simon ‘ghost’ riley is the only one who will stick up for price’s beloved secretary
(part two, part three)
Is it hard working as one of the only female members on the base?
The simple answer is yes, it’s incredibly difficult.
Even though your job may not appear the hardest, especially compared to soldiers that put their own lives at risk, everything else is hard.
The catcalling, not being taken seriously, undermined by soldiers who don’t know their left from their rights, and the pure exhaustion of being left to clean up the captains mistakes.
You’d never really reported anything, seeing that the people you’re supposed to tell— are in fact the perpetrators.
But then one incident got the attention of other soldiers, most specifically, Lieutenant Simon ‘ghost’ Riley.
Before then, Simon had never paid a whole lot of attention to you. Sure you were a looker, but anybody could see that.
You did your job well, and that’s all he cared about.
He also hadn’t seen how other people treat you, and wasn’t aware of it. God knows they would get yelled at if he did.
And one day, he was casually walking through the hallway— intimidating to everybody who dared to look— nothing was out of the ordinary, until he turned that corner.
Simon was met with the sight of you, a terrified younger woman, being crowded by at least 3 lower ranked soldiers. Your eyes were wide, likely with fear, and the men were creeping closer as you tried to walk away.
It looked like something that would’ve turned ugly if Simon didn’t pass when he did, and obviously he intervened.
“Oi! What d’you lot think yur doing?”
His voice was gruff, with the accent and also how deep it sounded anyway,
Your eyebrows raised in complete surprise, and you flinched ever so slightly. Nobody had chosen to say something about the behaviour shown towards you before.. you weren’t exactly sure how to react.
Immediately, the soldiers straighten up and turn to their superior,
“Uh, nothing sir! Just askin the lady a question..” one of them speaks up, but regrets the words as soon as he sees Simon’s eyes.
The mask mostly covered his expression, but his eyes said everything.
“You sure ‘bout that? Why don’t I ask her, hm?”
He turned to you, and even you found yourself straightening your back, and then fixing your blouse which had been slightly adjusted out of place.
“Y/LN.. were these idiots disturbing you?”
You hesitated for one moment , which already gave him a good enough answer. But then you gave a small nod, and a few of the soldiers either groaned or rolled their eyes dismissively.
Simon then crossed his arms over his chest, taking a step closer to loom over the soldiers.
“That’s all I need to see.. now get out of here ‘fore I call Price.”
They all scrambled off, and Simon’s attention turned to you.
You were truly shaken, hands trembling ever so slightly, but you were trying your best to stay still.
And it was obvious, so Simon could tell.
He took a second to analyse your state, none of your clothes were disheveled or out of place, so at least they didn’t go too far.
But in Simon’s mind, even approaching you in that sort of style wasn’t okay in the slightest.
“You alrigh’?” His tone was more casual, as to hopefully not cause you anymore stress.
You didn’t reply at first, instead taking a nervous glance up at him. Then you nodded, and before you knew it— words were spilling out.
“Thank you Simon.. god, i do not know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t seen that— seriously, thank you.” You don’t get the chance to say anything more. Simon places his large, gloved hand on your shoulder and turns your stance to face him.
“Don’t thank me, any good man would do that.”
His gruff tone would sound like he was saying something harsh to you if anybody else heard, but youd knew him long enough to understand that he really did mean that.
A light flush painted your cheeks, and you had to internally remind yourself that this was absolutely not the time— and you’d almost just been assaulted.
But, god, Simon just seems to know exactly the right thing to say to have any woman squirming.
You didnt get the chance to say anything back, since Captain Price’s deep voice suddenly boomed though the corridor, calling a random emergency meeting.
So Simon parted ways, and left you there feeling a mixture of relief, embarrassment and now things you never thought you feel about him.. of all people.
Tags: NSFW, Stripper, strip club, swearing, use of pet name (Baby, love), frank begging, softdom reader, virgin Frank, oral sex ( giving )
A/N: WHY IS THERE BARELY ANYTHING FOR HIM?! My first time writing him so bear with me. Please tell me if there are any errors.
Pt2? let me know!
The music was loud overhead, the sound of heels clicking on wood was even louder. There were strippers and lonely men everywhere, the bar, booths, the small rooms with the curtains and the sound of moaning could be heard from the back.
