even risk being racist, or misogynistic, or homophobic near him, you don't know what he'll do. Don't even risk it, that motherfucker could rip you in half
But soap is crazy, insane, feral dog. Sure ghost is menacing, but soap? Soap is scary. Ghost will go for the jugular, but soap will go for the balls. Soap is insane. And he's good too, because you don't think anything of him. To you he's a normal guy. To the dude that slapped his partner, or the person still stuck with the racism of 1932, or the overly Christian lady who called the nice couple on the corner "unnatural", to them he's something else. Something far more sinister.
And Don't even get me started on what happens if you insult either of them to the other's face. Shit, man, that happened in front of price once, never again. That was so much worse than anything he's ever seen on the battle field. Maybe not physically, but mentally, emotionally, spiritually, every way other than physical.
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ghostdrinkssoup · 1 year
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no one understands the gallery scene in s3a actually changed me it’s like tasting ambrosia and it fucking up your tastebuds forever so you can no longer eat normal food like how can I ever look at any romantic scene the same way ever again nothing else can compare I feel ruined like I’ve been left out on the sidewalk to suffer in the rain under the moonlight
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grinchwrapsupreme · 10 months
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ok i keep seeing people say that the captain must have served in WWI because of his age. Personally, I don't think he did because of how he behaves in the flashbacks in Redding Weddy (and, more obviously, his lack of medals showing a lack of involvement) but I don't think we'll ever know for sure, it doesn't seem important to his character and he hasn't made any references to anything outside of WWII let alone the first one. So just for kicks, here's a list of possible reasons the Captain didn't serve:
Reserved Occupation: conscription exempted a lot of people due to a variety of reasons and about 1/3 eligible men were exempted due to RO. Basically it means that men who were in jobs considered important could only be conscripted in a very narrow age margin (they could volunteer but they didn't have to go) such as vets, clergymen, miners (complicated situation for that one), and a variety of men who worked in engineering or industrial related jobs (including those who worked in munitions (sound familiar?))
Health: there's a whole variety of health problems that could exempt an otherwise fit man including asthma, arthritis, a rash even. It could literally have been a passing illness or a childhood problem that passed by the time WWII rolled around, just a bit of bad luck that hit him at just the wrong time (or it could have been bad knees that he lied about 20 years later)
Conscientious Objection: I don't think it's this one, that guy loves war, he wants to fight so bad, but I'm not going to just not put it here
Age: LISTEN. We don't know the Captain's canon age. At his youngest I would say he was born in 1900, putting him at 46ish when he died (the age Ben was when Ghosts first started (he could easily be older and in fact probably is idk (Ben help me out here ple-))) which would mean when the war kicked off he was 14 and conscription began he was only 16. He would have hit conscription age at 18 in 1918 which was the year the war ended. Conscription continued until 1920 but the fighting was "officially" over so they wouldn't have been calling on as many people and he might have been passed over for someone more fit, more healthy, less reserved occupationy etc. etc. I don't think it was this one either but for posterity here it is. Or he was conscripted late which would lead to
Training: This one happened to my own relative during WWI. If Cap came of age during the war, which he would have if he died anywhere between the ages of 46-50, he would have been conscripted and trained in England during the war. If the war ended while he was still in training he might never have been sent out at all despite being the right age for it. Any of the above could also have caused this - a bad rash, a nasty cough, being too young, working in a factory building ships, and so on - but it might very well have happened and would have prevented him from seeing any medal-worthy action or getting the experience needed to make him less of a nervous wreck leading to the Cap we see in Redding Weddy
To conclude: the Captain might have served in WWI but he could just as easily not have. We'll probably never know and any interpretation of his backstory is both valid and a very interesting read into his character
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andragoras-in-vanity · 4 months
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woke up from a wonky dream, im starting to forget it but basically the message i was left with by some russian tarot cards and a creepy photo of some child on halloween was 'do not yearn for luxury ' and like..
bitch????? the fuck was that for you wole me up feeling like i was having a heart attack and showed a demonic thrift store and a sky the colour of ash and fire then tell me not to want a nicer life???? rude af ngl.
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lonelystarrs · 6 months
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𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉.
𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗭𝗲𝗻’i𝗻 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
His gambling and betting habits often got himself into situations he’d rather not be in, it’s what landed him here at this stupid Halloween party with his utter goof of a girlfriend, but there were plans hiding under that ridiculous outfit.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI + smut + crack + size kink + ghostface! Toji + whip use + switch reader + mean Toji + public sex +
4.7k smut fic • I am unwell • enjoy my terrible humour. Kinktober
Part Two: Maid Zen’in
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You thought you were real fucking funny didn’t you? Turning up in that ridiculous outfit.
Gojo was already cackling and elbowing Toji in the side.
“It’s hilarious, you sure got a keeper huh Zen’in?”
Toji rolled his eyes, thick shoulders hunching more and biceps bulging from his arms crossed. His ghostface mask sitting on the side of his head so he could literally drink his way out of this.
“Gotta admit, I still would.”
“Yeah? Feel free.” Toji sneered, trying so hard not to watch you but it was hard not to, you were busting out moves on the dance floor and because of the air filled suit, the moves were impossible to actually see them.
No matter where he looked, he could see the air filled horn bobbing around above the heads of others in the crowd of people at the club, the laser lights illuminating to the music as you danced with no care in the world amongst a group of people.
You said you were coming as a murderous unicorn, which was ridiculous enough, but what you were wearing was anything but fucking murderous, maybe to Toji’s ego and pride. The mane was rainbow, the white blow up body suit you had on filled with air and a pair of heels.
Fucking designer, red bottom strappy heels, in that costume.
“Yo, Zenin, isn’t that your girl?”
“No.” Toji denied it many times this evening, even though those asking knew otherwise.
Gojo cackled again, elbowing Suguru who joined the conversation as he watched you moving on the dance floor having far too much fun for your own good, the air filled suit making you move in a way that was fucking hilarious to the six eyes.
Toji knew why you were doing it, because you’d gotten into a argument this morning and he’d made a snide remark about something he didn’t even remember quite frankly, either way you’d fallen out and had been giving him the cold shoulder all day. Even meeting him here instead of coming with him.
Now though he was glad for the distance, soon as he seen you he couldn’t help but think thank fuck he walked into this club alone. He just had to bear witness to you flirting with the bouncers as they bantered with you about your outfit.
He wore a black tight muscle shirt, with black jeans, a holster on his chest with two big hunting knives either side and a ghost mask.
He looked like a threat, like something suitable for Halloween, you just looked like a girl living her princess dream prancing around like a pony. It was your whole idea coming to this thing in the first place and the only reason he was going was because he lost a bet with you, his damn gambling habit presenting her karma for him finding any opportunity to bet irresistible.
“Eh, she is sure giving it beans with those dance moves.” Satoru couldn’t help himself, his eyes were twinkling with amusement, he couldn’t stop watching you.
“I’m surprised you came, Toji, not usually your kind of thing.” Suguru at least was less bothersome on the topic.
“Oh look she’s on her way over!”
It was embarrassing watching you waddle through the crowds, beaming a smile that was only making his jaw clench and when you eyed him, giving him a flirty look of acknowledgment before changing your pace to a flirty strut, Toji nearly walked away.
“Hey handsome, do you wanna feed the pony?”
Gojo Satoru lost it beside you, bellowing a laugh at your over the top flirtation and even Suguru started to laugh.
“-cause you make me so hooooorny T.”
Your hands lifted to flick the bobbling horn on your head and Toji grabbed his mask pulling it back over his face before storming off to the bar again. Leaving Gojo to strut up to you and smack a hand on your shoulder in some kind of praise, perhaps he should just let you both date.
Perfectly suited for each other and the six eyes did have a thing for you, the sulking for two weeks after Toji first claimed you as his girl was enough of a clue. Let alone the remarks Satoru made towards you, his eyeballing and offering to date you instead of Toji.
But you’d always refused.
And he was kinda glad, as odd as it could be at times you did bring some fun to Toji’s life, a perfectly grown women when needed but that side of you that had zero ability to be embarrassed was troublesome, but at times entertaining. He could banter with you in a way he couldn’t with females usually and you only dished it back.
But the sex, fuckkkk the sex. You were insatiable and you’d even made his eyes almost cross a few times, how you sucked his cock was unworldly and lucky for him you couldn’t get enough of doing it.
