#the things that used to keep me alive now just make me feel so fucking empty. because I feel guilty for enjoying them. i know i'm annoying
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#IM SO STRESSED IM SO STRESSED#I feel like I'm not handling ANYTHING well rn#so many people have symptoms that are WAAAAAAY fucking worse and they're like. working full time jobs and being a parent and shit and#I'm like waaah oh no I have body aches and chronic fatigue looks like I'll have to be unemployed and never do anything ever 💀#how am I gonna live?? like. my parents are taking care of me and I'm so fucking glad but#SOMEDAY THEY WONT BE AROUND and that stresses me out so bad#I'm 25 years old and I NEED my mom every day if not physically then emotionally because I'm a little bitch baby that can't do anything for#herself. im having a hard time feeding myself I'm having a hard time keeping my living space clean#I'm not taking care of anything except the dogs sometimes and my lizard and she's not getting as much attention as she used to#I need a job and I need to be able to suck it up and DO THINGS but I feel like I'm not the person u was anymore#I was strong and I could push thru things and make myself do things and now I can't???? I just lay on the fucking couch!! and feel bad abtit#is it the tism. is it the ADHD. what about the chronic depression. how bout the fibromyalgia?#and the thing is that ALL OF THOSE THINGS ARE MILD#I don't have severe pain (yet).#I just can't handle it I don't WANT to handle it#so. shoutout to my mom I guess because if it wasn't for her I simply wouldn't be alive#I feel like I've never been happy!! why can't I just be content and be happy!!!!#I have no fucking reason to be unhappy!!!!!!
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hope u guys don't mind me being a little queer sometimes and talking to myself in the tags, it helps clear my head since people can filter out rant posts easily
#bc i had not used this place in a while until late 2022 ive absolutely forgotten if i used to talk to myself in tags here before or not#i say this bc i now have people who actively see my art here n just throwing random rants here would be very rude so i prefer tags help#feels safer here too LOL#also feels a little scary but im sure that's normal for many that there are ppl who read all tags mein gott#NOT A BAD THING THAT PPL READ TAGS i wouldn't be writing anything if i wanted to kill people for reading tags lol#just stating observations aheem aheem#its like writing on a public bathroom's walls and people passing by to be like “damn bitch ok” /funny#also do not worry at all about how i express myself i do apologize if my words sometimes sound like im on the brink but like#violence is the only way i love to be expressive HELP#watch me be on the government watchlist for the shit ive said gootbyeeeeeeee#but do not feel worried i will be ok eventually every time. sometimes i just gotta explode oh so violently to deflate and feel normal again#WISH I COULD USE EMOJIS ON THIS DAMN PC#anyway the person im trying my damned to avoid is Sure Making It Difficult#at least the people i wanted to know why i was autotune crying baby for a while heard me out n im alive in that regard finally smile emoji#how long can you keep gently hinting you want to distance yourself from somebody until you lose your goddam mind and feel sweet relief when#they actually leave said group themselves after getting my blunt hints help help#oh i sound so fucking rude with just my side but mein gott i don't care bc it was never a serious thing to begin with#just shot my anger thru the roof for good reason and finalliegh im getting mutual distance from that person lol#never get close with ur fave artists worst mistake of my life /hj for real#u start off loving seeing them every time and then boom youre sad how things turned out every time you see them my god#also make sure ur minor friends dont feel like they need to mend things for the adults i feel so fucking sad for someone bc of this rn but#i talked to them n hopefully they understand aouhg.#anyway back to queer posting thats enough soup for today good god#ranting
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crazy that billys dead and the only time both him and max were on screen together and interacting was when max was hallucinating him yet this season really really hit the they're SIBLINGS vibe so hard. the amount of times max was doing something on screen and i was like oh you know billy's her brother like you know
#not even the way she dressed and used music to cope even tho they are extremely. Billy Vibes#but more in the way she was like. handling life post billy post neil drunk mom etc#pushing everyone away#also the hellfires shirt scene w dustin and max being sarcastic#wait. when the cop called her mean#okay i say all this not to be like. make out that max is billy or whatever like max is her own person#w her own personality and strength etc#im saying that there was just a lot of moments this season where i was like they were important parts of each others lives for so long#and max seems more comfortable w letting that through now. probably due to the tragic circumstances#that hes not around to bitch at her for stealing his jacket or shitty attitude#its late im wording this wrong#anyway! cant wait for season five where we can all go oh hes HER brother.#cant wait for him to pull some max level shit.#cant wait for the various different groups and parties to be like. head in hands Theres Two Of Them 😢#maybe also tragically happening becos if max doesnt help his memory survive like if she doesnt keep his name alive#then who will#basically BASICALLY if someone in s4 said to her 'oh you remind me of him'#whether it be positive or negative. probably negative lbr.#she'd feel fucked up about it but mainly proud but like in a twisted way#cos in her own words. ever since he left things have been a disaster. and she hasnt really been handling it all that well#her coping mechanisms are maybe leaving little to be desired#homes turned to shit#and billys gone. and max understands him more than ever#and she can't even tell him. commiserate with him. ask him why.#okay i literally need sleep none of this makes sense im so sorry#m#text
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i don’t think i can ever forgive anyone who didn’t wear a mask or vaccinate or take covid seriously after all of this shit not going to lie. after just now realizing i’ve lost two years to it. Two years of being a person, or going out and doing things I should’ve been doing as a kid free of responsibilities with other kids, and doing what little you even CAN do in a world where you can’t do jack shit without money. I already sat in front of a computer screen for way too long every day. Feel like I should still be in my second semester of high school after all of this. Don’t feel like I should’ve aged at all. I’m not good with memories in the first place (which is why i’m always taking pictures), and covid only made it worse. past two years have been a haze.
I don’t remember almost anything that happened, even when i think really hard about something i KNOW is there but can’t recall. I’m lucky if I remember it when someone else jogs my memory for me, even. I don’t remember good times spent with friends, or going for walks outside, or even a fuckton of school at all. I don’t feel like there are even years there, but there are and I can’t get them back. Time was already hard for me to grasp, but now I don’t know when I’ve done anything, and it fuckin hurts. it hurts. I feel
And now we’re getting Harmful Affliction 2: Monkeypox Edition, and nobody’s fucking taking it seriously! There’s no shortage of kids and teens like me who’ve lost a significant chunk of their lives, by the time they’re around old enough to go to school, to a pandemic, and are just now needing to walk into the world and know what the fuck they’re doing.
how is that okay? how is ANY of it okay?? How did nobody think for one fucking second about how much this would fuck us up? How did we not think this would last for years seeing the atrocious lack of action from ANYONE? How are we supposed to brush all of this off? there are kids in their developmental years who don’t know how to communicate because we haven’t been anywhere near each other for 2 years! except for, y’know, the pieces of shit who just COULDN’T FATHOM that and were the reason anyone with half a mind or any care for others at ALL were kept at home for years! I’m a now-adult with social anxiety that came LONG before covid, and probably has origins in a cult i was raised in for no shortage of time as a kid, but it’s been too long for me to know for sure. But this shit PREDATED covid for me. I can’t imagine there’s a lack of people who’ve lost literal YEARS of their lives to this and who don’t know how to pick up the pieces anymore or how they’re supposed to get better.
I don’t think I can ever describe to someone the kind of lonely and horrible it was to simply sit in the doorway to my room with a plate of food left outside my door or handed to me by family wearing masks just like I did any time I left it, listening to the rest of my family sing happy birthday to my sister at the dinner table downstairs, seeing the light from the dining room and a little bit of my mother from the doorway and nothing more, trying to sing along through a mask so I didn’t get anything in the air. I don’t think I can describe the kind of miserable it was to sit there with a birthday dinner that I couldn’t even taste, that had to be delivered because nobody was allowed to leave the house. I fucking RUINED my sister’s birthday, and it’s not like I went to a party or anything, or went out. It’s not even like it’s my fault. I went to school, I went home. I didn’t have much of a social life anyway. Transit or the school itself gave me covid. Even sanitizing and washing my hands after touching everything I could, and wearing a mask I never pulled down, not in class or ever, and doing the best i could? I still caught it. Even doing the best you can ask a human to do, I caught it. I can’t put into words how agonizing it was to be confined to one room for WEEKS, unable to leave for anything except to use the washroom across the hall. If you don’t think it’s that big of a deal? Try it yourself and see how long you can do it.
Back when they actually cared and still did close contact lists and all that, the person on the phone didn’t believe me when I told them I don’t go out. That I didn’t party or go out to see friends or go ANYWHERE outside of school. According to my mom, the person on the phone was in enough disbelief to ask HER after I said the exact same thing.
We’ve been living in a hell of ignorance’s creation for years now, and might be for years in the future, Or maybe we’re just not living at all. I feel like both apply.
I wish I could have those two years back, but i can’t have that. And it’s not even my fault that my friends and I can’t have them.
#allex rambles#vent#personal#please dont rb this lol#im just#god#was talking to my friend luna last night and remembering that i used to feel alive in spite of how horrible my depression was#and how school was. and how it all made it worse#what was usually on my mind was not knowing what the fuck im living for#and STILL i felt more alive then than i have in the past 2 years#It makes me want to cry and scream and throw shit#how was i supposed to feel like a kid when i was locked up for the past 2 years?#how am i supposed to feel like an adult now when I didn't get the opportunities i should've had or was too scared to kill myself or#my family with a virus that was fully capable of it to take advantage of those opportunities?#i already have shitty memory. that on its own terrifies me#i take photos of everything i do to try and keep a date and an image of the stuff i go out of my way to have fun doing.#because if i don't i'm terrified i'll forget.#knowing im forgetting mundane things and its like i might not have done them at all?#that it might be getting worse?#that's so fucking scary.#im only realizing now just how fucked up everything's been. i think i pushed it all back to cope at the time#and im only letting myself grieve and feel horrible now that i'm out of school and can afford to while im looking for a job#fuckssake.
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looks like the tumblrinas are liking first kill so i’m going to start it tmrw!
#also i’m gonna use the tags to talk about an unrelated thing lol#i still keep in contact with my 6th grade english teacher bc she means the Absolute Fucking Most to me#and so i texted her about getting into the zine lol so that was a few months ago#and i texted her some really really significant news in mid may#and i texted her some really really significant news yesterday.#and she responded about the zine. but she didn’t respond in mid may#and i was like okay maybe she read it but since the little notif was gone she forgot to respond#but now not receiving a response to the second text has me feeling like AHH you know?#bc she’s a functional adult human. she Always Texts Back#and she would be sosososososo excited by both pieces of news that i shared with her!!!!!!#so i’m thinking maybe she has a new phone number now???????????? UFHDHDJFH#but the texts show as delivered so 🤔🤔🤔#and like my brain is like. maybe she learned smth about you and decided to never speak to you again. but rationally i know that’s not true#bc she’d talk to me about it if she heard smth really bad; and also i haven’t done anything really bad in forever bc i haven’t left the#house in so long lol.#SO LIKE.#USHDGHSHHHAAA#it makes me so sad to think that shes no longer a part of my life all bc this fuckinfb phone number may not be working??#also i googled her name and there are no obituaries for her so she is presumably still alive#AH I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOJT THIS#SHE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME AND IT FEELS SO IMPORTANT TO BE ABLE TO SHARE THIS NEWS AND THIS JOY WITH HER#BC SHE INDIRECTLY PLAYED A ROLE IN MAKING IT ALL HAPPEN YOU KNOW#AHFHSHUHHHHHHHH
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#hmmm i can see how xanax can be addictive. especially if its not uncommon to grow tolerant to it at lower doses.#not gonna actually abuse it because it *is* my brother's and i *did* tell my parents i was only going to use it as a substitute for my#clonidine until i can get back on it. i'm not going to use up a medication someone else needs. i would never fuck someone over like that.#no matter what some people may believe. plus i really shouldn't be on any benzos long term anyways.#i'd much rather take the medication that helps me sleep and keeps me from having constant intrusive nightmares and stress dreams about the#people i love being harmed or dying‚ or the people who pretended to care coming back and hurting me more. i'd love to not have to deal with#that every fucking night. i'd love to just sleep and mundane dreams i don't even remember and actually get some rest. xanax doesn't do that#xanax just calms my constant anxiety enough to get my brain to shut off in time to sleep. it doesn't do much else for the sleep issues.#it DID make me feel pretty okay when i first took it but yeah not so much now and that's not its intended use but. yeah. i can see how it#can become addictive now. maybe now i have more leverage to get my fucking trauma medication back.#and try something other than fucking prozac. because prozac hasn't done SHIT for me and i'm sick of it i've gotten MORE irritable.#put me on zoloft or something idgaf just stop insisting i take this useless shit.#or paxil. or something other than an ssri i don't know i don't care#just give me something that'll stop me from wanting to kill myself isn't that the fucking *point* of these things?#ugh. whatever. i'm going to bed. i hate being alive. i hate being awake. i hate feeling. i hate everything.
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Vent
#'dont make me watch you all night'#great so my depression and the fact I wanna die constantly is an inconvenience to you? oh darn sorry#my dad is such an idiot sometimes he used to be the smartest man alive#now I'm scared n dealing with the world on my own#I wanna die so badly it's not fair that I'm not allowed#I'm not even important why do you even wanna keep me around#I can't comprehend someone truly loving me in the end everyone just wants something from me#so many people that I thought I was gonna spend forever with disappeared#I can't take this anymore I don't wanna live another 25 years I'm getting sick at the thought#I'm supposed to call for help right now....but I know no one can help me#they can stop me from killing mysrlf n hold me against my will that's it#no one can make my life better.....#I just wanna die so fucking bad#my dad just sucks at comfort and then he dumps sad shit onto me#the only thing that's gonna make me feel better rn is pain#I just wanna die my life sucks so fucking bad why do they wanna keep me here im fucking useless
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hauuuuuuugh me when i dont feel real on several fucking levels???