And in the middle of the club in a purple, sparkling bikini and six inch clear heels with a silver gun as the heel was you.
You made your usual rounds around the club, stealing glances of your friends and checking in with a few lone men.
Your heels clicked on the floor as you rounded the corner to a table of men. Drunk, unsteady and clearly the entitled type.
“Aye, come here.” one of the drunk man said, waving you over.
Mentally you were rolling your eyes but as part of your job you went over anyways.
They wanted the usual, a show so that’s what you gave them but not before they paid you a hundred.
Once the transaction was made and the bill was secure on the strip of your bikini did you begin to move your body. Your hands moved with practiced ease down your body, hands exploring, your breast, your slim waist, and down your long legs.
You let yourself get lost in the music, focusing on it instead of the drunk and entitled men in front of you.
You turned so your back was to them and bend over, showing off your long legs and giving them a sneak peak at your cleanly shaved cunt that was hidden behind your bikini bottoms.
As you shook your ass in their direction, something or rather someone caught your eye.
A man was sitting at the bar watching you, which wasn’t what caught your eye.
He was dressed in a dark grey suit, white button up with brown scuffed boots. But again that’s not what caught you, it was the black cloth like scarf that hid his lower face from view and the line of stitches across his forehead.
He also wasn’t looking at you like you were a piece of meat or with lust. He looked at you like you were an actually person, he looked at you like you were…beautiful. There was also a look of sadness that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
You finished your dance, keeping slight eye contact with him, not really even sparing a glance at the men as you made your way over to him.
When he saw you approach, it was like his body went still and he immediately ducked his head. He looked ashamed, no he almost looked scared.
“Hey, love. What your name?” you said, tilting your head slightly to try to catch his gaze but he only ducked his head farther.
It was quiet for a long moment as you stared at him, “Frank..” he said quietly that you almost didn’t hear him over the sound of the club.
“M’sorry…i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or stare… I’m sorry.” he quickly added
“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” you told him, that seductive voice that you used for your clients slipping just a fraction.
“You mustn’t look at me. I am a monster and pitiful.” he added, stealing a small glance at you before hanging his head.
“You don’t look like a monster. And i don’t your think that you’re pitiful maybe just lonely.” You told him, raising your hand to his shoulder. You immediately felt him tense before slowly leaning into your touch like a broken animal finally getting some kindness.
Thats when you did something that you’ve never done before. You reached down to grab his hand, feeling the calloused and rough skin, pulling him out of the stool and towards the back of the club.
Not to a booth or one of the small rooms with just a curtain for privacy. To the back of the club where there was a heavy door that insured that there would be no interruptions.
You locked the door behind both you, sitting him down on the plush couch, watching the way his eyes looked back at yours with confusion.
You then stood before him, hands starting to move on yourself as you started to dance for him. And piece by piece you stripped down for him, which didn’t take very long since you were already almost nude.
You got down on your hands and knees, crawling over to him, keeping your eyes locked on his even as you sat between his spread knees.
“I…I don’t deserve this. I didn’t pay farther more I am nothing but a monster that people run from.”
“It’s on the house,” you said, keeping your eyes looked on his, “You look like you need this.”
He kept quiet for a long moments before finally, “Please..”
“Please what, baby? tell me what you want.”
“I…I want you. I want to be with you but…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he says, his head hanging once more, avoiding your eyes. You assumed that he had been rejected so much that he just learned to expect it even after all of this.
You looked down at his crotch, seeing his hands covering it like he was ashamed of his desire. This poor man, you thought.
“Then let me give you what you want.” you told him, your hand coming up to remove his from his crotch, his boner immediately coming into view.
He didn’t looked giant but he definitely wasn’t small. He looked a little above average.
You lifted you hand further to his belt, looking up at him for permission which he gave after a moment. You unbuckled him and pulled his slacks down, just enough to pull his cock out.
You were correct, definitely above average, thick and veiny. You felt yourself clench around nothing, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Nothing amused you like this anymore but this, him, he was different.
You wrapped a hand around him, already feeling the drizzle of pre cum smear on your fist. You stroked him once, stopping at the tip and rubbing your thumb slowly over the slit.
You then looked back at him. His eyes were focused on you, searching for any signs of disgust or discomfort but there were none in your eyes.