Toji took a seat at the bar, ordering a strong whiskey to try give him some hope on getting through this evening with some sanity, how long he was sat there he didn’t know, but being alone only gave the opportunity for girls to come up to him.
So you wanted to play huh?
He could play, perhaps make you regret trying to show him up like that.
He entertained it, a girl in an angle costume coming up, her tits out held by some flimsy looking material that Toji could so easily rip from her, some skimpy white skirt that was hiding nothing, white stockings on show and pretty blonde hair.
She wasn’t exactly horrifying, but this was what girls went for this time of year, not like he was complaining -he was a guy after all.
She twirled her finger around a strand of hair, battering her eye lashes at him.
“You’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh yeah?” Toji smirked, turning in his seat to face her, giving her the once over, “—how so?”
Toji played it clever, soaking up the praise instead of giving it just because if you were looking you’d be none the wiser. As much of a woman jumper as he used to be Toji was loyal when treated well, and treated well by you he certainly was.
The blonde reached out to trace a finger on his muscles, dragging an acrylic nail down the line between his bicep.
“You’re huge-“
“So I’ve been told,”
“Anything else big about you?”
Toji chuckled tilting his head to her when she bravely gripped his arm and squeezing the bicep, just as he was about to say that’s enough a riding crop slammed down between them, hitting the bar with enough force everyone sat there spun around.
“Hey angel face, he flexing his muscles for you hmm? He’s such a show off, thought I trained him better than that.”
Toji knew that tone, the kind that made him lay back let you ride him until you were spent, the kind that kinda made him melt a little inside for you —not like you’d ever, in a million fucking years, know that.
Green eyes turned to meet you, expecting to see you in that ridiculous blow up unicorn suit, instead it was gone and suddenly he was wondering where the hell it was so he could put it back on you to stop the amount of looks you were getting.
Stood there with the lights dancing around you in leather chaps with studs, a leather bra with a body harnesses a fucking pink gag horse bit dangling down your neck resting between your collar bones and bright red lipstick, hair into a clean, high ponytail with a crop in hand.
And he knew his dick was gonna be under those red bottomed heels this evening.
You had a black, glittery horn on your head that had red glitter spilling down it that imitated blood, along with make up running down your forehead in red glitter.
This was your damn take on a murderous unicorn?
The blonde went to open her mouth, but you beat her to it, pressing the crop under her chin and closing it for her.
“Shh, this guy-“ you stepped forward and Toji reached for you, standing behind you as he pulled you in, a large hand made its way around your neck to grip it from behind “-he doesn’t fuck angels, he’s too corrupt for that.”
The smirk that spread over his face was nasty, tilting your head back into his chest and pressing his lips to yours, going straight for your bottom lip with his teeth and pulling.
He felt you moan against his tongue as it swiped your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Playin’ a dangerous game comin’ out like this doll,”
“Yeah?”
Toji hummed whilst kissing you upside down again,
“Yeah, s’get outta here-“
“Or-“ you span around in his arms, leaned up to him and brushed your lips against his, “-we can use the private room back there for VIP.”
Toji rose an eyebrow at you, you only grinning at him and grabbing his hand to lead the way through the groups of people until you both reached a gold door, the bouncer there nodded at you and Toji rose an eyebrow.
Since when did you know people on that level to only be acknowledged through nodding?
Your back hit the door the moment it shut and Toji was on you within seconds, hand gripping your neck and squeezes it in the way he knew made your cunt clench, choking you lightly whilst tilting your head up to him feeling your little moan on his palm against your throat.
“What you got goin’ on in that head of yours sweetheart? I ain’t stupid.”
You shrugged, “-nothing really, but I am wondering if you wanna make a lil bet again.”
Toji rose an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look around the room, it wasn’t huge, the seats were black trimmed with gold in a booth shape with a small table off to the side.
“Keep talkin’”
“I’m thinking, you let me take control and if you lose it I win.”
Toji snorted a laugh, “-you won’t even get my cock in that tight lil cunt without my help doll, you think you’re gonna manage with me just sitting back?”
“If I need your help, then I lose.”
He released you and stepped back until he let himself slump back onto the booth, spreading his legs and his arms across the top of the booth, one hand reaching down to unbuckle his belt and undo the button to his jeans, pulling the zipper down. His skin tight top riding up showing the lines of his V that lead to a cock too big for most girls to handle. The black pubic trail of hair also leading a line down into his boxers.
“C’mon then sweetheart, it’s all yours.”
He was snide, cocky with how he was sat spread out and you smirked at him stepping forwards, pressing the crop under his chin and tilting it up to you looking down on him, his green eyes glazed with sly intention, his smirk only aiding it.
“You’re not allowed to touch me, clear?”
Toji rolled his eyes and shrugged “-whatever you say, boss. You’ll be begin’ for me too long before I need to.”
Toji’s eyes widened when you actually smacked the crop across his face, anger filtered through him briefly at you having the fucking balls to even think you’d get away with it, but when he looked back at you, eyes half hooded with some kind of pissed off look he only felt his cock throb. The leather you wore was glistening in the low lights, hugging every curve and pressing your tits up perfectly.
“Less snark, Zen’in, it’s boring me.”
Holy shit —fuck you were still surprising him 2 years into this damn relationship, how the hell had you hidden this from him? You had attitude, that was never hidden and fucking it outta you was borderline impossible, but it didn’t mean keeping you fucked dumb didn’t work until you got bratty again.
He glared at you, hands balling into fists and his jaw clenched, the red welt forming on his cheek as he held eyes with you.
“Don’t push it,”
“I plan to, Toji, or do you feel yourself losing patience already? Might be an easy win for me after all.”
You litt-
Toji groaned, his stomach tensing as the ball of your foot pressed into his semi hard dick only encourage it to harden under it, his hips rolled and his head tilted back, keeping eyes with you as you watched his reaction.
“Been thinking about sucking you off all night, my mouths watering over it T.”
“As said doll, it’s all yours.”
You hummed and stepped forward, pulling his jeans down just enough to free his dick as it slapped against his stomach, pre drooling from the tip into the deep lines of his six pack.
“You’re drooling already, Toji.”
He watched as you lowered yourself between his legs, bending forward to run your tongue between the lines of his six pack collecting pre on your tongue, teasingly running it around the head of his dick not touching it directly, only grazing the tip with the underside of your tongue. Your eyes never leaving his as your placed your hands on his thighs.
“That’s it-“ Toji sucked in air, his muscles tensing under your tongue as he watched you, eyes focused on your tongue glistening with drool and pre.
You pressed a kiss to the underside of his head, peppering them down the length of him before your tongue pressed to the base and ran up to the tip again, letting a glob of spit drip to cover it. His cock flexed against his stomach, smearing the spit along his skin as it rested heavy on his stomach.
His eyes rolled back when you finally wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking before bobbing your head with your hand twisting, keeping to the top of his dick and moving your tongue around the head. His hips bucked, fingers digging into the booths padding to stop himself reaching out, cause all he wanted was to grip your hair and fuck your face like a fleshlight. See how watery your eyes got, watch the drool spilling down your chin, see how well your throat bulged out from his dick, pressing his hand against your throat to feel himself fucking you.
But he was a man of strong will, even if his toes were curling in his shoes as you worked his cock like a dream, the squelching of your mouth as spit started to dribble down his dick. You kept going in the same pattern, twisting your hand when it separated from your mouth bobbing and sucking him in, your tongue swirling around this head giving him constant friction.
“Gonna suck the cum outta me? Fuck -hah- shit doll, that your fucking plan?”
He felt you laugh on him, pulling away with a pop and drool down your cheeks, red lip stick smeared on your lips and his dick.
Your eyes all glassy and panting lightly looking at him with fuck me eyes and his heart thumped against his rib cage, kicking away in a flutter that only pissed him off. He knew he liked you, way too fucking much for his own sanity and it pissed him off that you got under his skin in a way he couldn’t get enough of.
But how you looked right now? Between his thick thighs, running your tongue up and down his big cock that looked so huge in your hands, staring at him with eyes like that, willingly making a mess of yourself on him?
Fuck it took everything in him to not reach out and kiss you stupid, to bury his cock into you and let you cum over and over on him in a love language only he could give.