#i dont feel like me and its concerning#my parents dont feel like my parents#i had to fucking mentally confirm a bit ago that 'yes that is yoyr friend who is having a birthday and not just some stranger'#i keep. second guessing myself on things i know are true#and my body shouldnt be mine . and my personality is only me because i made it me#if you took all of the fake things and stripped them from me what the fuck would be left#and oopsies i cant talk to anyone about it because the only people i would are my friends and i know most of them have more issues than me#but i cant help them with that because all i have is luck and a shitty jokey personality to scrape through life with#i owe them so much honestly. i only really go outside with them. otherwise i would be a total shut in#and i cant do so much as ask if theyre okay because if they say yes its likely a lie and if they say no then what do i do ?#so im not making them deal with more of my shit. so i'll just keep having those moments where i look up and take a bit to remember its real#im so lucky. just to be alive. and for what#to make shitty jokes and never help anyone and rot in my room all day?#but if i make a change now people will notice somethings off about me. parents would get concerned if j did anything not in my room#one day my lucks going to run out and ill be gone and i won't be memorable because none of me is real#..if youre my friend and you see this. i love you and i wish i could do so much more to help you#and im sorry im a little too pathetic to be able to do that now but one day ill figure out how to help people and be useful#and repay everythjng#and one day i wont be some weird combination of personas and jokes and fakes#just. gotta get there#. still. it feels like the real old me got cut out of their body and i got stuck in here instead. if i could id give it back lol#hell. is this even real or am i just spouting what i thjnk i should be feeling#my emotions go by so fast that they dont feel real either#ha i need to stop rambling here#maybe im having a Dont Trust How You Feel After Nine moment#does this. count as#derealisation#probably
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messy chaotic ‘we’re terrible for each other but can’t keep our hands off each other’ prompts
oh hello i am in fact alive
“do you ever actually think before speaking? like is your brain capable of processing a thought??” “yeah, it’s just immune to idiotic ones”
“take that back” “prove me wrong” (or; a cliché ‘make me’)
being in some sort of intense slightly pointless staring match (after an argument, preferably) and just saying “oh fuck it who cares” and pulling their neck down to kiss them
“do you the sex would be boring if we didn’t argue before it every time?” “i mean, we could always argue during”
^or, alt: doing it once when you’re not arguing instead kinda tipsy but not drunk, and it’s all giggles and laughter and sweet nothings and the next morning being like “oh fuck i actually like them”
“why does everything with you have to be so difficult!?” “it’s fun getting you all riled up”
“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish”
“you’re doing it wrong” “jesus, would you just relax” “no because i’m wasting my tim- oh, oh my god-” the other character smirking, “don’t look so smug” “i think i’ve earned the right, now just trust me, okay? believe it or not, i want to make you feel good”
“so you’ll finally stop being an asshole and just sign the document?” “keep doing this and i’ll sell you my house”
getting jealous and the other character pretending that it’s unreasonable, but secretly character A is the only one they feel a spark with. the only one they feel excited to be around
“we should probably stop this” “yeah” … “we’re not going to though, right?” “oh absolutely not”
“nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore”
“you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?” “yes, i believe that’s what’s on my resume”
“i hate you” “i know” “and that won’t change” “i know” “and you’re still okay with this?” no “yes”
“imagine a universe where we didn’t hate each other, that would be so-“ “boring?” “yeah! like imagine not bickering over tiny things, that’s no fun”
“she says we bicker like an old married couple”
talking with a friend; “you shouldn’t go there” “i know” “and you shouldn’t sleep with them” “i know” “it’s a bad idea” “i know” “well. will you?” “..yeah”
“i know we’re terrible for each other but every time i look at them it’s just like my brain flies out the window and my hormones take over”
“we’re broken up, it’s just two friends going out for drinks, okay?” ending up in one’s bed, but alright
“did you sleep together?” “noooo, i just-“ “tripped on a stone and accidentally dailed his number which magically led to you two meeting at a pub and you just magically teleported to your bedroom without your clothes on? yeah, thought so”
#dialogue prompt#imagine your otp#dialogue snippet#otp dialogue#otp incorrect quotes#otp prompts#otp ship#romance#romance prompts#story prompt#writing#writing prompt#writing prompts#writblr#fluff#fluff prompts#love prompts#flirty banter#kiss prompts#flirty#suggestive#enemies prompts#friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#smut prompts#exes to lovers#exes to lovers prompts#romance prompt#fwb prompt#making up prompts
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Some historical context for Olrox
Okay, let me prephase this with one important message: Castlevania Nocturne made me really happy by making the plot all about colonialism, as colonialism and its fallout and how it influences us to this day is a topic that I am very passionate about. We do not talk enough about it. The US does not talk enough about it because it could make white people feel uncomfortable. And here in Germany we do not talk about it, because we act as if this had nothing to do with us at all.
But the show talks about it and I love it.
And I honestly also gotta say that I love that the BI_PoC character have a concrete cultural heritage. Olrox is Aztec, Annette is Yoruba, and Drolta is Egyptian. Other shows: Please take notes!
But let's talk Olrox, because he is so fucking interesting and amazing!
We know about him that he is Aztec and also that he is 250 years old. Or roughly that old by the time he kills Julia. Which would put either his birth or his turning somewhere around 1530.
Now, the fall of the Aztec Empire has a very exact date: August 13th, 1521. But you should keep in mind that this does not mean that on that day the Aztec's are extinct. To this day there is still 1,5 million people speaking Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs, and preserving some of the Aztec cultural traditions. It was just that on that day the empire construct fell to Cortez and the Spaniad conquistadors and a lot of Aztecs went into exile to flee the genocide that Cortez was bringing upon them.
The question of course is: Was Olrox still human at this time or was he already a vampire? From his dialogue it is clear that he was at least alive and grown enough to remember the fall of the empire and the distruction Cortez and his men brought upon them. But you can bet it was very traumatic.
I also am assuming he was turned by a white man. Because so far my assumption is that vampirism is an old world thing that got brought to the new world through colonialism. (Mostly because in Dracula's court we do not see any new world vampires.)
Now, the other interesting thing is what he says about his dead lover. The one Julia killed. So, first the "town in Massachusetts" he speaks about is clearly Stockbridge. Which was the town in which many Mohicans have settled during the colonial times, as well as other people from the Iroquois Nations. Now, it should be noted that the Mohicans were not part of the Iroquois alliance and in fact went to war with the Iroquois, but by the time colonialism really geared up there was some cooperation between the Mohicans and Iroquois.
Due to this they were in an alliance with the Oneida (who were part of the Iroquois) by the time of the Revolutionary war. Now, the Revolutionary War created a lot of conflict between the Iroquois nations, because they did not agree which side they should fight on. Of course both sides promised that they could keep their land, but the Mohawk, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca did not trust the colonists and hence sided with the British, while the Oneida and Tuscarora (and through them also the Mohicans) sided with the Colonists.
And the dead lover clearly was among those siding with the colonists. Now, a quick refresher for the non-Americans (and the Americans who slept to history class, which is understandable). The Revolutionary War lasted from April 19, 1775 to September 3, 1783 (which, yes, also means that Julia and Richter probably were in the US during the war the entire time and the "evil" Julia was fighting probably was linked to it). And of course we all know how it ended for the Indigenous people: The colonists won, countless Indigenous folks died on both sides, only to get booted of their land soon after. The Oneida und Mohicans were made to move westwards not soon after the war ended. So, yes, Olrox would have seen that happen.
Now, an interesting thing in his dialogue was when Erzebet said: "We will create a new world." To which he replies: "I have heard that one before." And she says: "This time we are going to make it to last."
And the big question is to what this is refering. Is it refering to the colonialization or is it refering to the revolutionary war? Or something entirely different. In both cases it would be possible. And yes, the American Revolution definitely were claiming to create a new world. But was it that what he refered to or something else?
Well, never the less: Interesting character. Really good writing.
#castlevania#castlevania nocturne#castlevania netflix#castlevania nocturne spoilers#castlevania olrox#american history#history#colonialism#colonial history#aztec
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation.
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him.
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists.
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before.
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples.
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her.
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance.
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her.
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration.
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished.
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her.
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her.
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper.
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed.
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him.
“You’re important to me.”
She has no idea how much.
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive.
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted.
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care.
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long.
#spencer reid#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic
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Demons and Humans not understanding each other
Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos
this is mostly mammon freaking out
Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind
“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”
“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”
Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.
“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”
“I’m sweating with this one jacket”
“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”
“no I don’t think you will”
On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive
“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”
“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”
“Everything except the part where I boil alive”
“what!”
Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card
“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”
“Asmo I feel funny”
“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”
“FUCK NOT AGAIN”
In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it
“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”
“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”
“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”
“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”
“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”
I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t
Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them
“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”
“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”
(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)
Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that
“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”
“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”
“I’m sorry, you played what?”
“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”
“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”
“HE WHAT”
“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive
#obey me#obey me!#obey me belphie#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me levi#obey me mammon#obey me luficer#obey me x reader#obey me x you#obey me x mc#obey me mc
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I just want you ᡣ𐭩
includes : Megumi x reader , angst w fluff ending , 0.9k words , kisses
ai’s notes : I luv him sm :((( not proof read
You stomp your feet all the way into the lounging area where Nobara, Yuuji and your boyfriend were.
You could hear Nobara and Yuuji teasing Megumi and if it was any other day you’d be there to back him up, even though he didn’t really care for their words. But today wasn’t any other day, you were mad and you had a very valid reason to be.
All of their eyes are on you and Megumi softly smiles at you. It’s soon wiped off his face when you’re pulling him by the ear, Nobara and Yuuji on the verge of laughing but also amused.
“Ah!—What the hell are you doing—Y/n!”
You let him yell at you as you yank him down the hall and into an empty classroom, sliding the classroom door shut.
“What the hell is your problem!” He grabs at his ear, glaring at you, but his gaze immediately softens when he sees you on the verge of tears.
“Hey, what’s wrong.” His brows furrow. He moves to hold you but you step away, making his stomach drop.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
You’re trying to hold yourself together, biting your lip so it wouldn’t jitter. Megumi’s more than confused but he’s trying to rack his mind of every possibility, just something that he did that would have you upset this much.
“Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry.” He tries to reason and you look so broken, his heart is beating so fast but it wasn’t in the way he liked.
“Gojo-sensei told me about Mahoraga.” You glare at him and he stiffens.
Fuck.
Maybe he did lie to you about that technique, yes it was a ritual but he never told you that he had to sacrifice himself for it to work.
“You’ve tried to summon him at least five times for me!” You yell, your tears already falling, voice breaking.
He doesn’t know what to say and in a way he’s letting you break down, so you could let it all out.
“Why would you lie to me, especially about that.” You pout, sounding so desperate and hurt that it’s killing Megumi in the inside.
His mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water with no oxygen. You crush him with your arms, holding on to him as if he’d disappear at any second, sobbing in his chest.
“You can’t keep sacrificing yourself like this Megumi, Gojo-sensei said you had the potential to be the strongest.” You say and he finally replies.
“I don’t want to be the strongest.”
Even though it’s a smart ass reply he’s holding you close to him, scared that things will go south and you’ll leave him.
“That’s not the point! But you can get stronger. How are you supposed to get stronger if you’re constantly trying to kill yourself.”
That makes him bite his tongue because you were right.
“I don’t care if you want to get stronger or not, I care about you.” You whimper, your cries not ceasing. Megumi combs his hands through your hair.
“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, I don’t want your soul, or your curse—”
“I’d never curse you.”
Your glare shuts him up.
“I want you. Like this, how I have you now, this is all I want.” You say so sincerely, holding his face in your hands.
“Alive, healthy and by my side. For as long as I can have you.”
His heart beat hasn’t slowed down, if anything it’s picked up, but now because your words have reduced him to a flushing mess. His ears and cheeks red, eyes softening.
“You’ll always have me.” He whispers, cradling your face now.
You don’t reply but you kiss him with so much passion, trying to gather up all the love you had for him and he kisses you the same way. The both of you afraid to lose each other.
Megumi couldn’t think of a world without you but he never stopped to think how you’d feel if he wasn’t in yours. Mostly because he’d do anything for you, even if that met giving up on his life for your wellbeing.
When you pull away you both are just as close, sharing each other’s breath.
“You have to promise me you won’t use it anymore, that you’ll get stronger so you don’t have to resort to that, or else I’ll leave you.”
Megumi’s hands squeeze around your waist at the last part, brows furrowing. You knew you’d never be able to but he didn’t need to know that. He rests his forehead on yours, squeezing his eyes.
“I wont use it.” He sighs.
“You promise?” You look up at him, making him melt.
“Promise.”
You lift up your pinky, and he shakes his head in amusement. Linking pinkies with you and touching your thumb, pecking it right after.
“You can’t break it, or I’ll have to cut off your pinky.” You pout and he chuckles.
“Yea I know.” He pecks your lips.
Smiling into his kiss, you lead up with a million pecks, causing his smile to rise as well.
“I love you ‘gumi.” You whisper, brushing your lips with his and he holds the small of your back.
“I love you too, so much.” He says as he nuzzles his face into your neck, placing a peck there as well.
At peace knowing that you were no longer mad at him.
© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
#—jjk#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi fluff#megumi angst#megumi drabble#megumi scenario#megumi imagine#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro fluff#megumi fushiguro angst#megumi fushiguro imagine#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro x you#fushiguro fluff#fushiguro angst#megumi fushiguro#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jjk megumi#jjk megumi x reader#jjk megumi fushiguro#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines
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𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 — 𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭
ᥫ᭡ Suguru never thought he would see the girlfriend he murdered years ago when he decided there was no space in his life for non-sorcerers, yet he never said anything about her lost soul.
cw: ghost! f reader x cult leader!geto, reader can’t speak much, invisible fucking (?), oral, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, body worship, praising, one quick mention of impregnation, slight violence (towards someone else), reader gets jealous of Suda, mentions of buddhist rituals and the antichrist (separate events), poor death jokes. 6.2k words (not sorry). #— cult-tober
ᥫ᭡ inspired by lady k and the sick man — hentai manga (read it at your own risk).
note: thank you everyone who asked about the status of this fic, you encouraged me to finish it <3
Geto knew what he was doing the day he decided to cut everyone out of his life. Some of them, such as Gojo and Shoko, he just cut ties, others, he took their lives.
The people from that despicable village were first, then his own parents, and lastly, his girlfriend.
He would be lying if he said any of these killings made him feel bad, but the one that got closer to hurting him was, of course, yours.
Already numb from the previous deaths, keeping you alive wasn’t really an option.
Though Suguru was gentle, he waited for you to fall asleep while cuddling him after kissing his face and emphasizing how well rested he looked.
“Getting back on your feet, eh?” your words.
He didn’t think he would keep thinking of you, in that moment and the following years he was so focused on his long term goals and new discovered hatred that he managed to push you to the back of his mind.
Now he’s established, he has quite a lot of donors to his cause, a loyal group of sorcerers that share his vision and to top it all, the strongest set of curses that any curse user could only dream of.
Reaching such a satisfying point of his life makes him reflect upon the things he doesn’t have.
When Geto rests his head on the pillow at night he remembers the couples he sees through the day, the teenagers confessing when they can’t even look into each other’s eyes.
Naturally, he thinks of you.
The two of you were different, he took your hand and looked deeply into your eyes, you looked back, for many times after that you tended to look away whenever he said something suggestive or romantic, or even when he stared into your eyes for too long, and Suguru made sure to bring your eyes back to him.
Why couldn’t you have been born a sorcerer? You didn’t even need cursed energy, if you could only see curses that would be enough to him.
Geto sighs, it has been a few months since he started to think of you so frequently.
He’s a man of needs, from time to time he indulges himself into masturbating since sleeping with a human is out of the question and sleeping with a fellow sorcerer would only bring complications into his so-called family.
So, in the mornings, way before any of his duties, he takes the box from under his bed and sprays the perfume you used to use on the pillow beside his. He had an internal fight before buying that perfume, a girl was offering samples outside a store and once the scent reached his nostrils he was invaded by memories he thought he had buried years ago. He bought the bottle nevertheless, shaking his head sadly when the lady asked if she should wrap it as a gift.