“You ever done this before?” you asked him. He looked confused for a moment before shaking his head.
“Anyone put their mouth on you?”
he shook his head.
“Ever been inside someone?”
He shook his head once more.
These were questions you asked every client before you put your mouth on them. It wasn’t in the club rules to do this but you’d be damed if you caught something and you knew how unkept and dirty some men could be.
And clients that were desperate enough, you told them to go wash off in the small bathroom which they did with little to no questions.
“Good.” you said, flashing him a soft smile before leaning down and taking him into your mouth, having to open your mouth bigger than usual to accommodate how thick he was.
You sucked him off, wrapping your tongue around him, dragging it up his length which earned a loud whimper for him. He was vocal, something you loved in men.
You looked at him through the veil of your lashes, his mouth was ajar and his hazel depths were heavy lidded but focused on you like you were the only thing in the world.
Once again you felt yourself clench around nothing, looking back down and seeing the way his hands clutched the fabric of the couch, knuckles turning white.
This again surprised you. Most men would either be holding you down or pulling your hair but not him.
“Ca-can I touch y-you please? I’ll be good.” he muttered, the pleasure he was feeling clear by the way his voice had changed. Broken, shaky and breathless.
You hummed in response and with some hesitation, you felt his large hand rest on your cheek. It wasn’t rough, or demanding. It was gentle and sweet, like he was still scared even with permission.
A loud whimper escaped his lips that made you look up at him again, he was crying. Real tears. You didn’t know if it was because he was a virgin or something else but you didn’t question him.
After 7 years Alastor finally reaches out and this was Voxs response 
Vox was seeing Val the whole time that Al was away and thought that Alastor left to go be a whore or something (that’s what Val’s been feeding him to believe) but in reality Al was being tortured and used by Lilith and escaped to go back to Vox only to get this reaction which leads him to go back to Lilith since he sees no point in leaving anymore.
Vox still thinks he’s running the streets and Val got his money wallet without a pesky deer to bother them anymore!
(Until Vel did some digging about all of this and found out //everything//)
Jesper didn’t know when the novice demo man became his whole universe; His moon, his stars, his nebula. All in one small auburn haired boy. He didn’t know when the universe walked into his life. He didn’t know when things stopped seeming so daunting as long as smaller slender hands were wrapped in his. When small shoulders brushed his and when the smell of chemicals became as home as that farm in the middle of the fields.
No, Jesper didn't know when Wylan became a part of him.
But he certainly knew when he was no longer there.
The wound still stung. It was open for all to see and this wasn't one that could be healed by a night at the tables and a bottle of his favorite alcohol resting in his hand. This wound ran deeper, carving away the very base of his being. This would stung more than any knife would or broken nose.
Wylan had nested in Jespers very heart and took some of it when he flew away.
The Zemeni boy closed his eyes, praying, no begging to the saints above that when his eyes opened he would turn to the side, his eyes would drift across their shared room. He prayed that his eyes would land on the merching, no, HIS merchling. But alas the saints above had no such pity for him.
His eyes opened and he was greeted with the dark red booth where he rested his tired legs. Taking a strong swig from the bottle with an unnamed alcohol within he willed his legs to carry him out of the bustling room. Stumbling Jesper took note of how the cold air nipped at his ears. Winter in Ketterdam was cold and unforgiving and in his haste to get away from that manor he forgot his coat. Just his luck.
“Saints it's cold” The lanky teen murmured to nobody in particular
Making his way down the familiar winding streets and alleyways Jesper’s feet carried him to the slat. Making his way through the familiar building he prayed his room remained the same. Perhaps he could land within the stiff bed and he would wake and none of it will have ever happened. No pretty merchling, no heist, no van eck. None of it. He would wake and everything will be an astonishingly realistic dream.
As he pushed open the worn door he practically deflated in relief, his bed, as ratty and old as ever was still there and everything was just as he had left it. As the door shut behind him he felt the weight of everything come crashing down. Stumbling to the bed he prayed he would fall into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness and he would not have to face reality. Just not quite yet he wasn't ready.