You didn’t reply, instead you stood and placed your feet on the booth seat either side of him, then lifting your right to place beside his head, hovering your cunt over him as you ran two fingers over your clothed pussy.
“No Toji, that’s not my plan.”
He groaned when you pushed the material aside, letting him view your glistening cunt as it drooled with slick. He was half expecting you to let him touch you at this point, his cock flexing against his stomach as his own pre started to leak into his muscle lines again. Watching as one hand spread yourself open for him, the other rolling around your clit.
It was cruel how you moaned above him, it was mean as you pressed two fingers into your tight hole letting him watch you spread yourself open for him.
“You’re clenching around those fingers, they ain’t deep enough are they sweetheart? Trying to act like a little whore but you can’t fuck yourself like that, y’need me, so why don’t you just give in?”
Toji reached for his own cock, wrapping a fist around himself slowly stroking.
“-sit on my face, get that other leg up and put that pussy where it it belongs hmm? I’ll get you cummin’ how you like.”
Pulling your fingers back covered in slick you toyed with your clit again, hips rolling as you lowered yourself to his face.
“S’it baby, she needs my mouth hmm? I know what she needs-“
“M’gonna cum-“ Toji hid his sneer as he watched you pick up your pace, rolling your clit around your slick covered fingers and he could see your little hole clenching around nothing, fluttering as you came.
His nice attitude left him, sneering an insult under his breath as you cummed over his face, thinking he almost had you breaking the bet by caving first.
“Open your mouth T, I’ll let you catch it,”
Green eyes focused on the clear slick starting to drool from your fluttering hole, a link forming and he held his tongue out, letting the sweetness of you coat it.
“You’re so fucking hot, honestly.” Toji hummed at your praise and taste of you, your foot retreated from besides his head, falling to your knees either side of him, eyes all glassy and pretty, pink dusting across your cheeks.
Your hand reached down to grab his dick from his own hands, wrapping a hand around him and rubbing his head at your hole.
“You’re brave but you ain’t doin’ that without me. No fucking chance.”
You hummed and let your weight start to drop onto him, the stretch already too much as his thick head pushed through the tight ring of muscle, both moaning at the feel of it, your warmth starting to swallow him in.
He gave an airy chuckle when he seen you panting, struggling to take him when you got half way.
“What’s wrong brat? Thought you had this, you look like you’re struggling to me.”
You glared at him, reaching up and turning the ghost face mask on the side of his head to cover him completely.
“Shut up you asshole,”
His patience was dancing on thin ice, the need to thrust into you and bury you to hilt, to bully the rest of his thick cock into you was making his nerves jump. As much as he tried to ignore the need to grip your hips and slam into you, to fuck you until you seen stars and begged him to stop was overwhelming.
However when you slammed yourself down onto him, his head tilted back.
“Ah fuck- you little brat-“
Your hands gripped his shoulders and you spread your knees further from him, already feeling so full. You looked up only to see him tilting his head back, his breathing picking up and his hips stuttering under you fighting the instinct to move.
You couldn’t see his face, covered by the ghost face mask and it only made it hotter. Your hands gripped the material either side of it and tilted him to look at you.
When you started to bounce on him, your walls tightened around him still trying to adjust, his eyes rolled back under the mask only opening again to see you above him looking fucked out.
“Shit, sweetheart y-you’re, fuck me, shit, y’fucking yourself dumb on this fat dick?”
You nodded dumbly at him giving him a panty ‘uh-huh’ as you sank yourself down on him again.
“Harder, if you’re gonna fuck this dick do it harder, I wanna see you strugglin’ on it.”
His hands were flexing on the booth, he started to fidget under you as you kept a pace that was no where close to getting you both to cum, he wasn’t a fool, he ever was a stupid man…
He knew you were doing it to break him first and when that thought crept into his head about giving in, he couldn’t ignore it.
You felt wet, you sounded soaking and he could feel your slick drooling down past his balls. Fucking him with this mask on like he was some toy for you was in fucking credible.
To top it all off you had the balls to smack him with that whip, the boss him around which no one done, and you were both in public.
He wanted your mouth, fuck he wanted your tongue down his throat as you whimpered into him.
He was never one who bothered about consequences, never one to care about repercussions.
“You never told me -hah- you never said what the loser has to do.”
“Maid outfit-“ you painted out, “-fucking you in this mask is so hot, fuck your dick is made f’me T.”
“Maid outfit? Loser wears one?”
You nodded dumbly and he chuckled, that’s it?
“That’s it? Fuck this-“
Toji reached up, tearing the mask off and throwing it across the booth, his large hands reaching down to grab your ass painfully.
“You ain’t walkin’ outta here pretty girl, I ain’t carrying you either-“ your eyes widened as he pulled from you , his tip just stretching you out as a wild smirk blew across his face, his eyes almost dots as he looked at you like he was about to kill you “-you little brat, I’m gonna watch you struggle then I’m gonna fuck you even harder when we get home.”
He seen your face fall, the regret perhaps dancing across your eyes and he soaked it up knowing it would fade by tomorrow. Knowing you’d be your cocky self all over again.
And he couldn’t wait.
His pace was brutal, hips slapping up into you with such force your skin was starting to sting, the leather of your outside screeching with each movement.
“Kiss, now-“ his demand was through panting, his breathing heavy as he worked his body to bully his cock inside of you, you gave him wanted he wanted as your whimpers and moans vibrated against his tongue. He swallowed each noise, his hands bruising on your ass cheeks as he held onto them for life.
Then you made a noise he’d never heard, almost a sob that mixed with a moan.
“Atta girl, keep making that noise-“ your arms wrapped around his neck, burying your face into it as your body stuttered and he knew he hit the place he was looking for, “-there it is, gonna cum for me you little slut? Can feel her squeezing me, she’s so tight”
He moaned into your ear, teeth biting at it as he coaxed you into coming with harsh words.
“M’cumming, holy shit Toji-Toji slow down, fuck m’gonna cum!”
“Do it then, I want her sucking the cum outta me, gonna have it drooling down your legs when we get outta here, whole clubs gonna see you’re a slut.”
The moan you gave was pained, frustrated as you danced on the edge of cumming, that coil so tight in your stomach, feeling like you were gonna snap but it wasn’t happening.
“Fuck!” You growled out in frustration into his neck, shifting yourself against him and he chuckled.
“She’s as stubborn as you huh?” He wrapped an arm around you, turning you so your back landed on the booth seat and his other hand grabbed the mask he flung off, pulling it back over his head as he towered over you.
“Look at you, tiny, pathetic little thing- look so dumb all cock drunk,” he rotated his cock inside you, hips moving in a circle as he looked down on you in the ghost mask.
Your hands reaching up to grip his biceps that bulged from holding his weight above you and he looked huge, made you feel like nothing under him. The low light of the room almost blocked out by his shoulders.
He started to rut into you, pressing a thumb to your clit and rolling rough circles around it. A strangled noise leaving you as your hips bucked up, tears welling in your eyes as your body started to shake under him.
“It’s too much, T-Toji it’s too much.”
“Yeah? Deal with it, I’m gonna cum soon and I don’t give a shit if you don’t,”
The panic on your face was enough to make him smirk under the mask, rolling his thumb around your clit harshly knowing it would be too much to actually make you cum.
“I want to,” your head rolled back and tears finally fell from your eyes in frustration, fucked beyond the point of cumming for him as you felt that knot slipping away left with raw, frustrating over stimulation from his rough handling.
“Then cum like a slut, you know how to do it.”
He moved his thumb, slowing his pace to harder thrusts that made your body jolt, tits bounce with each delayed, wet plap, plap, plap of his dick bullying into you.
When your eyes glazed over, your body relaxed under him he knew he had you were he wanted, Toji dropped to his elbows, leaning down to your ear as his hips worked to keep you both going.
“Baby-“ he cooed into you, voice slightly muffled under the mask, “-you feel good, pussy made f’me yeah?”
He felt you nod dumbly, your moans jolted by his hips.
“And dicks made for ya, sweetheart, she’s sucking me in so well.”
He knew he was contradicting himself making a fucking idiot out of his previous taunting that he’d cum without you, but seeing you actually frustrated, tears spilling down and you struggled made the little empathy he had in life flicker.