The liquid in the bottle hasn’t decreased much, since it lasts quite a long time on his sheets. He sprays once in the pillow, or on his shirt, the one you used to steal from him all the time cause it was your favorite.
His boxers are pushed down, sometimes he fists his cock while looking at the pictures in his box, your pictures, unfortunately he had no spicy pictures, back when you were together nudes weren’t so common, not when you couldn’t password protect a digital camera and flip phones cameras sucked.
He uses the smiling pictures you insisted on taking on your dates, he usually was flipping, or had his tongue out
His favorite is the one you took in a photo booth, the first picture he somehow convinced you to show your tongue with him, the second both of you were laughing, the third you were kissing.
Those three pictures, plus the smell of your perfume is enough for him to remember that kiss vividly.
He teases his tip, thinking about how soft your breasts felt under his hand.
He couldn’t kiss you like that and just leave the photo booth, he had you on his lap, the confined space added to the risk of being caught was so exciting.
Geto spills his load on his stomach, his mind still playing the memory of him kissing your neck, while you caressed his hair urging him to soften down quickly so you could leave the booth and go back to your place. He put his arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple and getting a playful slap on his chest. You didn’t like pda, “people look at us weirdly” you said, but were the first to take his hand or pout when didn’t put his arm around you.
Geto is about to fall back asleep, it started to rain outside, he should be up in an hour but he’s feeling too nostalgic, in a bad way, so the association would have to go through the day without him.
Suguru turns to the side, the rain makes him remember the day you met him at his dorm, for what was supposed to be a date, but the weather changed so you cuddled on his single bed giggling about what would happen if someone knew you, a non-sorcerer, was inside such a exclusive facility like jujutsu tech when you shouldn’t even known it existed. Suguru kissed your face, cheeks, nose and lips, and assured you he would fight anyone that dared to say you were not welcome there.
He promised to keep you safe, in simpler times, when he had a best friend and a future as an ally of the jujutsu world.
Suguru feels a lump on his throat, but he swallows it, allowing his mind to fade away and muscles to relax as he’s back asleep.
Apparently, he needed that few more hours. Suguru is awoken suddenly by a loud, trembling sound. He looks around confused, hating to be woken up instead of waking up naturally, his eyes open slowly expecting the sun, but outside is dark, Geto’s head snaps to his alarm clock wondering how he could have slept till so late, but it says eight in the morning still. What started as a rain turned into a full storm by now.
Suguru jumps from his bed, in order to close the window which had already soaked part of his carpet.
“Shit” he closes the glass window and attempts to turn on the lights, but nothing happens, probably a blackout due to the storm.
His bedroom turns cold, colder than before he closed the window.
A lightning illuminates the sky, and by consequence, his room, he sees a figure on the corner before getting swallowed back in the dark, he rubs his eyes sensing something is off.
The blue cursed energy light takes its shape around his hand, whoever/whatever thought it was a good idea to enter his room is about to regret.
He can see a shape, raising his hand to hit it, concentrating his energy on his fist.
Lightning strikes again.
It illuminates a face. Your face.
Geto’s hand is stopped in the air, his eyebrows leave the frown state and his mouth is hung open.
The electricity returns, his lamp casting a warm light into the bedroom.
He can fully see you now, taking a step back and lowering his hand.
Your face is much paler, hair is longer, like all the years that have passed to him passed to you too. That if you hadn’t seen the sun, or cut your hair, if you were alive all this time or… dead, as it looks, a phantasmagoric version of the girl he used to know.
You have a white dress — or more like a nightgown on —, it’s long and the straps are thin, looks comfortable. He hopes you felt comfortable all this time.
Geto says your name, in a whisper, rubbing his eyes again and wondering if he’s still dreaming.
You brace yourself slowly, as if you’re the one scared in this situation, he watches your mouth parting but closing again.
“Is it really you?” he takes a step closer but you take a step back hitting the wall, “Are you… afraid of me?”
Your eyes widen, they look opaque, shineless. Then you furrow your eyebrows, turn your hands into fists and hit his chest.
“You’re mad, I get it, I deserve it” he lets you punch him groaning angrily, never saying a word, he wonders if you can even speak.
“C’mere” he wraps his arms around you when you start to whimper.
Suguru considers actually being crazy or dreaming, cause you still smell like your old perfume.
“I’m not sure what is happening, I don’t really care, just please don’t go away” he tightens his hold on you believing you could disappear anytime, “You heard me? I was calling your name earlier” he lets go to caress your face, it’s still weird to look at your face when you have this bluish hue instead of the warm cheeks he knew.
You look away, exactly like you did when he said something naughty. So you did hear him when he was touching himself looking at your pictures together. Then he remembers something new, a conversation you had about whether he would find another girlfriend if you died, the type of thing a girl asks in a relationship when she’s bored. That or if their boyfriends would still love them if they were a worm.
Suguru doesn't seem to remember his answer, though he knew you had a tendency to get jealous easily.
“Not sure how much you saw all this time, but just so you know I’ve never been with anyone else” he assures.
Your gaze returns to him surprised, you didn’t know as it seems, he feels like asking questions, how long have you been around? What do you remember?
“You’re cold” he rubs your arms and your strap slides down allowing him to notice your breasts and your nipples marking the fabric, “I’m picking you up, alright?” and he does, wondering if you’re lighter or if he’s got stronger.
Suguru places you on his bed, now a much larger and more comfortable one than the one he had in his jujutsu tech dorm. He lays with you and covers you both with a duvet as you wiggle on his hold trying to find that position you liked to cuddle at.
“You’re so soft” his hand runs on your thigh, “I missed you so much” he squeezes you smelling your hair and kissing your temple all the way down your cheeks — which are way warmer now — until he meets your lips which he starts to peck lightly, though the pent up energy and the way his heart aches for you doesn’t allow him to take this slowly, instead he’s quick to deepen the kiss rolling his tongue with yours and pushing your straps down to fondle with yours breasts.
You whimper and try to move your legs from under him, with no success as he’s drunk on the feeling of having your body under his again.
Such sensitive nipples hardening under his fingers, the taste of you, yours hands pushing his—
He’s pushed off the bed with more strength than he ever thought you would have. You get rid of the duvet and kneels down to where he lays on the floor, he thinks that’s all a play until a very real hand slaps his face, harshly, then you run and disappear through the wall.
Suguru sighs, noticing his boner and resting on the floor.
“…then we’ll be all set, Geto-sama. Geto-sama?” Suda asks, noticing how deep he’s in whatever he’s reading.
“Thank you, Manami” he dismisses her, not taking his eyes off the book.
Geto decided to do some research, to understand how it was possible for you to have appeared to him.
Turns out, in all the books and archives he has of the jujutsu world, there’s only one explanation for why a human would have come back after death.
He cursed you, somehow.
Reversing the curse.
He closes the book when seeing the title of the next chapter, that’s not what he’s interested in.
Geto closes his eyes massaging the bridge of his nose, that day’s duties are already giving him a headache.
A hand manifests out of thin air, touching his cheek. Definitely something worthy of a jump scare, but after an initial surprise, Geto softens his features and puts his hand on top of yours.
The rest of your body manifests slowly, you’re on top of the table he was reading at, your legs dangle on the side, your hair covers part of your face and it’s long enough to reach the table's surface.
“Hello, beautiful” he brushes the hair away from your face, your thumb rubs his cheekbone, the place you hit the day before, it’s not sore or even bruised, the only scar that it left was an emotional one and he senses you’re apologizing for hitting him, though he’s the one that should be begging your forgiveness.
“I’m sorry about last time, I got too excited to see you again and forget the most important thing” he took both your cold hands and kissed your knuckles, “To apologize, for taking your life” he’s not capable of looking up, not yet, “I’m sorry.”
He thought if he should do that for a long time, since he doesn’t regret the things he’s done to get where he is today, and Geto believed that if you had the chance to go back in time to do things differently and still didn’t do it, you couldn’t say you’re sorry for what you did. And he would do it all over again.
He is sorry for you though, he’s sorry for crossing your life and revealing all the things you shouldn’t know in the first place, he’s sorry for depriving you from a normal life, unaware of the existence of curses and sorcerers.
“I’m glad you’re here now” he rests his head on your lap hugging your waist and bringing you closer.
You caress his hair, minding the bun, his hair is also much longer than the last time you saw him, you always said he should grow it out since his hair was so naturally lustrous. He teased you, asking if you were jealous of his gorgeous hair. Now, he snorts, remembering the conversation and untying the half bun so you can run your fingers freely.
Geto, with his head still on your lap notices your feet dangling happily, one on each side of his. He reaches for your right one, brushing his fingers on your sole causing you to squeal, he laughs softly, seemingly you’re not able to speak, only to express yourself through little sounds. His hand wraps around your ankle then rubs the extension of your calves until he reaches your knee, pushing the hem of your dress just enough to expose your thigh for him to start kissing.
“We don’t have to do anything okay? I just want to touch you” he rubs his cheek on the skin of your thigh, like a cat asking for affection.
Your hands leave his hair and his heart beats faster assuming you’re about to leave him, instead you take the hem of your dress and lift it up all the way to your hips, revealing your uncovered pussy to him. The afterlife must be more comfortable without underwear.
Geto grins, accepting what you’re offering him, pushing his chair enough to give him space to dip his head lower and further into your legs.
You being the good dead girl you are, lean back and spread your legs watching with wide eyes the black head of the cult leader getting lost under your dress.
He starts by kissing your folds and rubbing the space between your hips and thighs, taking a mental note of how warm you get when touched by him.
Suguru nuzzles into you, rubbing the tip of his nose on your clit while you squirm. He takes your ankle and helps place your foot on the table to give him more room to eat you out.
What a sin it would be if someone so good at sweet talking others was bad with his tongue.
Thankfully that’s not Suguru.
He quickly drives his attention to your hole, teasing it until he feels your hand gripping his hair, he spreads your flexed leg further and pushes his tongue in, not being able to hold back a moan when he feels you contracting around his muscle.
His nail is digging on your thigh, which he can tell you desperately want to close, still so sensible even after all these years.
Soft breaths echo through the library, Geto feels bad for not being able to hear your beautiful moans, maybe there’s a book about giving back ghosts their voices? Well, the whole thing is a work in progress, but right now he’s too busy to progress that far.
You tug his hair twice, “What’s that, love? Trying to say something?” he keeps his tongue still, pressing it in your bud and shaking his head slightly, he can hear you’re trying to say something over breathy gasps, “You beggin’?” he chuckles on your core, the vibrations make you want more so you raise your other leg, “Who am I to say no to my girl…”
Suguru slides both hands to your lower back, holding you still and kicking his chair back to kneel and be face to face with your cunt.
He loved to finger you, seeing your face contorts and kissing your tears when you orgasmed on his hand, but he loves more making you cum with his mouth only. Felt so much more intimate, it was the same difference of killing someone with a weapon and with his bare hands. Not an analogy anyone can understand, but makes perfect sense to him.
Suguru laps at you like a mad man, sucking and using teeth, every tool he has to give you the orgasm of your lif—… the best orgasm you ever had.
And he knows it’s working due to your shaking thighs and arching spine.
He’s almost without air but when he notices your curving toes he tells himself to endure a bit more.
“Oh it’s coming” and soon he’s rewarded with your throbbing clit on his lips and a clear liquid being sprayed on his chin and chest. Being the tease he is, he laps at your swollen bud a bit more till you have to push him away.
“Sweet” he murmurs, kissing your shaking thigh and admiring your swollen glistening folds. You lay back to recover from the mind blowing orgasm and he sneaks a hand to grab his phone, opening the camera but frowning his eyebrows when nothing but the table getting reflected in his screen. Apparently iphone cameras don’t work on ghosts “Too bad, guess I’ll have to remember this sight” he rests his head on your thigh and reaches a finger to run across every inch of your skin like he’s drawing on your skin.
“Geto-sama, we got another check” Suda pushes the door and you sits up quickly, but her eyes are solo on Geto, a questionable look on her face, probably noticing his disheveled hair and his kneeled position on the floor, “Is everything okay?”
Suguru blinks, shifting his eyes to you and her, doubting if his fellow sorcerer really couldn’t see the half naked woman laying down and dripping on the table.
Maybe even sorcerers couldn’t see it all.
“Yes, you can give me that” he got up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, taking the envelope and closing the door.
When he turns back you are gone. Geto sighs and bumps his head on the door.
Still managing to deal with everything that has been happening, Geto goes to the scheduled meeting in a bad mood, not having seen you since the library incident the previous day.
He’s the last one to arrive, sitting cross legged on the mat at the head of the table. Suda is on his right, taking notes on the meeting, which is boring Geto to no end.
Suda leans in, whispering a question to Geto and showing the notes while the rest of the people discuss financial matters.
“Did someone open the window? It’s so cold all of the sudden” Suda rubs her arms and Geto raises his head from the hand supporting it.
The room did get chiller.
He looks behind his shoulder and sees you, under a different light, a darker one. Your hair is floating and your face is dark, he can only see your widened eyes, they’re fixed on Suda.
Geto raises an eyebrow and discreetly pats his lap smiling at you.
The dark aura around you fades off a little bit and he can see your beautiful features again while you move your bare feet in his direction and take a seat between his legs facing him. In a natural motion he runs his hand on your hair and kisses your forehead, hoping it actually looked natural and not like he was patting an invisible person.
“Geto-sama, is this correct?” Suda leans in again, pushing her cleavage into Geto’s view and invading his — also yours — personal space.
Your head turns almost 360°, the scary things you do only turn Suguru on more. The dark aura is back again.
“Don’t be jealous” he whispers very quietly.
“What was that?” Suda asks leaning in more.
You turn the rest of your body in a ghost-like manner, reaching claw-like hand to Suda’s face.
“Yes, Manami, please pay attention” he takes your hand, guiding it slowly to his pants so you could see how happy he was to see you meanwhile his other hand raises your dress and massages your folds.
You lean back on his chest, he puts his chin on top of your head looking down at your beautiful legs extended under the table.
“Isn’t that right, Geto-sama?” Larue asks and everybody turns their attention to their mentally checked out leader. Geto notices you tensing up, like their attention is on you too. Which would be if they could see you.
Afterall, who wouldn’t want to see a gorgeous little thing melting by having her clit played with under her dress?
You two never took things out of the bedroom, so the past few weeks have been filled with new experiences.
Swiftly, Geto hooks his finger on the top of your dress bringing it down and exposing your breasts to, in reality, no one but himself, still you squeak and try to cover yourself but Geto is faster, holding both your hands behind you.
“Sounds great” he smiles at the people waiting for an answer about a topic he couldn’t care less about, instead he’s more concerned about moving the two fingers inside your gummy walls.
They get back to discussing it among themselves, Geto pretends to pay attention looking at a fixed spot and missing the way Suda is looking at him.
You don’t miss it though.
That’s how you’re supposed to look at him, you only.
It’s borderline outrageous to see her so heart eyed at your man while he’s finger-deep inside your cunt with his erection poking your lower back.