— - - - - - - - -
Jesper wasn't entirely sure what pulled him from his sleep but he was sure that his head was utterly throbbing. Groaning, he rolled over in the small bed that hardly qualified as a cot and buried his face in the flat pillow. Inhaling the zemeni boy had a startling realization that the pillow smelled of him. Arrogantly he had hoped that everything had been a dream. That he could forget the loss of the night before. However, the startling realization that Wylan was everywhere. His whole being and everything encompassing him was here. In this room, it stuck to his skin like soot and gunpowder.
Forcing himself to pull away from the comfort he found he looked around the dingy room.
Suddenly a loud bang resounding from downstairs forced him to his feet quicker than he was prepared for. Shaking the dizziness from his head Jesper grabbed his holsters from his place where he must have discarded them on the table beside his bed, the weight of them resting on his hips gave a sense of security. Jesper took a brief note of the midday sun that lingered in his peripheral vision, he must have slept through the morning.
Daylight ment that Kaz would be in the club somewhere. Itching for something to occupy his hands, Jesper picked up a coin from the dresser. Forcing down the emotion at the thought that he had used a similar coin to craft his merchling a key to this very room down he flipped it through his fingers before setting his way out of the room.
As he made his way down the crooked staircase he paused a familiar voice sounding out through the club he forced himself to the wall.
“You're saying you don't know where he is”' Kaz's voice was gruff as always.
“No i don't, I didn't see him show up last night” The barkeep was defensive.
“Your useless” Kaz is as brutal as always.
Taking a deep breath, Jesper made his way down the final stairs into the main room of the building. His eyes landed on Kaz Brekker, the bastard of the barrel, dirty hands, and Jesper’s bestest of friends.
“Are you looking for me?” he inquired with a raised brow and a playful smirk
“Where were you, Wylan said you disappeared last night” Kaz’s voice was rough and demanding. Jesper forced his face into neutrality before he thought too hard about Wylan.
“What, can’t I enjoy the pleasures the barrel has to offer” Jesper deflected
“Jesper, You haven't been to the barrel to enjoy the pleasures in months”
“Keeping tabs on me are you brekker, its okay, you can admit you care about me” Jesper teased
“You're a valuable asset” Kaz didn't miss a beat. The boy's dark eyes flicked over jesper in an overly critical way. It made jesper uncomfortable, Kaz always seemed to know more about Jesper than he did himself. “Plus I have a job for you”
Jesper perked up at the mention of something to do , he could use the work; it was the only thing other than gambling that kept him active. And blissfully numb.
“What kind of job?” he inquired. His mind was already racing 100 miles an hour.
“A wealthy merchant has been trying to buy out the clubs and pleasure houses. He is bad for business and I have set up a meeting. The meeting is cover, you and Inej will break into his house and steal a few documents from him” Kaz was as unexpressive as ever. Jesper could tell he was leaving details out but he was too giddy with excitement to care.
“Okay, when do we leave”
“You have two hours to prepare yourself, and jesper.” Kaz paused briefly as jesper turned to face him “i need you not distracted, Got it?” Jesper nodded before making his way out of the building, a budding smirk building on his features.
—- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - —-
As jesper made his way to the meeting point where he would see Inej his mind drifted. Landing unfortunately back on the merchling whom he carried heavy in his heart. He knew the words he spoke from the previous night had been unfair and cruel but he couldn't help it. Wylan had been working all week and Jesper selfishly missed him. He hadn't meant to annoy the boy but he supposed he had that unique ability.
Jesper’s eyes lifted from where they rested on the revolvers he had been cleaning. He took in the shorter boy's presence with a small smile. “Welcome home” He greeted. His greeting was met with a non committal humm. His brows furrowing jesper carefully set his precious revolver down on the coffee table as his long legs carried him over to the boy who was turned away from him, organizing his bag. “You okay?” Jesper asked quietly as he touched the smaller boys shoulder. Flinching wylan has dropped the stack of papers he was holding.
“God jesper can you give me two seconds of space ever?” The redhead had snapped suddenly, his eyes flicked angrily over to the zemeni boy as if demanding an answer.
“Sorry i didn't mean to spook you”’ Jesper was quiet, silently he prayed for an apology.
“Of course not, you just can't stand to leave me alone for two seconds. God I can't ever catch a break” Wylans tone was cruel, almost mocking.