He kept his short punches, his lower stomach rubbing against your clit and keeping his cock punching that spot inside you until you cried out, suddenly cumming around him violently. Clinging onto him for dear life and sobbing after, pushing his mask off again so you could look at him.
“Damn girl, you’re -“ he groaned at your face, absolutely ruined from his rough treatment, your lipstick smeared, eyeliner smudged with drool and tears.
Your walls fluttering around him brought him with you, curling himself over you until he folded you up, burying himself balls deep as he emptied into you, stuttering, airy curses leaving him as he convulsed against you, hips jolting as your walls pressed around him swimming his dick in cum.
You were slack under him and his energy spent as he almost fell into you, burying his face into your neck as your panting filled the room.
Bodies aching as you pulled apart, Toji sitting back on the booth and leaning his head back, chest still heaving to bring air into his lungs.
He side glanced at you, looking at your pretty face before moving down to your swollen hole leaking cum from it. Toji reached out and patted your public bone.
“She takes me like a champ-“
You deadpanned, before sitting up onto your elbows still recovering with a breathy voice.
“She doesn’t have a choice, you monster.”
Your foot playfully pushed him and he grabbed it, bringing it up to his head so he could kiss the inside of your ankle.
“Seem to be dealin’ with it just fine,”
“So, you liked the unicorn thing?”
“No. Don’t ever do it again, I’ll leave your ass and Gojo can have you.”
“Really? Cause I was thinking of a new theme song, it’s a twist on the original-“
“Don’t sing it,”
“My lil pony, you wanna bone me~?“
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©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.
If you want Toji in the maid outfit here’s the link to the next part : Maid Zen’in
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llamagoddessofficial · 2 months
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How would your Sanses act when they are getting sick and MC takes care of them?
AWW we've done so many scenarios about the boys looking after a sick Mc. It's long past due their turn to be sick!
Sans: When he's sick, he just absolutely koalas onto you. He loses all his inhibitions and sticks to you like glue. It doesn't matter what he's doing, how aware he is, how weak or sick he feels, he will follow you to the ends of the earth to cuddle you. Cooking? He's hugging you from behind the whole time you cook. Doing laundry? He's sitting beside you, snoozing with his head on your shoulder. At first, you might try to encourage him to lay down and go to sleep before you try to sneak off and do something, but as soon as you get there he appears like a half-asleep ghost to hold onto you. There's no escape. Even Papyrus can't save you.
If anything, it's a nice opportunity to wind down. You have to - you have no choice. It's also very cute when Sans is woozy and snuggly.
Red: For very obvious reasons, Red does not like being sick. He's a macho man!! He doesn't need babying!! Red frequently hides/downplays how unwell he feels, and the more sick he gets the more snappish and foul-tempered he becomes. He won't admit he's ill until he's absolutely wrecked. Even when he's figuratively on death's door, he's extremely combative and aggressive, he refuses pretty much all help. Being sick means being weak, and he cannot be weak.
... Unless it's you. When you're around, he's a big delirious flirty idiot, and he'll do whatever you say. If his brother so much as gently suggests he should have some water, Red bristles and starts a fight. But when you tell him to lay the fuck down and take his medicine like a big boy... well, who is he to argue with a pretty face?
"hey. humans can't get monster sicknesses, right? maybe you should give me a kiss. right here. might make me heal faster."
"Be quiet and drink your soup."
"yes ma'am."
Skull: It makes a lot of sense for Skull to get sick around you, if you think about it. His mind and body have been in a constant state of stress for such a long time, never allowing him to slip, not even for a moment; being with you finally allows him to relax enough to get ill.
Despite his generally eeby nature, Skull isn't very good at 'turning off'. He always wants to be helping, doing something for you, making something or fixing something, providing. He feels like a bad husband if he's not helping. He'll regularly need steering back to bed - he shuffles into the room, half-aware and with his blanket still draped around his shoulders, wanting to help with whatever you're doing despite absolutely needing to rest. If you leave him alone too long he'll start quietly doing chores.
Fun fact, it's actually scientifically proven that Skull heals faster if you treat him like the big baby he is. Put a blanket over him and a cup of tea on the coffee table, give him kisses while he drifts in and out of sleep. Turn on your favourite TV show and stay with him all day, pet his cranium when his head hurts, gently sing to him until he falls asleep. He spends so much time being the provider, the caregiver, the hunter, the gatherer, the protector. And as much as he adores caring for you... he completely forgot how it felt to be the one being cared for.
He doesn't mind being reminded. He doesn't mind at all.
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skylarsblue · 1 year
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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦
Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*
-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-
-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-
-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…
-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.
-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-
-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-
-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!
-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)
-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.
-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-
-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.
-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.
-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.
-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-
-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.
-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-
-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?
-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.
(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)
-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.
-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.
-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.
--
(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.
-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.
-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!
-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-
-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.
-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.
-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.
-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.
-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!
-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.
-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.
-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*
-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*
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alwaysshallow · 1 month
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Price would not let people disrespecting his wife slide. Like you think hes gonna let the asshole get away with harassing reader? NO. MF better watch his front, back, sides, 360 all around because hes coming👹.
Simon can and WILL casually take a skillet from the kitchen section and bonk the fucker’s head. Is he dead? Who knows. Don’t question🤫. That skillet produces 3 Cs: cheese steak, concussions, and corpses.
Gaz is ARTISTIC in his approach. He tripped them on the curb so not only did they fall into the mud, they broke their arm and chipped their teeth. Earned them a trip to the ER and dentists💕
Imagine a Scottish drill sergeant yelling at you and you cant understand his Scottish. 💀.
-💸
dare i say, every man of tf141 will kill you if you'd disrespect THE wife, lmao. they're more or less obvious about it, but the scary dog privilege is alive and breathing.
i think the most dramatic yet calm is ghost; because he'd really kill someone just for one comment, no matter how it hurt you. if you're feeling unwell just because of one man, he doesn't deserve to be out here.
gaz? pretty much theartening the guy, making his life living hell lmao. small things, like being the worst customer he can be or sending the guys over to be like this for him. whatever works
soap pretty much gets the guy beat up, forces him to leave work/area where the guy lives. a bit of stalking behavior too if i may
price pretty much gaz+ghost behavior, depending on your opinion, though. he'll straight up ask you what do you prefer, killing or just making his life miserable:) he listens to his wife!!
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ghosts-bandwagon · 9 months
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I can feel myself getting sick! And I hit my head super hard today and I’ve had a crazy headache ever since! So here’s the 141 taking care of their sick idiot s/o!