Jealousy starts to take over you again, Suguru is still holding your arms, so you use your leg to swing a move on the water jar on top of the table, shattering it and spilling the water all over Suda.
Everyone gasps, raising from the table and removing their paper to avoid getting wet too.
“What was that?!” she yells.
“Seems like we have a naughty ghost around” Geto jokes, pinching your clit, “Or it’s a sign from heavens to end this meeting, Suda please try to save these notes” he motions to her soaked notepad, “Close the door on your way out, I’ll clean this.”
“But Geto-sama—“ he knew someone would protest it.
“We’ll continue tomorrow” he said firmly, everyone bowed respectfully before leaving the room.
“Tsk tsk, that was unnecessary” he lets go of your arms, you turn around, kissing him your man and pushing his chest until he’s laying on the floor with you on top.
Geto puts his arm around you, keeping you close while playing with your tongues, he’s strong enough to hold you tight, not letting you get away from him.
Your hands go to his complicated clothing, trying to undo the knots of it and free him for you to touch.
“Here, I got this” he undoes everything that needs to be undone with one hand while still holding you, you finish pushing his clothing out of his body until every fabric that once wrapped him is thrown all over the floors of the small room.
Finally, you could see him.
Geto kisses your ear and sucks your lobe while you run your hand over his torso, a faded memory coming to your head when you touch the x shaped scar on his chest. It’s much lighter now, you remember it being a shade of purple and red, holding back your tears at the time for seeing your lover hurt like that. He ensured it was nothing, he barely felt it due to the adrenaline.
At the time you wished you were there to take care of him, to patch and clean him, now you realize you wouldn’t be able to survive if you saw him bleeding and unconscious.
Maybe it all happened for the best.
You touch his abdomen, following the happy trail down to his shaft.
Geto is so strong now, he’s big enough for you to feel small even being on top of him, his thighs support you and his strong arm ensures you stay close.
You take his dick in your hand, kissing his neck and pumping him slowly. Suguru throws his head back, moving his hand to hold your ass as you work him up. Not that he needed much, from the moment he saw you crazy jealous over Suda he was hard already. No, actually, scratch that, from the moment he saw you, he was hard already. His heart beat faster, pumping the blood that went straight to his dick.
“Alright, baby, I can’t wait anymore” he pushes your dress up, getting you completely bare like him and moving your hips until your cunt hovers above his throbbing cock. You sink on him biting your lips, a habit from when you actually had a voice to moan and thought you should keep quiet.
Geto though, moans for the two of you, not caring if anyone hears him ‘cause he’s the boss, what would they do?
The feeling of your pussy around his cock is all he can think now, if you asked him to release all his curses right now he would.
God, he missed this. No toy would ever come close to the real thing.
Geto can’t help but admire your long hair, it is like a waterfall, running through your body and pooling on his torso. He takes a strand and plays with it around his finger.
“You’re still so tight, move your pretty ass for me, yes?” you nod, adjusting your posture and setting a rhythm, “That’s it, good girl” he holds your breast, rubbing a thumb on your perky nipple and raising enough to take the other one on his mouth.
Whatever important things he had that day, it’s all canceled now. His new plan is to stay buried in your pussy and sucking your tits all day long.
“You’re doing so well, baby, but I’ll take charge now, ‘kay?” he reaches behind you to brush away the glass remains and places you on top of the table carefully, “You’re so cute” he bends to kiss you, your hands caress his back muscles, thighs holding him inside you.
You don’t let him go away, not even for an inch, not even when you need air, do you really need it though? What would happen if you didn’t breath? Die? Hah.
“So needy” he laughs softly and pecks your lips actually needing air, now he’s the one with long hair falling on your face, you brush it back and nibble on his chin, clenching around him as he hits that delicious spot.
Suguru is so pretty. Back then he had a boyish look and young charm, now he’s a man, his jawline is stronger and he lost some fat he had on his cheeks, too bad because you loved to kiss his soft cheeks. His arms are way bigger now too, when he readjusts himself to fuck you on a better angle you get a view that no sculpture in the world would ever compare. Light shines behind Suguru, his chest glistens with sweat, some strands of his hair sticking to his perfect skin, the sight of his v line alone makes your clit throb.
Geto stretches you so well and perfectly, “So good, baby.”
He's an angel, you’re convinced. Makes sense now, this is your heaven, being beside him forever, getting him to touch you in front of other people without feeling shame, haunting women that look at him with lust in their eyes.
“Nnnhg Sugu—“ you slap your mouth shocked by the actual words that came out.
“Fuck” he grabs your face kissing you hard, “Say that again” he asks thought a breathy almost desperate tone.
“Su—guru, Suguru” you moan, barely using a real voice.
“Fuck, I’m close. Can I come inside, baby? Huh?” he presses your belly down, “Maybe we should test whether you can get pregnant, that would be a miracle right? Or maybe we would have the antichrist” he smirks in a teasing way and you lightly slap his chest, not liking the idea of bearing the evil, although if he keeps thrusting like that you might change your mind.
Your legs tighten around his small waist, pulling him closer, “Squeezing me so well, I— haa“ he shuts his eyes, “‘Wanna cum with you, love” he lowers his hand to where you meet rubbing your clit with his thumb, you raise your hands to his shoulder pulling him to you until your sweaty foreheads touch.
Geto can see through your rolling eyes you’re close so he speeds up his thumb while thrusting sloppier.
“Still feels like our first time, you know?” he confesses, in love with the way you feel, not just your insides but also, your smell, your warmth, your sounds. All his sense are focused on you.
Your knot finally unties, nails sinking on his shoulder and heels pressing on his back, your mouth is hanging open while Suguru nuzzles on your cheek, “I’m losing my mind” your hips roll trying to meet his thrusts, he cums hard too, moaning majestically and filling you so much you know you won’t be able to hold it all.
“Oh baby” he runs a hand on your face, kissing you lovely. You kiss him back, putting in the gesture every word you cannot say.
Suguru was still trying to manage his duties as a leader and as a boyfriend, at least that’s what he thinks he is since you don’t exactly have the privilege to see other people and he doesn’t even want other people.
The thing is, unlike a normal (alive) girlfriend, you can’t go with him anywhere. To be more specific, apparently you can’t even leave the premises of the temple, the furthest you can go is sitting at the engawa and dangle your feet off the edge. Suguru promised to find whatever was keeping you there and figure a way to have you around him wherever he is.
Now, he’s in Hokkaido, after holding you cold dead hands and promising he would be back soon. In the meantime you explored every inch of the floor where Suguru slept, trying to find some item that was tying you there, with no success. So you begin to wander into other areas of the temple, with Suguru gone there isn't that many people around either, and even though no one can see you, it still felt weird being around other people, especially when someone walked through you.
When you enter the praying room you notice someone there, sitting on their knees in front of a buddha statue.
Curiosity takes the best of you and you approach the man, wanting to hear what he's praying for, you bend your torso beside him, having your long hair touch the floor, you suppose it would be a scary sight, but you doubt anyone except Geto can see you at this point.
You adjust your posture, but being clumsy doesn't go away with your physical body, so you stumble and end up hitting a gong.
And of course, it doesn't go through you as it's supposed to. Whoever is in charge of deciding the moments you can touch the physical realm is a sadist.
The man who was praying is now standing up shaking like crazy, he’s asking who’s there but you cover your mouth (as if you could speak anyways). A second man enters the room, due to his traditional clothing you judge he’s an authority figure in the temple, but not being a buddhist during your lifetime you can’t be certain.
The first man is explaining what happened while you try to tiptoe your way out of this embarrassing situation (for you and scary for the man that will probably not sleep tonight).
Before you leave you can hear the second man saying this sorta thing has been happening around the temple, people are reporting a sudden cold air, things being moved out of the place and crying sounds during the night.
All your fault of course and half Geto’s fault on the last statement.
Not sad cries by the way but you can see why people would think that.
In fact, Suguru was very determined to have you voicing your pleasure, you still can’t talk, but he learned that through a very strong emotion your voice cords become stronger or at least existent for a brief moment. He’s still testing that and writing his experiments in a notebook.
Suguru says he wants to bring you back at some point but for now he can only do those kinds of experiments, you are happy to be beside him no matter what so you naturally accepts being his guinea pig, the initial resentment you had when you first saw him that day is long gone now. Is not like you have enough energy to think about your death anyways, at some point during the day you become extremely sleepy and eventually disappear, so you have to make the best out of your time with Geto.
Being back in his room you find your way under his blankets, the previous interaction seemed to have drained your energy, you should tell Geto about that so he can write it down in his notebook.
Finally.
Geto opens the car door before the vehicle fully stops at the entrance of the temple, it was only 2 days but he felt like weeks passed by.
And it wasn’t just a homesick feeling, he barely had a home. He just missed you. For years he was by himself, being satisfied with a few pictures and a perfume bottle, yet now he has the real thing — you —, one day without you hits harder than the almost ten years that went by.
It’s punishment, he knows it, the guilt must be felt, he didn’t feel it for ten years so he’s gotta feel it all in two days.
If only you could have a phone in the afterlife to facetime him…
None of that is important now, because he’s back and on his way to find you.
What he finds instead is concerning.
A familiar man with traditional clothes holds a cord and repeats a buddhist chant. The floor he lives in smells weird, in the corner of the room you have your hands around your ears, sitting on your knees and glitching like a scene playing in an old tv during a storm.
“S-Stop” he hears from you, in a strangled hoarse voice.
Suguru’s heart stops for a second, considering for the first time the chance of you being taken away from him. Again.
No, that won’t happen. That exorcism will not continue.
His heart is back, beating at its fastest now, he summons a curse, one too strong for a simple monkey, he blames his emotions for that but he smiles when he sees the half body dropping on the floor.
Your eyes are closed, hands still covering your ears, when you open them — after realizing the awful pain in your heart and head is gone — Suguru is standing in front of you, kneeling and smiling kindly.
He takes your head, running his thumb on your cheek before kissing you, trying to engrave the shape of your lips on his.
“Keep your eyes closed for me, beautiful” you obey, keeping them shut when Suguru manhandles you into his hold and gets up, bringing you to his bedroom and away from the dead body, afraid of the bad memories it may bring you.
“There you go, i’m sorry about that” he kisses your forehead sitting down at his chair with you, “Guess it’s too dangerous to leave you alone, huh?”
You snuggle on his embrace, happy to finally have him back to warm you.
Through a whisper — since that’s the loudest sound that can possibly leave your lips — you confess “I missed you” Suguru pulls you away to look at your face, you can see he’s surprised you managed to speak, he also notices the glassy look in your eyes.
“I love you” your eyes widen, it’s the first time since your death he says it.
Since your death?
“I can’t say I'm sorry” he kissed your cheek and closed your still opened eyes “but I can say I love you, i’ll always love you.”
The memory makes your eyes water.
Well, maybe it’s not the first time since your death, but the first in your afterlife.
“I’ll do whatever it takes for us to stay together.”
🏷️ @rinntvrou @sad-darksoul @grsveeth0m @getomybeloved @sakurasimppp
note: my inbox is open for theories about this au, you can also check the #ghost!reader tag. also keep giving me ideas and i’ll keep writing 🤭
#geto x reader#geto smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#geto x y/n#geto x you#suguru x reader#geto x female reader#— cult-tober
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode IV
Seed of Life
This is @zestys-stuff 's OC. All credits to this character goes to this beautiful, talented artist. Thank you again for allowing me to explore and create with him!
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, fluff, angst, early pregnancy smut (will be forewarned before it happens), daddy daughter drama, Ralak being little rough because reader won’t stop teasing him, Ralak literally has blue balls, ball play, blowjob, brief thigh fucking, likely incorrect na’vi, teacher/student dynamics/roleplay, p in v, quickie, squirting, masturbation, dirty talk, sexual tension, age gap
Disclaimer: This chapter entails pregnancy and sexual intimacy during early pregnancy. I include a warning directly before the smut happens in the case that you want to indulge in this chapter but aren’t necessarily up for the pregnancy smut.
Word Count: 10k sorry
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: thank you guys for always being so patient with me. i love yall too the moon and back <3 happy holidays and a happy new year! also, I’ve realised that I unintentionally decided that Kiri is not involved in this series (i dunno honestly, it’s just occuring to me that I’ve never really mentioned her before and it feels difficult to incorporate her at this point i suppose). It seems like we (reader) have taken her place in this au in regards to being jakes adopted ‘babygirl’ (nothing else though—no superpowers or anything loool).
Synopsis: After telling Ralak that he's going to be a father, the reality dawns on you that you need to break the news to your own father.
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This pregnancy shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, honestly. How could you not be? After such a breeding it would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant. Yet the news wasn’t quite sinking in, even when Tsireya looked at you with wide eyes and spelled it out for you. But now that you’re walking towards the tsahìk, you’re faced with reality and it begins to sink in as you count each step you take.
Forty-two…
The words that rolled off the tarsem’s tongue echo in your skull.
Forty-three…
Etching themselves into the bone, leaving you with no space to deny the truth.
Forty-four…
“You are with child.”
The ringing in your ears stops as your vision refocuses on the stone cold expression of the Tsahìk. Her voice is unfaltering and clear as it delivers the news to your ears a second time. Bowing to the taller woman, you sweep three fingers away from your forehead and turn your heel to walk away. But before you can take two steps she announces something that makes your ears stand tall.
“A boy.”
Her two harshly spoken words strike through your chest, a sinking feeling now brewing in the pit of your stomach. You stop dead in your tracks and lift your head that was once tilted down to your feet. Things become even more real, having you force down a wad of your spit to keep your vision from splitting again. You’re barely able to use your voice—your mouth partially open and your tongue rolling from the churn of your tummy.
“Thank you, Ronal.” You manage to squeak a decibel or two over a whisper, dropping your head again to lock your stare to your feet before fleeing the now-crowding scene. You overhear the people murmuring the news as you scurry away to your marui pod.
‘The forest girl expects the firstborn of the village’s best warrior’;
‘She won’t make it out alive!’;
‘Did you hear? She will birth the first of a new kind. A kind with demon blood’.
If your legs could go any quicker, they would.
A child grows in your womb now. A child for the man you love—Ralak. The man who deserves it most. You’re scared and excited all at once. Proud to bear a son for such a notable and fearsome man. But afraid of how your family will take to the news.
This was your first month of being a mated pair, and you’ve already succumbed to your most primordial instinct to mate. And with what everyone is already whispering, you’re scared of much more than that. Is what they say true? Is this a risky thing? Will he be teased for being different? Will he be rejected from the clan?
Does Ralak… even want this?
You both hadn’t even sat down and spoken about the possible consequences of such a cosmic event—your synced cycles. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he said? Or if he really just couldn’t prevent the things that he did during his rut? How would he react if that were the case?
Your mind is running at a hundred clicks an hour and your nerves are wringing your stomach that it takes the hot sand spilling through the cracks of your toes to make you realise that you’re already home.
And there he is, in all his glory.