“Hey, I get that you had a bad day but that's not my fault I dont deserve for you to take it out on me” Jesper defended himself
“Of course not” Wyalns tone was snarky and sarcastic.
“Your unbelievable” Jesper could feel his rising temper.
“Oh? Im unbelievable, at least I know when to leave you alone, At least i dont need constant reassurance. At least i can go two fucking seconds without being annoying” Wylans voice began to raise.
“Your being unfair. This is not my fault.” Jesper was trying really hard to be understanding of the young merch’s exhaustion but he was getting fed up.
“Yea nothing seems to be your fault” The redhead mumbled
“God you're being so rude right now, this isn't fair. I bend over backwards to give you space, read for you, help you when you need it and you don't see me being an ass about it.” Jespers voice raised as well
“Nobody is forcing you to stay here” Wylan hissed out.
“Your right they aren't” Jesper stated as he turned around. Quickly gathering his things he turned to look back at the merchling. Wylan simply gave him an unamused look with a small shake of his head.
“Go on then, and don't bother coming back”.
And jesper did. He didn't wait to hear anything else as he stormed out of the house and into the streets of The Barrel. Him and Wylan were at odds again. He supposed it was perhaps for the best. A supernova as pretty and bright as it appeared was still a violent explosion.
Jesper failed to realize that he was to his destination before his body collided with a familiar redhead.
“Jesper?”
“Wylan?”
I hope you enjoyed, this was def rushed but I was lining to hoizer so that was cool and this was born, reblogs are appreciated and comments. lmk if you want a part two.
As an older I have to say; I saw your post about you trying 🍆 and my response is, it doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not still because virginity is a social construct that is more often than not used in a perverse way to value women off their sexual history. You are you, you are valid, and you’ve had the experiences that you’ve had ❤️
(New guy sounds great, knows how to take care of ya! 😉)
thank you love💕💕💕 AND YALL HIS MESSAGE WAS A MANIFESTATION. tell me why I read this after I just got dicked the dicked down, slurped the slurped up, fucked the fucked up, took to poundtown. MY MAN REALLLLY KNOW HOW TO FUCK FRRRR. anywayss lemme stop and make a ramble post of how it happened!!!!! and you are so right !!!💕💕🫦
shes here. the big boy. this took me like a week to do. nobody asked for this. you’re welcome.
Techno, for the most part, couldn't give less of a damn what he looked like. He was a warrior, a fighter who didn't need to look pretty or have perfect, unbroken skin. He already knew he was different, his hooven feet, his large, down pointed ears and unnaturally coloured hair all served as reminders of that indisputable fact. Throughout his life Techno had been in far too many fights to count, collecting scars as though they were trophies. Today, however, they didn't feel like trophies. Today they seemed to weigh him down, a whisper of pain and weakness that encased his body. He stood at the tall mirror, the one that leaned against his bookshelf and stared. He was only half dressed, his black, no-nonsense trousers sitting low on his waist without the belt and his shirt unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the patchwork of lines that cut through his skin.
As he traced a particularly dense cluster over his hip, a scowl worming it's way onto his face, the door creaked open and slammed shut, making Techno freeze. There were two options as to who it could be: it could be (likely was) Phil.
Phil, who shared his pain, who would tell him it didn't matter, that his scars were proof of his victories and would clap him on the arm, maybe even sling his arm around his shoulders and pull him down so he could ruffle his hair like the dad he always seemed to act. Or, it could be (probably wasn’t) Ranboo.
Ranboo, who had never felt the sting of war or experienced the true pain of a respawn, which Techno would liken to being sewed back together by an extremely unskilled seamster. Ranboo would have no idea what to do and would most definitely make his bad day worse. As the ladder creaked, he held his breath. There wasn't any time to move or cover anything up as he saw in the reflection two contrasting eyes peer over the edge of the trapdoor. The eyes blinked at him. He blinked back.
With more effort than strictly necessary, Ranboo made his way the rest of the way up, ducking slightly in the just too short room. Techno still hadn't moved from the mirror, his hand poised above his hip. Ranboo cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and startled when Techno turned on his heel, trying to gain the uphand in the situation, feeling far too exposed.
"What do you want?" He barked, trying not to feel guilty at Ranboo's increasingly nervous expression.