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
He heard it the moment you spoke for the first time that day, you sounded congested and nasally
He made you some tea and heated up some soup, you laughed and asked about occasion
You knew you were getting sick but you’re a stubborn bitch so that means that you’re not sick and everything is fine
He knows you so he just shrugs and asks what’s wrong with soup for breakfast
He lets you go about the day, only stepping in when he sees you’re getting fatigued, discreetly suggesting you two lay down and watch a movie in bed
You’re getting the snacks ready when you drop the unopened bag of popcorn, as you’re straightening up you slammed your head on the granite countertop
It was so loud, Simon sprinted across the living room to make sure you were ok
He looked at your head and made sure you weren’t bleeding, when he didn’t see any surface damage he rushed to the freezer and pressed an ice pack on the back of your head
It was a little embarrassing and it took a lot to resist the urge to cry, he saw how much you were laughing to and playing it up and knew you felt worse than you let on
He guided you to bed, ice pack still pressed o your head, he ushered you under the covers, checking to make sure you weren’t concussed
Simon brewed a fresh cup of tea with a generous amount of honey and a light squeeze of lemon
He put on the movie and had a handful of throat lozenges in his pocket at the ready, fingers running through your hair, checking in on you and monitoring your symptoms
He blames himself for not interfering sooner but hearing your small cough and feeling you nuzzle into his chest made him feel needed, it was nice taking care of you, and a refreshing new way of being relied on
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
You kinda have to tell him if you’re feeling unwell
Not to say he doesn’t notice it when he sees you a little more fatigued and glassy eyed than usual
But as soon as you tell him you’re throat’s hurting, he’s up and making you some tea, while it’s brewing, he’s getting some cold medicine together and queuing your favorite movie
While he’s doing that he hears a loud ‘thunk’ and immediately runs over to check on you, he sees the cabinet door open and he sees you bent over and cradling your head
He can’t help the chuckle that comes out but he immediately shuts his mouth the moment he catches your glare
He fishes in the freezer for the ice pack and presses it against your head, he sends you to lay down on the couch but he catches you wobbling as you’re walking
He was at your side in a second, he hurried back to the kitchen and got some water for you
He sat beside you and rubbed your back, careful of his volume and careful not to move you too much
Needless to say, you didn’t lift a finger the rest of the day
John Price:
Like Ghost, he heard it in your voice when you first said ‘good morning’
Except he was more adamant on catching it sooner rather than later, he made you some Theraflu and didn’t move an inch until you finished it
If he heard you cough throughout the day, he’d magically appear with a cough drop ready for you to eat
Your water bottle doesn’t have a chance to be empty, same thing with your tea cup, it always managed to stay filled
You were loading up the laundry machine when you smacked your head hard against the rim, it was so loud John was at your side in a heartbeat
He cradled your head and checked your scalp for a cut or any blood, when he didn’t see any he gently applied pressure and walked you both to the kitchen where he grabbed the ice pack
He guided you to the bedroom where he instructed you to sit on the bed, he noticed your walking was a little uneven and all his training came to him in a split second
He walked you to the bed and knelt down in front of you, asked you to follow his fingers, took out his phone and turned on his flashlight, checking your pupils and asking you to follow it
He held the ice pack firmly against your head and ran down the list of symptoms, asking you and making sure you were ok
He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the day unfortunately for your partially loaded laundry
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:
You told him that morning that you were feeling congested and he went to pharmacy as soon as you mentioned it
When he came back, he saw you doubled over and clutching your head, he sets the bags down and hurried to your side
“Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked, you explained that you dropped your phone under the table and didn’t realize how close you were to it when you hit your head on the edge
“Babe if you missed me that much, you could’ve called, I would’ve come back sooner.” He teased, you punched him in the arm as hard as you could,
When your punch was lighter than usual, he got worried and had you sit down on the couch
He handed you the bag full of snacks and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade for you to slowly drink
While you were doing that he went to the kitchen to grab an ice pack and wrap a towel around it
He sat beside you and handed it to you to press to the area, in the meantime he opened a package of cough lozenges and handed you one
He got up and started making your favorite ramen flavor and brewing a cup of lemon ginger tea with a generous helping of honey
He sat beside you and held the ice pack against your head while you ate, he turned the tv on to your favorite show and kissed your head and your cheek
He made sure all your needs were tended to for the day and spoiled you rotten
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frogchiro · 8 months
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this is wolf könig / ghost & bunny reader size difference in my head 🙏🏽
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I'm fucking UNWELL BC LIKE HELLO??? I NEED THIS??
But jesus christ just imagine this huge werewolf getting so angry and frustrated bc he needs to knot you and mate you but you're still too tight and small for him :(( he needs to work it in good in order to not hurt his precious mate♡♡
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drabblesandimagines · 13 days
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Nettle Soup
Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense
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--
It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.
It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.
Except it didn’t.
If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 
Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.
You powered on, as you always do.
Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.
“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”
“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”
“I recall you had second helpings.”
Oh, he had you there. Think.
“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”
“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.
“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”
That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”
You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.
You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…
..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.
“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.
“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.
“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”
“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”
“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”
Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.
“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”
You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.
A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.
“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”
Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”
He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”
Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”
“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”
Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…
But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.
You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”
He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.
“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”
You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”
“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”
--
You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.
You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.
You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.
You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.
--
Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.
He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.
A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.
White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…
You.
It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.
He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.
The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.
“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.
--
You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.
No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...
You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.
“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”
“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.
“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”
“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.
“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.
Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.
The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”
You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.
“You have a fairly high fever.”
“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.
“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”
“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”
He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”
“But-”
“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.
 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”
“I’ll try – I promise.”
He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.
--
You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.
“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”
“Oh.”
“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.
“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”
“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.
“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”
You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.
You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.
You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”
Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”
You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”
“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”
“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”
“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.
“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”
You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.
“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”
“I want a kiss.” You mumble.
He must have misheard. “What was that?”
“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”
“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”
“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Why?”
He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”
You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”
He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”
“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.
It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.
“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  
“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”
You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.
--
Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.
He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?
“Is she sick?”
“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”
“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”
Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.
Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”
“Nettles?”
“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”
Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”
“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.
“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”
“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”
“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”
“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”
“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”
“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”
He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.
“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”
“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”
“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”
“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”
“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”
“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.
“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”
“It matters not-”
“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”
“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  
“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“
“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.
Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.
“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”
Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“
“Wilted ones, they-"
“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”
Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.
“Now, wait a moment!”
--
Halsin won’t look at you.
You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.
You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.
All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.
It’s driving you mad.
Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.
You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.
You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.
“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”
“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”
“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.
“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”
“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.
“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”
“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.
“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”
“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.
He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”
“I must have done something.”
“You are mistaken.”
 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”
“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”
You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”
“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”
“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”
“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”
“A deal about what?”
“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.
“A deal about what?”
“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”
You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”
The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”
“Advantage?”
“Of your feverish state.”
“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”
“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”
“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”
He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”
“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”
He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”
“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”
“You… truly wish for it still?”
You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”
A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.
As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.
“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"
You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”
He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.
“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”
“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”
It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.
“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”
“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”
 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”
--
Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
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forestshadow-wolf · 9 months
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Ghost: do you guys ever wish you could unzip your skin and beat the dust out of it, like you would a rug?
Price:
Ghost: I do
Soap: I do
Ghost: all the time actually
Gaz:
Ghost: I think I'd be good for me
Price:
Price: okay, everyone, I think it's time to get some mental health icecream. Simon I'm very proud of you for sharing, but the only one who also feels like that is soap. And I'm pretty sure it's because he's clinically insane.
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astr0exe · 1 month
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mk, so, what about TM Reader and older keegan/Ghost (you pick 🫶🏼) with R who’s just a little menace to society, keeping character on his toes. Bein a little brat, teasin n nipping at him any day of the week but at the end of the day loves being coddled n loved??? (love your work, honestly the best!! ignore if you don’t like this ml, have a great day/night 🩷 and either NSFW or SFW is fine)
Hey ml so glad you like the my work acc makes my day seeing the support my works have, tysm for this request it was so fun to write !! sorry its probably short m like so unwell rn:(( <3
Younger!reader who is an absolute menace ?? Like always getting into trouble, either with Keegan or with the police:(( you can’t blame him !! he's just a baby.
Older!Keegan who doesn’t know the full extent of your behavior, until he does a little info / background check on you just to make sure you aren’t absolutely psychotic. What he sees is rows and rows of warnings the police have given you, but when you speak to him, you’re so lovely (mainly cause you find him fit!) 
Older!Keegan who adores you and your gremlin-like behavior, not minding when you bite and assault his neck and body with your lips. Getting turned on more than anything by the feeling of your teeth grazing his neck to get his attention. His needy puppy who will do anything for attention, like literally anything. If that's flirting with Logan or pulling his hair randomly to get him to stop doing paperwork. He doesn’t care, you’ve made him soft, so when you bite his neck whilst he is doing some work he just moans and laughs, slowly scratching your head to show you have his attention.
Younger!Reader who melts under Keegans touch and attention, instantly relaxing and just wanting to crawl into his skin. You just calm down whenever he hugs you, whispering softly into your ear even after you have abused his neck, just sweeping you up in his hold and cuddling you till you have basically fallen asleep.
Older!Keegan who knows just how to calm you down, and uses it to his advantage. Kissing you lightly even after you bit him or pulled his hair, cuddling you softly. Doing all of this just to see you blush and whine laughing at the complete mood change just because of some affection. Keegan knows this is probably a mechanism from your past but he doesn’t really care, he just loves seeing your flustered face when he plants loud and obnoxious kisses to your face.
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mydear-corinthian · 25 days
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Fainting || Shelby brothers x reader
Sypnosis: How they react when you faint. Pairings: Tommy Shelby x reader, John Shelby x reader, Arthur Shelby x reader (individual) Warnings: mentions of fainting (reader), pregnancy, skipping meals, may be out of characters, may contain a spoiler. Note: Not proofread. Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.
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THOMAS 'TOMMY' SHELBY
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🥃 His face shows calmness but deep down he is already panicking. 