Doing nothing other than sharpening his damn spear. Sitting on his knees, leaned back with his flexed abs and gathered brows, concentrating on his task—blissfully unaware of the gossip spreading throughout the clan. The sight brings serenity to the white noise in your head, leaving nothing but the crash of the waves and the splash of the ilus off in the distance. I
Ralak’s ears twitch as he senses your presence, but he remains focused on the stroke of his whetstone against the blade. He can feel your apprehension from where he sits, and he can already tell what you’re here for. Yet he chooses to keep his appearance no less than stoic, but not enough to be intimidating.
“Tanhì.” He hums low enough that you strain to hear him.
“I need to speak with you.” You utter, wetting your dry lips with a quick swipe of your tongue. You stand there fidgeting with your fingers as you await a reply from your husband. It’s almost mortifying how silent this man can actually be. You see the slight tilt of his head and his ear perk up to listen closely. Taking this as your cue to speak, you try to find the words to say.
How do I say this?
Ralak is a simple man, perhaps it’s better to give it to him straight. An easy, ‘I carry your unborn son’, would do, right? You begin to gnaw on the dry skin on your bottom lip as you think. But his silence is really getting to you today. How can he sit there so… unbothered? Not even a glance thrown your way or an eyelash batted. Maybe you should just spit it out — ‘you got me pregnant’.
“Hm?” He lets out a muffled grunt, swiping the whetstone against the spearhead. It sounds innocent. Like he’s just immersed in a task and couldn’t quite bring himself to completely stop.
“We no longer need to prepare for my heat.” You blurt out, not even knowing where the words came from. You witness his spine straighten and him quickly stilling his movements.
Little did you know his heart gallops at the speed of a direhorse, thumping wildly between his ribs as he prepares himself to finally hear you utter the words. Oh, how he had been waiting for your sweet voice to sing the news. But he realises that you seem to need an extra push to say them.
“And why is that?” Ralak husks, still unmoving.
You wait for him to turn around. To look your way. Something.
But… nothing.
“I’m pregnant.”
Ralaks heart skips a beat and his breath catches in his throat. A grin spreads from ear to ear, so strong and wide that if you were really paying attention you would have caught the way his ears stand at full height.
But you were too busy fighting the bubble of the blood in your thumping heart, trying to keep your frustration to a minimum. You had expected more. For him to turn around, at the very least. All you could hear was the da-dump and the silence between you two. Until you couldn’t take it anymore.
Perhaps it’s all the hushed chatter from earlier or maybe it’s just the new surge of hormones and out-of-whack pheromones but you can’t help the burn of your eyes as they fill with tears.
“So w-what? Not even a glance my way? You knock me up and have nothing to s-say for it?” You choke back your heated tears of frustration, Ralak now huffing a vehement sigh. “You’re not even surprised, or—” Your blubbering is cut short by your husband's quick movement.
Ralak instantaneously brings himself to his feet and storms over to you, towering over your petite frame. Now he’s peering down at you, dark, smouldering eyes holding the most intimidating gaze with you as he closes the distance between your bodies. He’s still damp from seeing to the ilus this morning that when your chest touches his cold, bare stomach, it hardens your nipples into stiff peaks.
“Surprised?” He rasps, his large hand flying to your lower stomach, gently pressing into it. Heaving shoulders slowing as he steadies his breathing, Ralak lowers his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear—
“Do you not think I had every intention of putting this baby inside of you?”
Hearing this spoken in such an assertive tone sends shivers up your spine—Ralak knows exactly how to handle you and your… sensitivity. He always has. Your tail sways uncontrollably behind you, earning a well concealed smirk from the giant before you. It’s always been one of his favourite parts of you, but now—oh, now he has a new favourite part of you.
Your soon-to-be swelling belly.
“I have known.” He admits through a whisper, smoothing his entire palm over your budding womb, planting a quick kiss on your temple. “Your scent… it has changed, tanhì.”
“What?” You whisper, almost pulling away from his tender touches to look at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”
“I wanted to hear you say it. I have been waiting… to hear you say it.” He’s the one to pull away this time, looking you deeply in the eyes. His free hand raises, using his thumb to wipe away a tear seeping from the corner of your eye. “Please. Do not cry.”
You don’t even know what to say. Yet again, Ralak leaves you speechless—with trembling lips and a swelling throat.
“And you are actually eating the payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] I cook.”
“What?” You snort, letting loose a sudden, nasally giggle. You drop your smile and try to fix a serious expression on your face. “What do you mean? I always eat your payoang niktsyey [fish wraps]”
Ralak laughs, his three fingers tucking hair behind your ear, “I see you throw them to the ilus, tanhì. I am no fool.”
You laugh again, snotty-nosed and teary-eyed, sniffling when the uncontrollable giggling fit ends. “It seems that our son enjoys your cooking, ‘lak.” You bubbler with a wobbly smile, blinking harshly to clear your vision.
Ralaks eyes bulge as they frantically search yours—a beaming smile spreading across his lips, his pointed teeth on full display. “Son?” He exhales softly, his left brow bone jumping ever so slightly.
All you can do is nod, letting your wobbly smile morph into a grin. The tears come back like they never left, twice as much and even hotter than before. You swear you see Ralaks eyes gloss over too, glistering in the sunlight.
Ralak sinks to his knees, coming face to face with your soft tummy.
“My prrnen [baby]. My ‘evengan [son; boy child]. It is your sempu [daddy].” He whispers, heated lips slightly pressed against your silken skin. Chin tucked to your chest, you watch in awe, straining to listen to his hushed whispers. “I have wanted you for so long.”
Hearing that—oh, how hearing that makes you feel. You feel warm inside, your heart so full all your earlier fears melt away. Ralak looks up at you, azure blue eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration—gratitude and admiration.
“My sweet tanhì. You have made me the man I have always wanted to be.” He croons at you, planting a long, soft kiss on your stomach—eyes still locked with yours. “And I thank you for that. Nìt’iluke [forever; never-endingly]”
And just like that, the butterflies you felt when you first laid eyes on this man come rushing in, flapping their wings at full force.
“I am your mate.” You sputter out a little, tiny sob. “It’s what I-I am supposed to do.”
Ralak stands up, holding eye contact with you the entire way.
“You owe me nothing. It is an honour that you carry my unborn, y/n.” His hand leaves your stomach to grasp your hand, intertwining his thickset fingers with yours. “You will be a nawm [great] mother.”
“And you will be the best father.” You choke back your sobs, struggling to get your words out. A comfortable silence passes, where you both immerse yourselves into one another’s touch. Until Ralak witnesses your expression morph into something of worry.
“What is it?” He asks in a hushed voice, keeping his tone calm and cool.
“Speaking of… fathers.” The column of your throat undulates when you gulp hard, “How will I tell mine?”
Ralak swallows, too. The thought had crossed his mind a few times over the past week. He saw the answer as simple – tell him. Ralak holds a lot of respect for your father, looking up at him as a superior given his status and skill as a warrior. And although he’s slightly intimidated by your father, Ralak sees this respect as mutual—therefore, it should be returned. Surely, this will go smoothly if you both remain polite.
Right?
“We tell him. Together.” Ralak grasps your hand once more, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his heavy accent shining through now that he’s high on emotions, “I keep you safe. Both of you.”
——
Both you and Ralak make your way down the shore towards the webbing of overlapping mangrove roots. Though you insisted on breaking the news to your family by yourself, he was adamant that he accompanies you. You couldn’t bear the thought of your father lashing out on Ralak, especially in front of the others. You tried to explain that to him, but he simply shook his head and tightened the clasp of his saya (knife sheath) on his hip.
You make the trek by foot, wanting a little more time to think about what you were going to say, and he ensured to stay right behind you. Quite literally—looming behind you like some sort of bodyguard. Every na’vi you pass are quick to avert their gaze elsewhere when they see the giant you have as a shadow. They tried not to look to begin with, but it was a rare sight to see you two so close together among the clan.
Their hushed whispers are kept to an absolute minimum but Ralak hears them nonetheless. It doesn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It used to bother him before he had met you—hearing the chatter of the gossip about his voluntary six year celibacy despite being the chief’s right hand man. And now that the murmurs entail nothing but his relationship with you, he could care less.
But then he hears the indistinct mumble about the babe budding in your womb. It’s something along the lines of ‘it being some demon hybrid’. The comment alone has Ralak screeching to a halt, his head snapping in the direction of a stocky, young warrior in training. One that Tonowari had relentlessly urged Ralak to teach until he begrudgingly gave him a couple combat lessons.
Ralak’s eyes narrow and sharpen, snapping down to shoot a threatening leer down at him. That's all it took for the stumpy na’vi to drop his head in shame and scurry away with his younger companions.
Sensing that Ralak is no longer on your tail, you turn around, half-expecting him to be five steps behind. Instead, he’s right where you left him, with a reassuring smile and an extended hand gesturing you to ‘continue’. You return a light hearted smile and spin around, taking another step towards your family marui.
——
“To what do we owe the visit?” Neteyam smiles as he greets you at the marui door, arms splayed out for a hug. You smile and slump into your brother, allowing him to envelope you in a warm embrace. “We haven’t seen you in what feels like weeks, sis.”
“Because we haven’t.” Lo’ak adds, lurking behind his bigger brother, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face.
“Hey Lo’.” You say in a low voice, smiling at him as you let go of your big brother. Ralak silently stands at the marui door, head awkwardly tilted in an attempt to fit himself in such a tight space.
“Hey, sissy.” Lo’ak throws an arm around your neck, patting your shoulder a few times as he walks you further inside and away from Ralak. “What’s up with the shadow?” He doesn’t even try to quieten his voice as he nudges his chin in your husband's direction.
You force a little laugh, unwrapping his arm from around your neck so you can inch away back to your ‘shadow’. You back up until you bump into his solid build, making a muffled thump when you collide. He steadies you by the shoulders, lidded eyes flicking down to check that you’re okay. He can sense your nervousness.
“I–we… have something to tell you guys.” You begin, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Where’s everyone else?”
Lo’ak’s eyes squint, brows furrowing as the gears in his brain grind twice as fast to figure out what you could possibly be calling a family meeting for. “No fucking way. Already?” He blurts out when he finally puts two and two together. Your eyes widen when they dart over to him, catching sight of the shit eating grin plastered to his face.
Fuck, is this skxawng going to spoil it for me? You think to yourself, apparently loud enough for Ralak to hear. He squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down the full length of your arms and letting go. “Mawey [calm].” He breathes, his head still hanging low. You look behind you, tilting your head up to meet his comforting gaze.
“Hey, babygirl.” Jake’s voice snaps your attention back down, having you look your father in the eye. His smile is as wide as his arms as he approaches you for a hug.
“Dad. Hey.” You whisper, returning the hug and snuggling into his chest. You bask in the moment, lingering onto how things are now—before you drop the bomb on him.
“I missed ya.” Jake chuckles, rubbing your back. He finally lifts his head and sees your ‘shadow’ hovering a little closer than needed. “Jeez, let her breathe, boy. She’s just huggin’ her old man.” Ralak keeps his head hung and takes a small but noticeable step back. Jake gives you a quick peck on the head as he begins to pull away. “What have ya’ been up—”
Jake cuts himself short, leaning back in to smell your hair. His eyebrows gather when he recognizes the familiar scent. Neytiri has smelled similarly a few times before. Jake grinds his teeth, scrunched brows and narrow eyes giving away his current state of mind. His hands slide down your arms, gripping then as he looks you dead in the eye. “Y/n. You got somethin’ to tell me?”
“Dad–” You swallow down the knot in your throat, already getting choked up.
Jake's lips purse into a thin line as his death-stare immediately averts to Ralak. And for what feels like an eternity, nothing but silence fills the room. The tension in the air is almost suffocating. Jakes eyeing Ralak down whilst Ralaks stare is locked on the way he’s holding you.
You glance over at your brothers. One’s obviously got it figured out, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. And one is completely clueless—poor thing. You look back at your father who is now seething, leer averted back to you as he exerts all his energy into being patient.
“What’s going on? Guys?” Neteyam breaks the silence with a worried tone to his voice. His eyes bounce from person to person, until they land on his brother.
“He knocked her up.” Lo’aks whispers harshly, not even trying to be discreet. Neteyams brows raise and now he is, too, staring at you. You feel all the blood drain from your face and suddenly you’re extremely light in the head.
Mortified is an understatement.
Everyone is clearly waiting for you to confirm it. But you’re having such a difficult time saying the two silly little words. The pressure is on now, you could even see Ralak straining to hold his tongue. You finally muster up a cowardly nod, and immediately your fathers grip intensifies, squeezing your arms firm and tight. He’s looking down at you with eyes of disbelief and somewhat disappointment, frantically searching yours to see if this is really the truth. You let loose a low hiss, wincing when you feel the pinch of his grip.
Not even another second passes when you hear the slap of your husband’s large hands grabbing ahold of your father’s wrists.
“She is pregnant.”
A deep, but low growl rips from Ralaks chest. In other words, ‘never lay your hands on a pregnant woman’. Ralak dwarfs Jake as he inches in a little closer, grasping his wrists just firm enough to send this message.
“Yeah. Got it, bud.” Jake returns a growl through his teeth and tightened lips. He shifts his position slightly, eyes flicking down to acknowledge what his son in law is trying to get across. Nonetheless, Jake stands his ground. “Get your hands off me.”
Ralak tries to regain his composure, but his protective instincts have just about gone haywire. The urge to protect has never been so intense before. It’s like his soul knows that there’s just more to protect.
More at stake.
Ralak looks down at your fathers hands once more, silently making his point clear. He holds eye contact with Toruk makto whilst he remains unmoving.
“Lak…” You squeak a warning to your husband, who only flutters his jaw as a response. Lo’ak and Neteyam are on edge, both concerned that their father has a grip on you, but even more so that Ralak has a grip on their father. They watch intently, trying to decipher if and when they need to intervene.
To everyone’s surprise, Jake exhales harshly through his nose and gently pulls away from you, but wrenches his wrists away from Ralak’s grasp. “Sorry, kid.” Jake spits an apology, readjusting his position to be directly in front of Ralak. “Care to explain how this happened so damn quick?”
“Dad!” You shout in disbelief, wedging yourself back in between the two.
“You know what? Don’t even answer that.” Jake snaps.
“You know you are really no one to talk! Where’s mom? Mom!” You go on the tips of your toes, leaning from side to side to look for her behind both the two male na’vi.
“‘xcuse me?” Jake purposely blocks your view by bobbing his head wherever yours goes. “I am still your father and you will not speak to me that—” Jake steps to the left to avoid Ralak and walk towards you. Ralak quickly adjusts himself to be the wall between you and your father, not allowing Jake the chance to even finish his sentence. Ralak is now looking down at Jake with a stoic expression, trying his best not to come off intimidating or challenging in any way.
All to no avail.
“You got a problem with me, boy?” Jake grumbles through his clenched jaw, getting in Ralaks face now.
“No. Only keeping my word, sir.” Ralak simply responds.