"I was just wondering, well one of my villagers, he sells maps, he's such a scam honestly, I mean 30 emeralds for a map that's just, you know," He trailed off, refusing to meet Techno's eyes, instead focusing on the scars that littered his body.
"What? I know they're there, you don't have to stare,"
Ranboo's gaze shot up, "I'm not staring at them, well not in a bad way, it's just they look so cool."
Techno's eyes widened minutely. No one had ever called them cool. They were not something anyone admired, they were flaws. Yet here was Ranboo, innocent, naïve Ranboo, who thought they were cool. (He knew in the back of his mind that Ranboo was anything but naïve, that he had been through his fair share of trauma, just more of the internal kind, hidden away in the back of his brain.)
While he was thinking Ranboo had inched closer, until he was directly in front of him, his hand outstretched to a large slash across his chest. Techno jerked back, not expecting him to be so close. Ranboo practically retreated, apologies spilling from his lips. He sighed, cutting him off.
"You wanna touch?" Techno asked bluntly. Maybe if he satisfied his curiosity he would learn that scars are definitely not ‘cool’.
Ranboo nodded, still very shy, and slowly made his way forward. Techno involuntarily tensed as his paler hand drifted out towards the object of his curiosities. The one he had seemingly focused on was one Techno was less than fond of. He had earned it fighting some over-confident asshole who had underestimated Techno’s ability to dodge. He hadn’t even realised he had been hit until much later, when he took off his progressively redder layers and saw it, then promptly passed out from blood loss. His stubbornness had been the only reason it had scarred so deep. That, and whatever illegal enchantments the man had had on his sword.
Now Ranboo’s fingers were centimeters away. Gently, as though he was afraid Techno would shatter, he touched the scar. Techno couldn’t help the sharp inhale, the only reason this was happening at all was because he was so touch starved he couldn’t bear to refuse the invitation of contact with another person. Ranboo’s fingers slid across the rough slash then carefully up to a smaller but thicker scar on his neck. That one had actually been the cause of a respawn, an arrow that had landed unexpectedly when he was already low, the tinge of Harming was just an insult to injury. He would have liked to focus on how bad it made him feel, how defeated and weak he was, but man Ranboo’s fingers were so gentle against his very sensitive neck. Ranboo, entirely oblivious to Techno’s growing dilemma, traced the edge of the healed wound with one of his claws. This made him bite his lip, his tail twitching behind him from where he had forgotten to tuck it in. Ranboo’s other hand began to drift up and landed on Techno’s waist, his soft motions only serving to weaken him more. Now, let’s get some things clear. Techno was not an easily wrecked person, no amount of scribbling or scratching or squeezing (or whatever other tickle-related words started with an ‘s’) could get him to break. However, Ranboo had unwittingly stumbled across his biggest weakness. Going light, or gentle, or heaven forbid, with a feather, would cause him to almost immediately succumb to his giggles. He tried to subtly move away, flinching when Ranboo’s claws trailed along his neck. Ranboo noticed this and went to apologise when he stopped, squinting suspiciously at Techno’s warm face.
“Wait, are you blushing?” He asked incredulously, one eyebrow raising when Techno refused eye contact and got even redder.
“M’ just a little t- sensitive, s’all.” He said gruffly, staring resolutely at the wall.
“Sensitive, huh?” Ranboo asked, then quickly curled and uncurled his fingers on Techno’s side. He fully flinched, choking on the giggles that threatened to worm their way up his throat. Had it been any other day, any other scenario, he would have pushed Ranboo away, or even retaliated, but today his touch-starvation (and lee mood) was too strong to do much of anything but lift his hand to cover his mouth and avoid eye contact. Ranboo’s reaction was unlike any other he’d seen. Instead of smirking and becoming merciless like his pseudo-brothers, his eyes lit up as though he had discovered a wonderful treasure and he gently moved both of his hands to the base of his ribs, glancing at his face as he slowly and gently wiggled his claws over the spot. Techno snorted, planting his face onto Ranboo’s shoulder as he gripped his upper arms, trying not to push his hands away. He heard Ranboo huff, then moved his hands inwards, to claw at his belly. Techno squeaked, trying to back up, instead he dragged Ranboo with him until he toppled over, landing on his bed with a thump. Techno stared at Ranboo, who had landed rather gracefully, settling on his thighs, which effectively trapped his lower half. When Ranboo did nothing but stare he glanced at the roof, his face burning red, and grabbed his wrists and placed Ranboo's hands on his ribs then immediately covered his face. Ranboo giggled.