🥃Tommy just went back from his paperwork in his office when he saw your son on your arms, cradling him to sleep. "Why aren't you asleep yet, love?" he asked you, giving a kiss on your forehead before taking the little baby on your arms to his instead. You sighed in exhaustion, your lips were chapped, your face was pale as a ghost, your once neat hair bun turned into a madness; little strands of your hair was detached from your messy bun.  🥃 "I was just waiting for Charlie to sleep." you answered. His brow raised a little, showing a sign of confusion. "Then why are you so pale? You look like you've seen a ghost," his fingers found the strands of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. Charlie finally stopped crying, his eyes fell down as he snuggled on his father. "I'm just tired, that's all." reassuring your husband as you replied. Your husband gently placed your child on the white wooden crib, letting the baby sleep comfortably. He was starting to get worried, your breaths aren't steady, the way you denied that you aren't fine even though you look sick, his heart itched. 
🥃 Holding your shoulders with his rough palms, he asked again, "Are you sure, (y/n)?" Your vision was starting to get cloudy, you felt like the floor and the walls were shaking, Tommy's voice felt like it was speaking to you from afar. Your hands met his hands, gripping them tightly for security before you passed out. "(Y/n)? Are yo- (y/n)!" the sight of your body falling into his arms made his sentence cut off, he gasped your name, there was a tone of a rough yell at the same time. His body shows signs of calmness except for the eyes; the eyes never lies. Thoughts were racing on his mind, full of what ifs and worrying what will happen to you.
🥃 When you woke up, Tommy was beside your bed, sleeping uncomfortably on the wooden chair. His arms were crossed, his clothes were still the same indicating that he was 100% focused on you while you passed out. You called out his name softly, trying to reach his arms. The sound of your soft voice woke him from his uncomfortable slumber. He stood almost immediately, how are you doing. "How are you now?" his palms cupping your right cheek. "I'm fine, Tommy." you replied, holding his hand that was on your cheek, caressing it with your thumb. He sighed in relief, "The nurse said you were stressed and your stomach is empty," "I know, I'm sorry. I was so busy taking care of Charlie, I forgot to eat." you replied, your head dropped, you felt embarrassed. 
🥃 His head shook, both of his palms were now on your cheeks, his glowing blue eyes locked with yours. The way he's using his eyes as his language. "Shhh.., no need to apologize, thank you for taking care of our Charlie. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you." "Thank you for understanding, love. It's okay, I understand how busy you are in the betting shop." you said, giving him a kiss which thankfully he returned it. Tommy's personal nurse knock on the door before entering your shared room, her arms carrying a plastic tray with your favorite food and a warm tea. Your husband placed the tray on the small table near the bed, giving you a plate of your food. "Eat, you'll feel better."
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JOHN SHELBY
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🚬 You've been feeling unwell lately. Your head ached, your muscles were sore, you had strange food cravings, and you felt sick in the morning. You knew what this hinted at, but you can't be positive, and the last thing that should be checked is that your period is late.
🚬It was an awful day. You vomited in the morning, and your joints hurt. Washing off the vomit from the metallic sink, you checked the date on the small white calendar beside you.
🚬 You were definitely late. For over a week now.
🚬 Sighing in exhaustion, you accepted the outcome of what would happen to you. Your partner, John, had already gotten you pregnant before. This will be your fourth child. - You weren't precisely sorry about it, but you were worried about what would happen to your unborn child, and you felt stressed out because of your job as an accountant for Shelbys. There was a lot of paperwork to be done, but not as much as Tommy had, but it was still exhausting.
🚬 It was already ten in the morning., John was gone on business, and the rest of your children were in school. The house was now yours alone, and there was food on the circular dish on the dining table that John had left for you before leaving to start his day. You finished the meal. Your stomach was now satisfied, but your muscles remained sore.
🚬 Grunting in pain, you approached to the front door as you heard a knock. You opened it to see your husband standing there. His peaky hat adorned his hair, and a light wooden toothpick displayed his lips rather than his thick tobacco. "John? Your shift isn't going to end for hours," you questioned as John entered the room and removed his hat. "I know; I just want to see you," John said. You chuckled at his response and taunted, "I'm your wife, John. You literally see me every day." "It's just that you've been feeling ill lately, and I needed to take care of you, so I left the office early," he explained, his arms gently gripping your hips.
🚬 "Honestly love, it's fine. I can handle it, I just need to re-", fefore you could finish your sentence, your head felt like it had erupted. Your temples felt like they were twisting. Your vision was becoming increasingly fuzzy, and your husband's sight was beginning to fade away. He called your name worriedly, catching your attention. He tried again, but this time louder. All you could hear was your husband calling your name and a long bell sound. His hands tightened around your hips, stabilizing your body. His eyes were filled with concern. Suddenly, your legs and muscles gave out, and your frail body fell onto his broad arms. Your face was pale and your lips were dehydrated. Panicking, he quickly lays you down on the vintage couch. He contacted his aunt, Polly, for help.
🚬 "She's pregnant." Polly announced to his nephew, who was pacing back and forth and unintentionally messing with his hair while his aunt checked on his wife. "H-How so?" he asked. "Well, maybe it's because the both of you fucked?" Polly coldly responds. This gave John an unimpressed expression. "The morning nausea, unusual cravings, the sore muscles, all that you mentioned it," she said. "Oh for fuck sakes, John, give (y/n) a rest. Every year she's fucking pregnant, control that cock of yours." Polly's statement made him laugh. John was happy that they are again to bear a kid but he can't also help but get worried and scared at the same time since getting into labour's hard. "Thank you, aunt Polly," he thanked the older Shelby, helping her make way to the door. "Take good care of her, John,"
-🚬 "I will." 🚬 You woke up, your clothes has been changed and there was a glass of water on the table near the couch you were laying down on. You called your husband's name, hoping that he was still here. "How are you, love?" he asked, combing your hair with his fingertips. "I'm fine now. John, I-I think I'm.. pregn-" "Pregnant." he cut you off. Your head tilted to the side in confusion, looking at him, his face was plastered with a big smile. "Aunt Polly told me. I called her for help when you passed out. When did you knew that you were pregnant?" "Just today, I already accepted that my period was late and I'm bearing your child again." you answered, emphasizing. "Hey, I can't help it you know, you're just so pretty, I can't help but fuc-" "John!" embarrassed by his reply, you cut him off. Your cheeks heat up at his answer. "What, it's true! Let me take care of you, love."
🚬 "As you should, Mr. Shelby." 🚬 "I will, Mrs. Shelby."
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ARTHUR SHELBY JR.
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🥊 Marriage to a man like Arthur Shelby was dangerous. Risky in the sense that you are afraid your illness will worsen. 🥊 Arthur was a good partner to you. He is both a provider and a lover. However, he was a heavy smoker. You can see him smoking his thick tobacco every day; it's as if he can't function without it.
🥊 It was an ordinary morning; you were just staying at home, and he was smoking brown tobacco. The hazardous air entered his lungs, and he exhaled the surplus air very near you. This has been going on for several days. His smoking became worse as a result of his distress about what had happened to his father. His father abandoned them for years, and when he returned, he left them again. You choked as he exhaled the noxious air, but it was even worse. Your coughing episode lasted over five minutes, burning your throat and making your heart race. When your partner spotted the never-ending fit, he promptly discarded the unfinished cancer stick. "Hey, love, breathe," he patted your back hardly. Thankfully, your coughing fit ended, but you were beginning to notice little spots all over you. You blinked rapidly, attempting to get rid of the spots. "Hey - are you okay?" Arthur asked. "Arthur, I can't - can't see clearly." You worried and looked everywhere. Your heart pounded quickly, and your breathing became heavy. Your dizziness gradually overtook you as you fainted.
🥊 When you awoke, you expected to be in your room, but instead you saw grey walls and a strange mattress. You looked around the room before calling your husband's name. The wooden door opened, and the oldest Shelby brother entered the room. As he approached you, he removed his peaky hat. His face expresses worry and sorrow. He sadly smiled and reached out for a hug, which you accepted. You were panicking deep inside. You've been hiding your disease since you met your husband; you didn't want him to find out because it might make him upset or, worse, leave you.