Jakes brought back to the very moment he made Ralak give him his word. His word that he’d never let a thing happen to his baby girl. The night you completed your iknimaya. The night he granted Ralak the permission to mate with you.
The night Ralak took your virginity.
Jake stalls for a few seconds, taken aback by Ralaks behaviour but a little impressed at the same time. Jake's expression softens upon realizing that Ralak is just protecting his mate—just as he does Neytiri, especially during her pregnancies.
But there’s no way in hell that Jake will be the first one to back down here.
“Mom!” You call for her once more, hoping that she’ll swoop in and save the day.
Neytiri rushes in, hand on her hip where she keeps her dagger sheathed—worry and concern etched into her features. She analyses the situation, taking in the scene of her own mate standing face to face with yours. She glances over at you, seeing the panic in your eyes and the hand on your stomach that you didn’t even know you had placed there. Slowly walking up to the two male na’vi, she places a firm hand on her mates chest, pushing him away from Ralak. “Ma’ Jake. What is happening here?”
Jake’s pressing his lips firmly together, not wanting to say the words. He shakes his head a little, huffing through his nostrils before placing a hand on his hip. His other hand extends in your direction, as if he were pointing out the obvious. Yet he remains choked up and speechless, his hand falling to his thigh as he gives up.
Finally, he mumbles, “Go on. Tell her.”
Neytiri looks back at you, eyes trailing back down to your hand that’s mindlessly resting on your stomach as she awaits for your answer. You feel the burn of her eyes, yanking away your hand when it becomes too much. Being the daughter of Mo’at, a tsahik, Neytiri needed nothing more than a quick glance and sniff to know what’s going on. “Is this true?”
“Yes, mom. It is true. I am.” You say in a defeated tone of voice. Ralak shifts himself, settling close beside you now rather than in front of you. He always had an even greater respect for your mother.
Neytiri’s expression only grows softer, until there's no trace of concern left in her face. Her smile is downturned but her eyes are bright, glistening with joy as she pulls you in for a warm embrace.
“It is a blessing from Eywa, my child.”
She pulls away from you, now looking over to Ralak. Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Ralaks upper bicep, “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations] .” Ralak signs ‘I see you’ to his mother in law, exchanging a light hearted smile with her.
It was no secret that Neytiri longed to be a grandmother. Her days of children are over now, although she was expecting her eldest, Neteyam, to give her a grandchild first. But Ralak — Ralak is a remarkable, mighty warrior and hunter. The olo’eyktans right hand man, and undoubtedly the best fisherman in the village.
In fact, Ralak was one of the first people Neytiri took a liking to after she adjusted to the way of water. She always felt that he was a good suitor for her daughter.
“Are you kiddin’ me? It’s barely been two months!” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.
“And a day for us, Jake.” Neytiri tries her best to keep a calm, but firm voice. “They are a mated pair, they are having a family now. It is Eywa’s will.”
Jake quiets himself, reflecting on his harsh ways. He sighs, loudly. His eyes finally glance down to what everyone in the room has been looking at, now staring at your protective hand that mindlessly lay over your womb once again. He grits his teeth, averting his stare to the ground, eyeing the charred wood of the fire pit. His tongue clicks as he parts his lips, muttering—
“I know… I know, alright? She’s just—” He looks up at Neytiri, then Ralak, and then you. “She’s my babygirl.”
It’s his way of saying, ‘I just want to protect my family.’
“Dad. I am but—but I’m not your baby anymore. I’m not a kid.” You croak, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him. “Your grandson is the new baby of this family.”
Jake tries to fight the way his eyebrows scrunch together, it was like hearing about the news of his firstborn son all over again. He exhales slowly, nodding his head and extending his arms to hold you. His warmth envelopes you completely, leaving no room for any cold or harsh thoughts and feelings to linger.
“You keep ‘em safe.” Jake's chin presses into the crown of your head as he mutters the words to Ralak. Ralak had always had a hard time understanding Jake's native slang, but this he understood— loud and clear.
“Always.” Ralak answers firmly.
Your safety has been, is and will always be his number one priority.
Jake nods once, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go fully. “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], you two.”
“Thank you, dad.” You smile whilst Ralak bows his head. Neteyam and Lo’ak finally come over for their hugs, making a comment of their own as they release you from their grasps.
“I’m gonna teach him everything I know.” Lo’aks grin is unnerving and a little sinister, giving away the trouble that he’s already trying to get your son into.
“Please don’t.” You joke back with your brother, even though you’re being dead serious.
Neteyam jabs an elbow into his brother's rib cage, disciplining him for his mischief. “Agh — do not worry, Uncle TeTe will keep him in check.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” You say softly with a smile on your face, “‘Uncle TeTe’. I like that.”
“Hey, don’t forget about ‘Uncle Lo’Lo’.” Lo’ak chimes in.
“Eh. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know? What do you think, lak?” You jester, looking up at him to be met with a slight smirk.
“Very… hiyìk [strange; funny].” Ralaks smirk pulls at his lips a little more. “But, at least it is not ‘ak’-ak’.”
You swear you hear a little chuckle from everyone in the room. All except Lo’ak, who is staring at Ralak with a deadpan expression, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It feels like an eternity passes until Lo’ak finally booms with laughter, extending his arm out to Ralak, who gaily reciprocates and meets Lo’aks’ with a smack.
“I like this bodyguard of yours, y/n. He actually has a sense of humour.”
You let loose a scoff and roll your eyes, about ready to wrap this whole thing up and lie down in bed. It’s seemingly obvious, seeing that everyone is giving you space as they take note of your restless body language and bowed shoulders.
“If you are tired, you should rest.” Neytiri advises, just as you feel Ralaks hand tuck under your arm to support your weight. “Your body is working hard right now.”
“Yeah, mom. I think I need to lie down for a little.” You mumble, leaning into your mate a little more.
Your family practically ushers you out, encouraging you to get some rest and to get off your feet. Ralak walks close to you on the way home, keeping with the pace you set to the tee — only intervening with a hand to your hip when necessary.
And when you finally slump into bed, your eyelids flutter shut before Ralak can settle himself beside you.
——smut warning——
You rouse to Ralak drawing the curtain of your marui, blocking out the orange hue of the last eclipse. It dawns on you that you’ve slept out most of the day. You didn’t even realise you were so tired to begin with.
“You should have woken me earlier. I slept out the day.” You mumble, sitting up in bed and lightly kicking off the sheets.
Ralak turns around, surprised that you’re awake. He curses himself under his breath; he was hoping to keep you sleeping by drawing the curtains but instead he did the opposite.
“You needed to rest.” He says, making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have been more tired recently.”
“Yeah?” You snort, “…and what else have I been, sir know-it-all?”
Ralak chuckles, his eyes falling to your stomach. “…a little more hungry.”
You smile a little, remembering his fish wrap comment from earlier.
But then you witness his half-lidded eyes glaze over with something of… wanton. It takes a second to realise that they’re no longer staring at your belly. They’re staring at your tewng [loincloth]. More specifically, the mound imprinting it.
It’s the way your pussy is being so tightly squeezed by the thin cloth covering it. It’s the one thing that Ralak can’t help himself from indulging in admiring. Then his eyes snap away, unexpectedly meeting yours. The stare he’s giving you has your thighs rubbing together and your lower tummy tingling.
“…a little more tempting.” His voice is thick like honey, laced with lust and arousal.
In every way. From the way you fill out your top more, to your scent—you’re becoming more
irresistible the farther along you progress. Your heart beats a little harder between your ribs as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. His lecherous gaze is fixed, blue eyes piercing into yours. It’s been too long since he’s been inside you that it aches.
But he’s been patient.
Especially since the day he figured out you were pregnant. With the way you smelt he found it hard to keep his distance at times but nonetheless, he did it. But the truth is that you haven’t had penetrative sex since your cycles synced.
To be clear, he took care of you just fine.
Tending to your needs whenever you initiated intimacy with him but he never took it further than his fingers and mouth. After seeing you so battered by his own hands he found it hard to put you in a position that could garner a similar result again.
For a while, he lost trust within himself.
That he no longer had the capacity for self control. Not only did he feel like he didn’t deserve it, but he never expected you to return the pleasure either. He had already taken you on his own terms. Repeatedly.
Ruthlessly.
So when you ate one to many of his payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] — when the new earthiness of your scent wafted past his nose — he knew. He knew it stuck. He knew your womb swelled with his child as each day passed. And the urge to protect only swelled with it.
He became even more gentle with you. Handling you with care when your skin softened and your hips became a little fuller. Ensuring he had excess when he cooked. Weaving an extra thick blanket for you to sleep with when he was off on duty with Tonowari.
It ached most when he’d come home just to see it kicked off onto the floor, with you on your stomach and your leg propped up just right. Your loincloth would always shift to the side, just enough to expose plump folds that innocently peek through the seam of the thin fabric. Fuck, it more than ached. It made him tender. Throbbing in his own tewng.
Just like now.
He dares not to break the steady, intent stare. Or else he may steal another glance at the softness between your thighs. But he can see in your eyes that you feel similarly. You always give him that look before doing something ‘troublesome’. You break eye contact first, your eyes now landing on his tewng.
Fuck.
Your eyes widen a little when you catch sight of the growing, thick bulge in his loincloth. Your gaze locks onto it, taking in every detail. From the thick stripes on his thighs to the way the twine of his loincloth is cutting into his v-lines. You can even see the outline of the crown of his cock.
His stomach rises and falls from his uneven breathing, and his abs pop out one by one as he leans further back—supporting his torso with his arms behind his back. He was never shy about his body, and he certainly isn’t now.
“Then, why do you resist me?” Though it's a question, it doesn’t sound like one when the words drip off your lips. Your voice is soft and feigned with innocence, yet you're shuffling to get on all fours to crawl over to him. You truthfully don’t care for the answer, you knew that it would be the same old song—‘he doesn’t want to hurt you’.
“I hurt you.” He says coldly—simply, glancing at the fading scar on your shoulder as you settle yourself on your knees beside him. He watches as your hand finds purchase on his knee, and slides up his thigh. “And now that you are with child… I—haah”. He’s cut short with a shaky breath and slight jolt when you cup his bulge with a bit of force. He looks down at your hand, dainty and slender, barely grasping half of what’s under his tewng.
“You worry about me too much.” You mumble, more focused on the speed at which his cock pulses at. “Yet still, never yourself.” You feel around, sliding your palm up and down its length, earning a rough exhale from Ralak in return. His lidded eyes dart back over to you, taking in the sight of you almost bent over his lap.
“That so?” His voice is thick and gruff.
“Mhm. ‘m always telling you that, aren’t I?” You hum softly, slowly moving your hand further down between his legs, firmly cupping his balls. They’re heavy in your hand, hot to the touch and—
Eywa.
“They’re swollen.” You whisper breathlessly, your glossy eyes meeting him with concern. They dart back to his crotch, your hand now fumbling with the twine of his tewng, hurriedly trying to unravel the knot to get the suffocating fabric off him.
“‘tis fine.” He winces as he spits out the words, watching you pinch him a little while struggling with the taut material.
Ignoring his words, you continue with your task, a bit more gently now. And when the knot comes undone, the twine falls off his hips and the tewng loosens with it. You tug it off him and see that they’re not only puffed up but also darker in colour. They’re firm and pulled close to his body, perfectly round and stripes well-defined.
Shamefully, it turns you on to see his balls so full.
Just the thought of them being so swollen with his seed that they’re aching and throbbing to empty themselves inside you—fuck, it’s making your teeth grit. You sit back into the dip of your feet and stare as your breathing becomes heavier. The more you look the more you realize that they’re pulling tighter and tighter towards his core. You look up at him, a little surprised. Your arousal is etched into your features and it’s more than obvious in your body language. You want to know how they’d feel in your mouth. How they’d taste.
If they’d even fit.
Without another passing second you bend over his lap, tail high in the air and legs spread—the overpowering scent of your arousal filling the air. You shove your face between his thighs, inhaling deeply his musky scent. You let out a breath of desire, one that sounds nothing short of pleasure and satisfaction. He smells too good. You can’t help yourself but give his firm balls a quick, kitten lick. The giant above you holds back his chuckle, finding your behaviour cute and honestly a little amusing. Feeling like the butt of a joke, you firmly grasp his length and tug it upwards, causing his balls to pull even tighter.
“Y/n.” He hisses your name, adjusting his legs to rid himself of the strained feeling. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, and press your cheek against them. They’re hot—heating up a degree higher the more you tease him. Just as you pull your cheek away and manage to fit one of them into your mouth, his hand flies to the back of your head, balling your hair into his fist.
“You need not to—” your tail curls and the tip of it tickles against his chest, “—haah…do this.” Ralak huffs out a sigh of frustration it seems, looking down at you with somewhat of a predatory leer. You pop off with a pwah, catching your breath and turning your head.
You both share an intent stare with one another, one that feels more challenging than anything. He’s insistent that he’s undeserving of this, and you’re insistent that he must be taken care of. His grip loosens on your hair, until he lets you go completely.
“Shh…shh.” You shush him, eyes narrowing as they remain locked onto him. You slowly slide off the bed one leg at a time, sinking to your knees and settling yourself between his legs—now looking up at him with doe-eyes. The sight before you has your heart palpitating, just like the sight of your face so close to his cock has his jaw clenching.
Ralak quiets himself by locking his jaw, waiting patiently to see how this unfolds. It’s the first he’s seen you in this position, on your knees, between his. His cock twitches in excitement as clear, thick beads of precum begin to roll down its length. You swallow thickly at the sight, wrapping your dainty fingers around its girth to pull it close to your flushed lips.
Ralaks ears flutter and his eyelids grow heavy, his chest heaving as he shifts his weight to the palms of his hands—sitting up.
You open your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting your lips together. They break when you lower your head, taking the mushroomy, glistening head of his cock into your mouth. It’s mostly sweet, and a little salty too. The corners of your mouth sting as you accommodate his thickness, and you struggle to open your jaw wide enough to take him further into your mouth.
His head dips forward, eyes slamming shut when he feels your wet, warm tongue press against the underside of his cockhead. His hand flies to your head again, gently cupping the back of your skull as he lets out a strained breath.
Muffled noises vibrate through your nose as you swipe your tongue side to side against his head. It throbs against your tongue each time it hits that sensitive spot right down the middle. You suckle and swipe at the same time, using your hands to pump the rest of his length until you're grunting and snorting for air. You come up, gasping to fill your lungs.
His hand quickly slides from the back of your head to cup the swell of your cheek. His calloused thumb swipes at a bead of saliva rolling down your chin and pops it back into your mouth. “What are you doing, my tanhì?” He whispers the rhetorical question, ensuring his voice is calm and gentle. It sounds as if he’s given up—given in.
Without answering, you take him back into your mouth, locking your jaw once you open it as wide as you possibly can. You stick your tongue out as far as it’ll go and look up at him with eyes that begin to water. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, which morphs into one of astonishment. Your head goes lower and lower, taking inch after inch of his cock down your throat.