“What is it exactly you want from me here, Techno?” He said in a syrupy sweet voice. Techno groaned deeply.
“Can- can you,” He took in a deep breath, “Can you keep goin’?”
“Sure!” Ranboo said, the smile evident in his voice. He softly scratched at Techno’s ribs, wiggling his fingertips into the spaces in between the bones. Usually it would take much more than this to break him but he wasn’t really putting up a fight, freely allowing the giggles to flow from his mouth.
Ranboo had seemingly gotten bored of his lukewarm giggles, as he trailed his hands back down to Techno’s stomach. He squeaked again, wiggling his upper body as though that would help at all. Ranboo giggled,
“Technotummy!” He said, (rather unnecessarily, might Techno add) causing Techno’s face to burn.
“Shuhuhut uhuhup,”
“Aw, why? Does it tickle more when I tease?” At the word ‘tickle’ Techno’s whole body jolted, attempting to curl inward, then flopping back onto the bed, his squirming increased tenfold. Ranboo laughed, his attack briefly stalled as he cackled.
“Is it worse when I say the word?” He said, sounding all too innocent for it to lack malicious intentions. Techno nodded, his face still hidden by his hands. He only peaked out behind his fingers when he sensed Ranboo get closer. He had fully leaned over, his face right next to Techno’s ear and his shoulder blocking Techno’s view of whatever his fingers were doing, which unnerved him.
“Hey Techno, can I try something?”
“Uh, sure,”
“Cool! Tickletickletickletickl-” As he whispered into Techno’s ear, his fingers begun scratching at the tops of Techno’s hips, making him cackle, cutting Ranboo’s evil words off as his legs kicked wildly. Ranboo let out an evil chuckle.
“Such a big reaction to such a little word. It’s such a lovely word too, very nice to say. Hey! How about you give it a try?”
Techno groaned through his laughter and shook his head, wishing Ranboo would stop talking.
“Tell you what, how about I wreck you until you say it.” He growled, his voice dropping at the end causing shivers to crawl up and down Techno’s spine. He was never going to tease anyone again if this is how it felt. Ranboo didn’t wait for a response as he began to scratch at his hips, shifting his hands until he could pinch up and down the bones. Techno would deny the squeal that left him mouth till the day he died, his hands pressed firmly against his red face.
"Rahahanbohoho, yohouhu’re mehehean!" He cried, half-heartedly trying to get away.
"Hm, maybe." He responded, then nuzzled into Techno's neck, his hair gently tickling the sensitive skin. The action made Techno's laugh go squeaky, his blush spreading to his ears. As much as he was enjoying this, his hips were really bad.
"Chahahange spohohots!"
"What's the magic word?"
"PleleEHEAse!"
He switched to scratching around Techno's navel, making him arch his back into Ranboo's fingers. His laughter was less loud now, the spot being more feather sensitive. Then, as though to compensate for his lack of laughter, Ranboo blew a raspberry on his neck making him shriek.
"You know how to get me to stop, Techno," He said in between raspberries.
"Shuhuhuhut uHUHUHUP." But man did it tickle, Ranboo's fingers crawling up to his lower ribs again, the raspberries on his neck, his teasy whispers. The more he thought about it the more ticklish he seemed to become, his laughter becoming slightly hysterical.
Ranboo lessened his attack, sitting back upright while using two fingers to gently massage circles on to his bottom most ribs. He waited expectantly.
"Tihih- tihic, it's so hard," He whined. Ranboo hummed encouragingly.
"..Tihihickle."
"Well done!" He beamed, "Now as your reward.." He leaned down and blew a large raspberry on Techno's stomach, thankful that they were in the middle of nowhere due to the scream of laughter that escaped him. Ranboo sat back up, seemingly satisfied and shifted till he was sitting next to Techno on the bed.
"So, anyway, my villager has this map and- aH!" Techno cut him off, pushing him onto the bed and pinning him in the same position.
"Didn't think you were getting off with that scot free, did ya?"