🥊 There was an unpleasant silence in the room before Arthur chose to break it. "How are you managing now, (y/n)?" he asked with a heavily sigh. "I'm feeling better now, fortunately." There was more silence. "The doctor says you have arrhythmia .. it looks like you have it for quite some time now. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
🥊You always assumed that this day would come, but you didn't expect it to be today. Your mind is filled up with thousands of unpleasant thoughts. 'What if he leaves me?' 'My life would end without me' 'What do I-' "(Y/n?)" Shaking your head, you determined to give him the truth, even if the outcome wasn't pleasant for you. You took a long breath and eventually explained to him. "When I was a child, I had a very narrow arteries. It got worse when I grew up and the doctor diagnosed me about it. I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner, Arthur."
🥊 His hands found the side of your face and gently stroked your cheekbones. "It's okay, love. I understand. And I'm sorry for smoking all around you. I won't do it again." He kissed your forehead before massaging your back. "It's fine, Arthur; you didn't know." You smiled as you held his hands on your cheeks.
🥊 "We'll be fine, right?"
🥊 "We will." THE END
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Heya so this is Damian's pov in the chapter 16 of my fic Hostage situations and other romantic activities based on @iguessthisisanewobsession's prompt! I had it written out and though it doesn't fit in with the main storyline, I figured I'd post it here and link it in case anyone was curious. Feel free to ignore this if you haven't read the fic <3
Hope you guys enjoy:) (Spoilers ahead)
Damian’s head hurt. Zsasz had managed to get in a good hit before Damian had managed to knock him out, or at least what he thought had been a knock-out. He’d been sloppy and now the teen’s head was throbbing. At least, he had seen no injuries on Danny though the other boy had been very pale and looked unwell. 
That was another thing. Danny.
Gotham wasn’t a safe place for civilians, and metas had it even worse. That was true everywhere but in Gotham even more so; discrimination, increased risk of violence, even human experimentation. 
It wasn’t surprising that Danny would want to keep his abilities a secret. But something about the blast, how despite clearly having been instinct, the shot had been so very precise that Damian who had been pinned under Zsasz hadn’t felt more than a cold blast of wind made it seem as if there was more to it than that.
And right now, as he was perched up in the tree waiting for law enforcement, there was nothing to do but to speculate.
No, that was untrue, he thought as he took his phone out of his pocket. He could do more than that. 
He could research. And so he did. 
And found nothing.
Oh sure, there was a blurry picture here, an oblique mention there but no proof of existence beyond a social security number, a high school diploma, and one measly article.
No birth certificate, no social media, no medical file, not even a driver’s license.
It wasn’t that Danny Fenton was a ghost. It was more like he was a half-finished person.
Damian breathed out slowly. 
It wasn’t Danny’s powers that made him suspicious. It was everything else.
An hour later, Damian slid down into the now dark forest and started walking.
Damian looked up to see Danny coming down carefully. Damian steeled his expression into a neutral one, unwilling to let his thoughts play on his face.
“Daniel,” Damian started formally. “You went back to the school.”
That was a point in the boy’s favour; at least, he had not ran.
“Yeah,” Danny answered, too casually. “thanks again for saving my butt back there.”
Damian nodded, but abstained from saying anything further in favour of studying Danny’s expression. He didn’t seem any different but Damian knew appearances could be deceiving.
“So-“ Danny started but Damian wasn’t interested in small talk.
“I could not find a picture of you before your fourteenth birthday,” Damian stated clearly.
“Uh,” Danny stumbled. “Ok?”
“Nor could I find a birth certificate in your name.” Damian continued expecting a twitch, a frown, something.
“Yeah,” Danny answered calmly, waving. “Mom and Dad are terrible at paperwork.”
Alright. If that was how Danny would play it. Flimsy excuses could only go so far. 
“No social media, no bank account. Not even a tax return in twenty years.”
“IRS have given up long before I was born,” Danny answered airily. “And Amity’s not the safest place for technology.”
Damian studied the boy in front of him. He looked relaxed and mostly at ease. A bit confused, a bit tired if anything. And Damian wanted to believe it. 
Yet, both his instinct and his experience were telling him not to, and so Damian forged on.
“Why did you come to Gotham?” Damian asked.
“What?” Danny answered, once again frowning in confusion. “Uh, I’m here for school? I think I told you that.”
This was getting insulting.
“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, feeling something brewing.
“I’m not,” Daniel persisted in a stupid simplistic excuse. “I’m really here for school.”
Damian clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes peeled on the deceptive face in front of him. Damian had come for the truth and he was going to get it. 
“You truly had me fooled,” Damian stated as he slowly started to circle the other teen. “I did not suspect you for a moment.”
“What are you even talking about?” Danny said, but Damian wasn’t listening to more lies.
“Why did you approach me?” Damian asked asking from Danny’s side. Because that was the most logical explanation, no matter what Damian wanted to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time mother or another one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him. He had to consider the possibility. Danny turned to keep himself facing Damian.
“I didn’t,” Danny stressed, his voice almost snarling. Good. More likely to let something slip.
“Maybe so, but you did not turn down the opportunity to do so either.” Damian allowed, because it truly would’ve been a convoluted plan to manipulate Damian into choosing Danny.
“What,” Danny’s voice biting. “Like you left me any choice?”
Damian stopped short at that. He knew he could be forceful and overbearing but he would never force anyone to do anything like that. He was nothing like her.
“Damian,” Danny’s voice rose again, kinder, softer. “Im not sure what this is, and we can talk about it, I-”.
No. This wouldn’t work. Damian wouldn’t let himself be pacified like a child. “You have deceived me,” Damian reminded himself and Danny
“I haven’t,” Danny protested but Damian wasn't listening. 
“You are not who you say you are.” That was the truth. And no matter what he said, Daniel knew it too.
“Yes, I am,” Danny refuted strongly and Damian had had enough. There was one thing Daniel could no longer lie about.
 “Are you?” Damian asked clearly. “Tell me Danny, are you human?”
Danny flinched and Damian’s heart sank even as it confirmed what Damian already knew.
“That’s what I thought,” said Damian, more calmly than he felt.
“What does that mean?” Danny asked, still trying to pretend but Damian wouldn’t let him.
“It means, I am ashamed I let you get so close.”
It means I know, Damian thought. It mean there’s no use pretending. It means, please do not try. 
There was a moment of silence where Damian held his breath. For Danny to finally give it up and admit it.
Daniel took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. And Damian held himself straighter. Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again.
And then finally-
“Please leave,” Danny’s voice came and what was left of Damian’s hope froze over.
So this was it then. 
“Fine,” Damain said dispassionately. “I’ll send you the severance pay before the end of the week.”
“I don’t want it,” Daniel bit out and Damian could feel something ugly within him rear its head, and Damian let it take the place of the coldness.
“Waynes believe in tying up loose ends,” Damian said silkily. “It does not do to for past indiscretions crop up at importunate times.”
“Ok no. I’m done with this.” Danny stalked off, and it welled up again, poisonous and mean.
“I would be happy to give a recommendation to any new employer of yours,” Damian shouted. 
He knew he was supposed to be better than this, but he couldn’t help it.
“Screw you!” Danny yelled back and Damian snarled, stopping himself from punching at a tree or something equally stupid and emotional.
Whatever. He turned away and started walking.
It wasn’t like it had been a real relationship. It wasn’t like it had meant anything. Damian started running.
It had done what it was supposed to do, and really, Damian had gotten out of it exactly what he wanted. 
The thought did nothing to appease the empty feeling in his chest as he made his way back home.
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st-el-la-luna · 3 months
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It's Not Enough: Captain John Price x Reader
(sorry for vanishing I am mentally unwell)
An injury leaves the Task Force's Captain unable to do all that he usually does. You're more than happy to help.
NSFW 18+
➔ gn!reader ("you"/"your" pronouns, described as "pretty" once), Price is readers boss, pillow fucking, desperate almost subby Price
unedited, written on mobile in Spanish class
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It wasn't fair to say that the mission went south. It's not like the Task Force failed it or anything. You guys secured the intel you needed and cleared the base no problem.
Except there was a problem. Your intel on the enemy operation had been spotty and it turns out the enemy was more prepared than you all had been lead to thought.