The tears in your eyes finally spill over, and your nose begins to burn. Half of his length is down your throat and you can barely breathe, but the more his face grimaces from how good you feel around him, the more of him you urge yourself to take. You hold onto his hips, using them as leverage to shove more of him down your throat.
“Hnng. Easy.” He groans roughly, pushing back against your shoves. “You are pregnaaah—mmn, you will make yourself sick, tanhì.”
Lifting your hand from his hip, you smack away his hand and take him full hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making it bulge. You stop for a second, slowly inhaling through your nose to focus on not gagging. You try moving the back of your tongue, slowly stroking the rest of his length with your hand.
“Ah, shit.” He exhales shakily, his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut. He looks focused, like he’s concentrating on not cumming down your throat right then and there. Lips parted slightly, each breath he takes becomes louder and more raggedy. His thigh muscles tense up and his legs spread a little more, his hand finding its own way to the base of your kuru.
Chest swelling with pride, you begin to bob your head and coat his cock with your sticky spit. The more slippery it gets the harder he has to fight back his choked grunts. The grip he has on your kuru is tightening, as if he were preparing himself to pry you off his cock before he fills your throat.
Suddenly, his head sinks back and his jaw clenches—hard. You could feel it. The way his cock twitches. The way it’s heating up. The way it’s swelling in your mouth. Gurgled noises are escaping past his lips, and he purses them tightly together in attempts to keep himself quiet. His core flexes, and his hips start to stutter. His whole body jolts from how sensitive he’s getting, and finally he thrusts into your mouth, the pointed tip of his cock slamming into the back of your throat.
You silently gag as his hips stammer into you and he’s fucking your throat in frenzied little movements. He’s trying his hardest to be as gentle as he possibly can.m, but your throat is so soft and tight around him. You swallow around his cock as you try to take a breath and suddenly his erratic movements still.
“Y/n.” He lets loose a dying groan as his head slumps forward and his inebriated eyes struggle to open.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
His voice is gravelly and thick with restraint. You love to see him like this—hear him like this. You can’t help the wandering hand that’s making its way down to your soaked tewng. You try to touch yourself through the fabric, but have a hard time finding your clit with it covered like this. Exasperated, you shove your hand under the band of your loincloth and use all four fingers to rub sloppy circles into your puffy clit.
Ralak is too immersed into this to even take note of your desperation. He’s too desperate himself. And if you don’t stop now, he really won’t be able to help himself. He begins tugging you by your queue, trying to pry you away from him. With each hasty swipe of your fingers you suck a little harder, as if you were trying to match your pleasure with your mates’. He pulls at your kuru even harder but you’re unbudging, firmly holding the base of his cock as you relentlessly suckle on the most sensitive part of his tip.
“Stop.” He growls out of breath, finally looking down just to be tipped close to the edge by the sight below him. You look dumb and fucked out with his cock stuffed in your mouth, broken moans vibrating against his length as you franticly touch yourself.
Finally, he yanks you off him with one swift, hard tug, his cock slapping his stomach when it pops out of your mouth. You land on your behind, legs spreading wide open as your fingers work away at your now throbbing clit.
“Why? Can’t handle it?” You taunt him between pants and breathy, hoarse moans. Rather than answering he looks down at you with a cocked brow, kuru still in hand. Both of you stare at one another, shoulders and chests violently heaving as you both pant for air. He’s raw and pulsing, twitching from the heartbeat in the crown of his cock.
It's suspended mid air, jumping from how insanely aroused he’s left himself. Sticky beads of precum constantly roll down his shaft, one after the next and his balls are throbbing too. You get back on your knees and lunge for his cock again, tongue darting out to have another taste. He pulls you back, his hand still having a firm grasp of your kuru.
“Is this what you are like when you have been bred?” Ralak huffs, a little taken aback by your lewd behaviour. His gaze shifts to your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum, and a smirk spreads across his lips. “So desperate.” Your silence has his brows scrunching together and him yanking your head back so you’re looking up at him. A growl rumbles in his chest as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you to your knees with him—his hung cock swaying directly in your face.
A smug little smile pulls at your lips when you realise you’re riling him up. You witness his jawbone flutter, his ears laying flat against his skull. He just wants to stuff his cock back down your throat to teach you a lesson. Instead he shoves your face into his crotch, your nose burying itself into the space between his cock and balls. He holds you there for a few seconds, just long enough that when he finally pulls you away you suck in a tiny gasp of air.
Ralak sighs a low, lengthy breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. He can’t understand how such a little thing can be so feisty. To act as if he couldn’t pin you down and take you without a scuffle. Truthfully it only makes him even harder. It only further proves that you are really the woman for him.
Slowly bringing you to your feet, he keeps your face pressed to his body so that your bottom lip drags along his torso as you make your way up. Your hand is still stuffed inside your tewng, slick fingers working hard to find their way back to your clit. With his free hand he grabs a hold of your hip, and steadily backs you up against the wall.
When your back hits the wall, a shaky breath is expelled from your lungs. He lets go of your kuru and rips your hand from your tewng. He then wedges his knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clit, making it flutter uncontrollably. His movements are quick but gentle, filled with purpose and desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours as he searches them, his face just inches away from yours.
“Answer me, little one.” He whispers into your mouth.
“Yes.” Your answer is breathy and short.
Ralak heaves a heavy sigh.
“I am trying to be gentle…” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, using both hands on your hips to spin you around to face the wall. He lowers his head until his lips graze against the tip of your ear. “…but you make it so hard for me.” He growls, using the perfect amount of force to pin you against the wall with his body. His large hand swiftly moves to your lower stomach, cupping it to act as a protective barrier between the wall and your budding womb.
“No need to be. I can handle you just fine.” Your lips are pressed tight to your teeth, face flush against the smooth surface, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Pregnant or not.”
Ralak chuckles.
“Is that right?” He speaks in an almost condescending tone, hurriedly tugging down your loincloth just enough to get access to your cunt. Without warning, he bends his knees a little to align your pelvises and then shoves his cock between your slickened, warm folds. “Oh tanhì, you are soaked.” His voice quiets down into a hushed whisper, “All from sucking my cock?”
A mewl splits your lips just as all the blood rushes to your face, staining it a bright pink. Your pussy clenches around nothingness only causing more of your slick to ooze on his cock. Your breath turns shaky, tail swishing wildly behind you. You can’t move even if you wanted to. He’s got you pinned down, quickly reminding you of his strength. And had it not been for his hand on your abdomen you would be completely plastered to the wall and taken on his terms.
“Tsk-tsk…Have you no shame?” Ralak tuts, holding you still. “Or must I give you a lesson on self-restraint?”
Despite his cockiness you can sense the urgency in his body language and in his voice. You can feel it in the way his hips stutter, as his cock slides back and forth between your pussy lips. His own desperation. The desire to be inside you. The need for release.
“Go on then, karyu.” You moan softly, causing his grip on you to loosen for a millisecond. Hearing that name brings a feeling of nostalgia. Of lust. You push back into him, your slippery hole trying to suck him inside with a few quick movements of your pelvis. “But I know you’ve been desperate… desperate to fuck your numeyu.”
“Oh, little one.” His chuckle is dark and depraved, his protective hand stiffening as if he were preparing it for what's to come. “Yet you are trying your hardest to take me inside you.” He licks your ear lobe to tip, whispering, “so cute.”
“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You mutter under your breath, steadying your feet to ground yourself.
Ralaks ears flicker and stand tall, then immediately lay flat to his head—his brow cocking in astonishment. His smirk grows wider, the heat in his chest spreading to his extremities. Now that pushes him over the edge.
“Say that again, numeyu.” He challenges you in a growl, angling his hips so his weeping cockhead prods at your entrance. He ensures not to let the buck of his hips win, keeping you empty and yearning.
“Haah… afraid to take what’s yours.” You purr, rising to the tips of your toes to try sink him inside you. “Fnawe’tu—”
Smack.
The sound of his swollen balls making contact with your puffy clit is almost as loud as your broken gasp. You smile open mouthed as he holds his position balls deep inside you, firmly pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. He’s grinding his back teeth, digging his chin into your shoulder to quell the rumble of his chest from how tight you’re squeezing his cock.
You whine from the fullness of him stuffed inside your cunt, his unmoving hips sending a clear message of dominance. He’s hunched over you, body weight pinning you mercilessly against the wall, hand over your womb to keep your unborn safe—as promised. Still being gentle enough.
But you want him to lose it.
To fuck into you like he were in rut again. To use your pussy like a fucktoy to satiate his own greed and self pleasure. He deserves that much, for being such a competent and loving man to you. Yet it seems the only way to bring that out of him is to play dirty.
“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You repeat shakily.
Smack.
Another deep and hard thrust into your sloppy cunt. He lets loose the rumble in his chest this time, bearing his canines and putting most of his weight on you now. Lips pressed tightly together, your whimper is muffled and outright pathetic, pinched brows giving away the pleasure rippling through you. Still, he remains unmoving, undeniably making it clear who has the most leverage here. But that doesn’t really matter to you—you’re getting what you want, one way or another.
Right?
“Voìk si, little one [behave].” Ralak hisses, fighting the inner conflict within him.
“Haa—” Your laugh that follows is a little sinister, open mouthed and smug. Hands pressing into the wall you push off its surface, sinking him deeper inside you. “No.”
“Alright.” His voice is husky, thick with confidence and temperance.
With a rough, quick tug, his cock slips out of you with a squelch, hanging freely between his legs. Your slick mixed with his precum slowly dribbling off his tip and onto the floor between your pointed feet. You fall to the flat of your feet, panting and whining from the sudden emptiness.
“W-Wait.” You squeak, hastily getting back on the tips of your toes to stuff him inside you again. “Please.”
“What was that?” Ralak asks, voiced feigned with innocence. “A little louder.”
“Please.” You barely whisper, backing up on him.
“Come now, tanhì.” His hand slips from your hip to grip his cock. Giving it a few strokes he teases your cunt with his cockhead and you instinctively shimmy down. Hips snapping back to prevent you from taking him inside, he dips his head so his mouth is next to your ear and husks, “You can do better than that.”
“Please!” You moan loudly in desperation, reaching down to your knees to unfetter yourself from your tewng [loincloth].
“Please, what?” Ralak spits the last word through pursed lips, ready to give you exactly what you want if you just ask for it nicely.
“Please put it back inside.” You beg pathetically, finally getting the knot of your tewng undone. “Please, fuck me.”
“Ahh, there’s my good girl.” Ralak praises you with a grin, sinking his cock into your warmth at a leisurely pace. His breathing stutters for every inch that penetrates you. “Was that so hard?”
“Fuck.” You moan in relief, spreading your legs wider. He’s tamed you and he knows it. “No.”
“No…?” Ralak says it like a question, hissing when he bottoms out in your cunt.
“No, karyu.” You answer coyly, voice faltering from the pressure of his cockhead pushing into your cervix.
“Agh—haah” Ralak lets out a gruff grunt in response, his hips now snapping back and forth out of his control. He’s huffing and puffing next to your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you in a frenzy of need. Swollen balls repeatedly slapping against your clit, it’s almost impossible to hold back the gurgled noises escaping your throat.
“Fuck—so—fuckin’—deep—fuck.” The curses are punched out of you as he relentlessly smacks into you again and again.
“Lì’fyaz [language.]” Ralak chides in a growl, hand slipping down to pull back the hood of your clit—taut.
The continuous sting of your clit has your legs shaking and the way his cockhead is repeatedly stimulating your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s almost too much all at once yet you yearn for more. Your cunt clamps down around him, especially when the tension becomes so tight you feel your stomach double-knot. Ralak hums when you tighten around him, only making him rut harder into you.
Pulling back, he glances down at you sucking him in, your tail curled tight to your back and his cock plunging in and out of your pussy. He can see just how tight you are as your pussy walls grip his girth mercilessly. And with the protective hand on your abdomen, he can feel each thrust against the palm of his hand. It makes his chest swell with pride—
You carry his child yet still take him so well.
“Oeÿa tsantu [my good girl]” Ralak slips into his native tongue, panting in an accent as thick as tree sap. “Oeÿa numeyutsyìp [my little student]”
Ralaks cock heats up inside you, heating your core along with it. It’s the same familiar sensation you feel before he provides you with your release. The feeling that keeps your eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. He knows your close and slows his thrusts like he usually does, fucking you a little harder rather than faster, angling his pelvis so he’s right in your swelling g-spot.
Your hands fly behind you, grasping at whatever’s available as your orgasm washes through you. You gush all over your thighs, cum dribbling down your legs to your feet, some spattering on Ralak as he fucks and holds you through your high. It’s sudden and uncontrollable, leaving you sputtering out nonsense and your legs shaking violently beneath you.
“There it is. Good muntxate [wife].” Ralak huffs with a smirk, relishing in the quick, feverish flutter of your cunt on his cock. His voice is shaky from his uneven rhythm now that he can finally allow himself to finish too. “Love—hng—when you cum for me, you—ahh, haah—know that?”
He begins grinding to you, shoving you further into the wall as he focuses on his own climax. He uses his feet to kick your legs closed, and pulls out of you, stuffing himself between your thighs. He’s groaning and growling, hunched over you with bent knees and flushed, flattened ears. Skin slapping against skin, he humps at your thighs, thick cock sliding back and forth over your still pulsing clit.
His cockhead continuously pokes out between your folds, tip oozing and oozing with precum. Both his hands fly to your hips, gripping them with force as his thrusts become almost violent. You struggle to keep yourself standing as his hips smack into you repeatedly, your body jolting with each thrust. He gives you one last, harsh thrust, holding you still against him as you feel his cock throb wildly between your thighs. You look down to see his huge load shoot out in thick, white ropes. He’s grumbling behind you, giving your thighs an extra few uncontrollable thrusts as he peaks in his high.
Finally you fall to the flat of your feet, his arms instantly snaking around your waist to support your weight entirely.
“I told you no taunting, tanhì.” He’s referring to the time he opened up about his first rut, “Next time, you ask nicely. Tslam? [Understand?]” Ralak says breathlessly.
“Sran, oeÿa karyu. tslolam. [Yes, my teacher. I understand].” You blubber, fucked out and jaded.
——
#ralak#ralak smut#avatar smut#awow smut#metkayina#metkayina smut#metkayina oc#oc smut#avatar oc smut#awow oc smut#sully reader#sully reader x oc#oc x sully reader#oc x sully reader smut#na'vi smut#na'vi x reader#na'vi x sully reader#na'vi avatar#smut#metkayina x omaticaya#metkayina x omaticaya smut#metkayina x fem reader#ralak x y/n#ralak x reader#ralak x you#pregnancy smut#na'vi pregnancy#na'vi pregnant#ralak pregnant#avatar pregnancy
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𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 ♡
Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist
summary: You’re up late at night, alone and touch starved, when you get a phone call from the man you miss the most.
word count: 3.3k
warning/tag: Smut (18+, mdni!) Language. Fluff and a little angst. Mutual masturbation (phone sex). Reader is wearing one of Simon's shirts. Mention of cunnilingus, tit sucking, unprotected p in v with creampie, implied breeding kink on Simon’s side. Use of ‘good girl’.
"Girl, you know I miss you, I just wanna kiss you
But I can't right now
So baby kiss me through the phone”
Simon is away again and holy fuck how you miss him. Every moment feels incomplete without him by your side. The distance between you seems unbearable at times, and the ache in your heart grows with each passing day.
As you are lying in bed, wearing his t-shirt, thoughts of him consume your mind. The soft fabric against your skin carries his scent, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You imagine his smile, a smile so few people get to witness, but you are one of the few lucky ones who he let see it, you imagine his laughter. The warmth and security you feel whenever he holds you tight in his strong arms. As you replay cherished memories in your head, the longing intensifies, turning into a thumping pain in your chest, but it also brings you a sense of cathartic comfort.
If you just could call him it’ll be easier, but you can’t, you understand the need for secrecy and the importance of protecting his mission. You just have to be patient and wait till he can call you.
Now every time you hear a phone ring, your heart skips a beat. When it’s your own phone you find yourself hoping that it’s Simon on the other end, ready to reassure you that he is alright and that your fears are unfounded. But at the same time, there’s always a tinge of fear, a nagging worry that the call might bring news that your worst nightmare has come true.
And, as if on cue, as you lay and think about these things, the sound of your phone breaks through the silence, causing your heart to skip a beat.
Your heart races, and you can’t help but wonder if it could be Simon. With trembling hands, you reach for the device, hoping beyond hope that it’s him. You glance at the screen and can’t see any number, it is an encrypted line, and a surge of emotions overwhelms you.
Heart pounding with a mix of anticipation, excitement and fear, you answer the call. “Hello?”
“Hi, love,” Simon’s gruff voice comes through the phone. He sounds knackered, but definitely alive. His voice crackles through the line, but the sound of it instantly soothes your worries.
Relief floods over you, and tears well up in your eyes. “Hi, Si,” you greet him, trying to keep your emotions somewhat in check so you don’t use the precious time you get to talk to him bawling your eyes out.
“I didn’t wake you did I?” His deep voice, laced with concern.
“No, you didn’t,” you reassure him, not that you would have given a damn if he had, you’re just happy to hear his voice, alive and well.
“Well, you should be sleeping, I hope you’re taking care of yourself, love,” Simon says, his voice filled with genuine concern. “How have you been holding up?”
A mix of emotions floods over you at his question. You appreciate his thoughtfulness, knowing that despite the dangers he faces, he still worries about your well-being. But at the same time, you don’t want to burden him with your own struggles and fears.
“Well, you know me, I’ve been managing,” you reply, trying to sound strong. Afterall, he is the one who is facing danger and dodging bullets, not you. “Just looking forward to having you back.”
Simon laughs softly, his deep voice filled with warmth. “I look forward to that too, love. But I promise, I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll have a proper cuppa together in no time, I’ll make sure we don’t have to deal with any of this long-distance rubbish for a while.”
You can’t help but smile, a mix of love and longing in your heart. “I’ll hold you to that, I’ll keep the kettle ready. And I’ll make sure to get some proper biscuits this time.”
You had bought some fancy biscuits with rosemary and bergamot once, and Simon had absolutely hated them. Not that he had expressed it like that; he had been very polite about it, carefully trying to mask his distaste for the treats. However, you could see right through him. You had run down to the corner shop under your flat and bought some milk choc hobnobs, cause despite looking like a big scary bloke your boyfriend has the tastebuds of a child.
“That sounds good,” Simon says, a longing sigh coming through the phone.
The simple thought of sharing a cup of tea with Simon brings a smile to your face. It’s the simple moments like those that you cherish the most, the moments of normalcy amidst the chaos that his career brings. But it also makes you miss other things to do with Simon.
“Yeah, it does,” you agree, as your heart yearns for him you let a short silence unfold between you before you continue, your voice now sounding a little lower and more breathy. “I miss you, Simon.”
There is a brief pause before Simon responds, his voice filled with a mix of longing and determination, and holy fuck how you love that voice. You feel heat creep up your cheeks, at the sound, warmth pooling in your stomach, spreading through your body like a wildfire with longing for him. “I miss you too, love. Can’t wait to hold you again.”
A surge of anticipation courses through you, and you can’t help but let your voice drop to a sultry whisper. “Yeah, I look forward to that.”
Simon’s voice takes on a husky tone as he reads your switch in mood. “Consider it a guarantee, love. When I get back, I’ll make it up to you, show you just how much I’ve missed you, okay?”
“Mmm.” You hum to let him know that you are hearing him, but it comes out closer to a moan really.
A brief silence hangs in the air between you before you break the silence again.
“Si…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m wearing your shirt,” you confess, the words escaping your lips with a mix of vulnerability and desire.
There is a short pause between you, one that feels way longer than it actually is, before Simon finally says something. “Which one, darling?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity and anticipation, as if he can already picture you wearing it.
“Your Zeppelin one,” you confess.
You can hear how Simon’s breath quickens on the other end of the line, becoming more throaty and shallow. His voice, when he finally speaks, is filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness.
“Yeah?” he responds, his tone laced with anticipation.
“Yeah, it smells like you,” you whisper down the phone. “I just miss you so much.”
There’s a moment of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, Simon replies, his voice filled with the same desire that echoes within you. “Believe me, love, the feeling is mutual.”
His words carry a warmth that wraps around you, bridging the physical distance between you both. It also makes a warm sensation swoop through your stomach, and you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together as you begin to feel a warm throbbing between your legs.
“I wish you were here,” you say, meaning it from the bottom of your heart.
Simon lets out a low chuckle, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Yeah, me too, love, you have no idea. But I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”
Squirming slightly in your seat by his words, the warm throbbing of your cunt increases. You take a deep breath grabbing the fabric of his shirt to bring it up to your nose, the scent of him lingers, providing a sense of comfort and reassurance but also making you miss having him close so much more, making you crave it.
“Are you alone?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
“Yes.”
“Wanna tell me what you’re going to do to me when you come home?” You feel a swoop of anticipation run through you as you ask him.
The sound of Simon swallowing audibly comes through the phone, his voice filled with anticipation.
You put your phone on speaker, placing it on a pillow beside you.
“I’d take my time with you,” his voice crackles through the speaker, deep and raspy. “I’d start by kissing that sweet mouth of yours. I’d drink up all those little moans you always make for me. You have no idea how much they turn me on. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I hear them, making me so fucking hard, baby. and I’ll have to get up to rub one out.”
And as if on cue you let out a whiny moan as you imagine him in his tactical trousers, the imposing bulge of his hard-on restrained against the fabric, how his big hand will squeeze it though the garment.
“Yes, baby, just like that,” he says with a sound that you think was supposed to be a laugh but ends up sounding more like a throaty groan. You hear the clang of metal through the phone, like a belt being unbuckled.
“I’d kiss you until we are both out of breath, until we would have to break apart, maybe even a little longer. Fuck, miss kissing you so much, lovie.”
“Miss that too,” you whimper, your hands now on your breasts, softly squeezing them through the soft cotton of Simon’s shirt as you rub your thighs together, feeling how the throbbing of your cunt reaches a whole new high, your panties getting more and more damp.
“I’d start going down, kiss your jaw and down your neck,” Simon continues.
Your breath hitches, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You can almost feel how your skin tingles in the places Simon describes kissing.
“I’d keep going down, kiss you everywhere, love. Let myself taste just how sweet that body of yours is,” he groans softly.
As his words reach your ears, a vivid image takes shape in your mind. You can picture the way he would hold you. How he would slowly trace every contour, every curve, as he maps out your skin with his lips and tongue, savouring the taste and texture of your skin, leaving a trail of desire in his wake.
“I’d take those pretty tits in my mouth, give them the attention they deserve.”
You let out a little squeal as you imagine his tongue around your nipples, licking and sucking at your sensitive nubs.
“Then I’d have you laid back on the bed, all naked and spread out for me. I’d get between your thighs and eat that sweet pussy out just how I know you like it, wouldn’t stop until you’ve gushed all over my face.”
The thought alone sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself instinctively responding to the memory. You can feel the weight of his touch, the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your head tilts back, lost in the sensations that flood your imagination. The mere thought of his touch elicits a tantalising twitch of pleasure through your body, a physical manifestation of the connection you share.
You let your legs part, spreading them wide on the soft mattress, and you let your non-dominant hand creep down the soft fabric of the Simon’s shirt, continuing lower until you reach the hem of the garment and slides it up under the shirt, slowly tracing your fingers up over the warm skin of your naked abdomen and up through the valley of your tits, until you cup your breast again, this time without the barrier of the shirt, gently squeezing at the soft flesh before you start playing with your hardened nipple. Your dominant hand is wandering down to your panties, the pads of your fingers gently tracing a line over the now soaked fabric. You haven’t been this wet in a while, at least not since Simon left for deployment.
Through the speakers of your phone, you hear him curse softly, his voice filled with a mix of longing and frustration. The distance between you feels unbearable, as the desire to be together intensifies with each passing moment. As you close your eyes, your imagination takes flight, allowing you to indulge in the sweet memories of your bodies entwined. The anticipation builds, fueling the fire within.
Now feeling so damned desperate you dip your hand into your panties, slowly sliding your fingers through your wet folds, coating them with your arousal, before you start to, oh so slowly, circling around your clit.
“I’d let myself drown in that sweet, sweet pussy of yours. Sweetest, fucking thing I’ve ever had. I can still taste it whenever I think about it,” he continues. His tone is damn near dangerous, so low and growly. You almost cum from the thought alone, the thought of being completely at his mercy. “What about you, love? What would you do with me if I was there?” He coaxes you.
“I’d let you have me however you want me. I miss having you inside me so bad, Si,” You admit with a whimper.
“Oh, missing my cock that much, lovie?” he teases, but there is a tenderness and a longing hidden behind his words.
“Mmm.” You nod even though he can’t see it. “I miss all of you, Si.”
The sounds of him pumping himself is now audible through the phone. The sound is making you even more desperate to have him back. You can’t help but imagine him, his big fist sliding up and down that big girthy cock of his, the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, throbbing and dripping with precum, just for you.
“Fu-uuck, what I wouldn’t give to be inside you right now, sweetheart.” he almost growls, making you whimper. “I’d make you feel so good, baby. Turn you into a babbling cock drunk mess.” Simon’s voice grows huskier, filled with primal desire. “I’d fill you up so good, again and again until you you’d be fucking dripping, with my cum.” He growls down the phone. “Fill you up and give you a piece of me to carry, a piece of me you could have forever. Fu-uuck, and everyone would know that I’m yours, that we belong together.”
A soft moan escapes your mouth as you imagine the scenario he’s describing. Your fingers now moving in fast tight circles around your sensitive clit.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me, huh, love?” His voice, dripping with hunger and desperation, and you whine out for him, giving him those sweet sounds that you know makes him go feral.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Fuuck, doing so good for me.”
A hot shiver runs up your spine at the praise. You remove your fingers from your clit, instead sliding them down a little further, making your panties push down your hips to instead dwell around your thighs. You drag your fingers through your slick folds, collecting your wetness before you slide first one then two fingers inside of your pussy. You bring your other hand, that until now had occupied your sensitive nipples, down to your clit, flickering the sensitive nub while you pump into yourself wishing that it was Simon’s skilled fingers or girthy cock that was thrusting into you instead. His name starts spilling from your lips in a line of whiny moans.
“You sound so fuckin’ pretty,” he sounds like he is as close to ecstasy as you are, his voice low and breathy. “Are you close, baby?”
“Ye-yeah, so close, Si,” you pant. The slick sound of your fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt ring in your ears and you know that Simon must be able to hear it over the phone.
“I’m close too, love. Can you cum for me, sweetheart? We can cum together. Imagine me filling up that sweet little pussy, have you dripping with my cum, yeah?”
“Yes, Simon, want that so bad,” you moan, “Fu-uck, I’m so close, Si.”
“That’s good. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart,” he groans. “Come on, baby, cum with me.”
You moan out his name as your walls clench around your fingers, your other hand flicking over your clit in a fast steady rhythm as you feel how the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps, your orgasm rushing through you in hot, blissful waves as you fuck yourself through your high. You can hear Simon’s throaty moans coming over the phone, cursing and panting under his breath as you both ride out your climaxes.
Your walls flutter around your fingers as you slowly come down from your high. Aftershocks are still pumping through your cunt as you slowly pull your soaked fingers out, wiping them off on the sheets. You’ll change them in the morning, but right now you can’t be bothered.
You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Simon’s voice crackles through the phone again. “How do you feel?”
“I’m good, Si, really good, just wished you were here to feel good with me.” You grab the phone, turning it off speaker again and bringing it up to your ear. You lay yourself down on your side, curling up on yourself as you let your body sink into the soft mattress. You pull the duvet over you, suddenly feeling very tired and alone, wishing that Simon was there to cuddle with you.
“Yeah, I’d like that too.” His voice sounds much softer now.
A little silence falls over you, the both of you needing to land again and you both feel the other’s absence all the more now, but you don’t want to stop talking with Simon, not when you finally can, but you also know that he only has limited time for phone calls. You just have to stay strong until you finally have him back again.
“Si?”
“Yes, love?” Simon responds, his deep voice gentle and reassuring.
“Come back to me safe?” you plead, the weight of worry evident in your words.
A small pause follows. Then, Simon’s voice breaks through, filled with determination and devotion. “Love, I’ll come crawling back to you if I have to.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, the intensity of Simon’s promise sinking into your heart. Tears well up in your eyes as you whisper, “I don’t know what I would do without you, Simon.” The vulnerability in your voice echoes the depth of your emotions, the fear of losing him almost too much to bear.
Simon’s voice softens, filled with tenderness as he responds, “You won’t have to find out, love.”
Though you still worry about him, you let his words offer you solace for now.
“It’s getting late,” Simon’s voice comes through with a hint of playfulness. “I think it’s time for you to get some beauty sleep.”
You can’t help but let out a tired giggle at his teasing tone, despite your worry for him, feeling the warmth of his affection even through the phone. “Oh, so you think I need beauty sleep, huh?” you reply, a mischievous twinkle in your voice.
Simon chuckles softly. “Well, only because you’re already the most beautiful person I know, and I want you to wake up even more radiant tomorrow.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, lieutenant Riley,” you say, a playful lilt in your voice and he chuckles softly at your remark. “Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?” you ask softly, a gentle plea in your voice.
“Of course, love,” Simon replies, his words full of unwavering devotion. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need me.”
A sense of comfort washes over you, knowing that even when miles apart, Simon is there for you. The ache in your heart is still there, but it’s overshadowed by the knowledge that Simon is safe, for now.
Closing your eyes, you listen to the steady sound of his breathing, a reminder of his presence and the love that binds you together. In this moment, sleep comes easier, your worries momentarily eased by the knowledge that you are not alone.
As you drift off into dreams, you hold onto the promise that soon you will be reunited, and the ache in your heart will be replaced with the joy of being in Simon’s arms once again.
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