Sitting silently in the back of the truck you all quietly lick your wounds. Soap had been stabbed, "'tis just a scratch," he had announced before taking out three men with an improved explosive. (Ghost hit him for that one) (the Shakespeare reference. Not the bomb). Gaz and Ghost both were shot, the former in the knee and the latter, grazed on the neck by a bullet that very well could have killed him. You got a little too close to a grenade and now your ears are ringing and you're covered cuts and scrapes from the shrapnel, bits of metal still embedded in your skin.
Price got it the worst though. One of the enemy soldiers managed to sneak up on him. This hulking, unit of a man who made Ghost, Ghost, look like a gangly teen.
You always wondered how Ghost, being as big as he is, could move so quietly so quickly. This enemy soldier made you think that maybe you were just loud and slow.
Not a single person realized that the soldier was there until it was too late. He tackled Price, knocking the gun from his hands then threw him, literally threw him, like a doll, over the catwalk ledge.
Price was lucky though, in a sense, because he crashed to the ground close enough to you and Gaz that you could provide him cover.
He was unlucky, or maybe just stupid, because he tried to catch his fall. His fall from three stories up.
With his hands.
Never have you heard bones snap so loud.
You glance across the truck at him. He's breathing slowly and deliberately, self-soothing. His hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching occasionally, but otherwise motionless.
"Hey, look on the bright side, Captain," you say with a crooked grin, blinking away the blood dripping from a gash above your eye. "At least you won't have to do any paperwork for a while."
"Won't be able to jack off either," Soap adds with a crow of laughter. "Poor lil John's gonnae be black and blue... Won't even be able to feel the pain in yer hands over the straining of your–"
"That'll do!" Ghost snaps, ever the one to keep Soap in line.
It's quiet for the rest of the way back to base. It's quiet as you all head to medical for treatment. You're all drained, happy with a job well done, but exhausted from, well, everything.
Tired and sore, you decide to forgo dinner in order to catch some extra sleep. You're walking through the halls when you pass by Price's office.
The door is cracked open, which is unusual, and a rhythmic sound tumbles out into the hallway. A blend between panting and grunting.
He groans out a frustrated, "Fucking... Ah... Fucking hell!"
"Captain?" You ask hesitantly, knocking on the door. You hear shuffling inside, the rustling of cloth, soft jingle of metal. "I, uh... Everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," he grits out, breathless and frustrated. "I'm just..." More rustling. "Fuck!"
"Can I come in?" You ask, already opening the door.
He doesn't say no. In fact, he doesn't say anything. Until you've got the door open and are left staring at the scene before you.
"I didn't want anyone seeing me like this..." He grumbles.
He's standing behind his desk, both hands and forearms in casts. He's struggling with a zip up hoodie, tangled in the fabric as he tries to put it on.
You fight back the urge to laugh and succeed. You fight back the urge to smile and fail. "Want some help with that, Captain?"
"Please."
This continues for the duration of his injury, him coming to you for help with tasks he can't do himself. For as long as he's in those casts, you're at his beck and call.
It's not uncommon for you to be called away from some mundane task to help the Captain with something equally mundane. But hey, at least you get to spend time with your Captain.
Your handsome, rugged, often flushed as of late, Captain.
You're captain whose casts you've wrapped before he can shower. Whose shirts you've helped put on. Whose hair you've brushed. Beard you've combed. Whose-
You keep having to tell yourself that this doesn't mean anything. The only reason he comes to you and no one else is because, well, he doesn't want anyone else seeing him like this.
So what if he blushes when you help secure his belt around his hips? Or when your fingers graze his neck as you button his collar. So what if once or twice while youve helped him dress your hand has brushed his cock (and oh, it's big), and it's jumped to attention. It's a natural reaction, really. Price never even mentions it. He's probably embarrassed. Ashamed. Nothing more to it.
But what if...?
No. You tell yourself sternly. Bad. That's your boss.
But...
He has been calling on you more. Has been standing closer. Leaning in when you speak. Burying his nose into your hair before you leave his room and inhaling through his nose, then shutting the door on you, leaving you a little dazed and more than a little confused in the hall.
Still. It doesn't mean anything. You've just never spent this much time with him. Maybe this is normal.
You're in the armory with Soap and Gaz when your phone goes off in your pocket. Price is calling.
"Captain?" You ask, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear as you continue to clean your rifle. "Everything okay?"
"I know I told you I wouldn't need anything until later, but I... I need your help," he says, his voice gruff and rumbling. "Now."
Soap mimes a blow job and Gaz snickers, shouldering him playfully.
"Could have called anyone, Captain," Soap calls out loud enough for Price to hear through the phone. "What is it you need help with that only our pretty little Corporal can do? Hmm?"
"Shut up, Soap," Price grumbles.
"Captain says to shut up, Johnny," you relay to Soap. He laughs.
"I need your help," Price repeats, his breath stuttering slightly.
"Alright," you say, setting the rifle down. "What with?"
"I'm..." his words are cut off by a groan and the sound of shuffling, followed by something clattering to the floor. "Fuck... I'm trying to..." He pauses, breathing heavy. "Tryna trim my beard and I.. Just get over here quick."
"Aye, sir. I'll be in your office soon."
"Not my office. My quarters."
You pause, holding the phone properly now. "I... Your quarters, Captain?"
Soap snickers, and thrusts his hips into the air a couple times. You flip him off.
"Yes," he says. "It's where I keep my products."
"Right, of course," you shake your head. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Good," he says, letting out a breathy sound through his nose. "I can't deal with this any longer..."
"Your beard has gotten scruffy," you muse.
"I... Just... Hurry." He hangs up.
"Getting out of work early again, huh?" Gaz asks with a grin. "Or should I say getting off work early?"
"Not you too," you whine, flipping the pair of them off as you leave the room.
You don't catch what Soap says, his words muffled by his accent and the closing door. Judging by the raucous laughter that breaks out when he's done, you figure that might be for the best.
You get to Price's room and knock, waiting a beat before turning the knob. "Hey, Captain, just a heads up, I've never actually trimmed a beard before but I–"
You stare at the scene before you with wide eyes, blood rushes to your cheeks as your jaw drops.
"Close the door," Price grunts, staring up at you from his place on the bed. On his knees, forearms braced against the mattress, his face red, jaw slack as he lets out rhythmic pants and groans.
You don't dwell on it. Instead, your attention is drawn to the clumsy, desperate movement of his hips as he ruts desperately against his pillow. His pillow which is covered in... Is that one of your workout shirts?
"I... Captain?!" You squeak in surprise, taking a slight step back.
"Soap was right," he grumbles, humping and grinding and moaning into the pillow. Into your shirt. Your shirt. This is happening. This is real. Price inhales deeply through his nose, his tongue lolling out. "Haven't... Haven't been able to... It's... I... It hurts, i... I thought this would... it worked before but i... It's not... not enough, I.. Help... Please."
Slowly, hesitantly, you shut and lock the door behind you. "Oh, so you've done this before?" You quirk a brow as you approach his bed. "Fucked into your pillow like a desperate whore thinking it was me?"
He whines, actually whines, and his hips falter for a second before speeding up. With each forward stroke of his hips you can catch a glimpse of his cock. Thick and red and painfully hard, dripping so much precum it looks like he's already cum before you got here. "Don't... Don't tease me, Corporal... Don't forget who's in charge here."
"Seems to me, Captain, that I'm the one in charge here," you hum, slowly kneeling on the bed. He looks up at you through his sweaty fringe, his breaths hot and wet when they fan against your skin. "I mean, you're the one who needs help, after all... You're the one whose job could be on the line... I doubt the higher ups would be thrilled to find you like this, all backed up and desperate for one of your soldiers?"
His eyelids flutter, he bites his lips muffling a growl that crescendos into a moan when you cradle his face. "Stop, I... I just... It hurts..."
"I'm sure it does," you hum sympathetically, running a hand through his hair. "Been too long, hasn't it?"
He keens and leans into your touch, drool dribbles from his lips. "I... Weeks, may, ah, maybe a month... Or longer... I-I need it... Please."
"Well, that just won't do," you tut, shaking your head in mock sympathy. You tighten your grip on his hair and he bows, arching his back like it's his job. "Just look at you, Captain..."
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He whines and you shush him gently, hand sliding from his hair to cup his jaw and chin, forcing him to look up at you. "Don't worry, Captain... I plan to do a lot more than just stare..."
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