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#i still have a few more things i want to gif as well so . its not even over yet
i-cant-sing · 12 hours
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Time Traveller AU pt 4
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.
Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).
You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.
"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"
You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."
"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.
"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.
He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.
"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.
"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"
His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"
With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"
"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."
"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."
"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.
Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".
If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.
-
As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".
It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.
"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"
"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."
"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"
You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."
He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"
Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?
You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.
Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.
He's adorable.
His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.
"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.
"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.
Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.
Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.
His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.
When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.
"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.
Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.
-
The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.
"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.
From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.
"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.
"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.
He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.
"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.
"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"
He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.
"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"
Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.
His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."
"What do you mean?"
"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."
"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.
"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.
"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.
You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"
His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.
Clearly, you had struck a nerve.
"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"
You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"
His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."
"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.
"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."
"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".
-
The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.
The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.
"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.
It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.
But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.
Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.
-
After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.
"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.
"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"
"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.
Fine. If she's not going to leave then-
"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"
She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."
"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"
"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."
"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"
"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.
"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"
Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.
"Of course I do, princess!"
-
You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.
The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.
You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.
Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.
But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.
"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"
"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.
He blinked at you. "What error?"
You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"
You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.
"Yes, it is. It is additive-"
"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."
You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.
Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"
You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."
"And what might that be?"
"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"
Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."
"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"
"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.
Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.
You raised your brow. "Name your price."
He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"
"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."
You smiled under your veil.
"Wanna test that?"
-
Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.
After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.
The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.
But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.
However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.
And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.
You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-
You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.
Baldwin and a woman... kissing.
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loversmantra · 12 hours
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LOCK YOUR PHONE!
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synopsis. a secret relationship. a fantasy.
content. itoshi sae x cisfem!reader. aged up characters (+20). fluffy but suggestive. implied sexy times. profanity. secret relationship. sending and receiving nudes. sae's kinda possessive in this but there's nothing crazy. lowercase intended.
wc. 1.3k
message from noe. i adore him i fear... listen to billie nossa nova by billie eilish for a better experience. been wanting to write something based on this song for a while and i thought sae fit perfectly! enjoy.
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there’s a warm body in sae’s bed.
his still asleep brain takes a second to make the connection; the softness of you under him is no longer a feeling he’s used to. he puts two and two together, eventually, and wraps his arms tighter around you. awake, but unwilling to let the moment end, he buries his face into your neck.
too late. you stir, push yourself away from him. he can’t bring himself to blame you: it’s hot in the room, hot under the sheets.
there will be no more sleeping for him, but it isn’t too late for you — with that thought in mind he too rolls away, blinking once, twice, context coming back to him as his surroundings do.
the bed is neither his nor yours, though he could have put that together himself — the satin sheets gliding on his skin in such an alien way.
creams and soft pinks blur before his eyes, pale under the early morning’s light. paris. the hotel room he booked for you in a haze, almost feverish in his longing for you.
the downside of keeping a relationship under wraps, he supposes: his noose-tight schedule and the hawk eye of the public force meetings to be few and far in-between, the secret protected like crown jewels. he knows you’re tired of it; he knows because he is, too. it’s exhausting, constantly looking over his shoulder when taking you to his place, or on his way to yours. it’s exhausting, always having to find a different hang out spot, for fear of the media figuring him out. it’s exhausting, waking up and wondering: is today the day the world sinks its teeth into you?
sae’s never cared to keep secrets, at least never willingly — he says things as they are, does things as they need doing, full transparency, if it’s up to him.
it’s exhausting, it is. but that’s just one more thing on the list — and it’s so. damn. worth it. every downside comes with an upside, or else itoshi sae wouldn’t ever bother.
these hidden moments sae shares with you, no one else is privy to them. only he gets to know you like this, love you like this, warm and soft underneath him. no one knows because no one needs to know. just you and him.
no one gets to see you in your entirety: the shine of your eyes when they land on him; the loving curve of your mouth as you smile at him.
everything that belongs to you. for him only.
the face you made when you first entered today’s suite will stick with him for a while, he thinks. the pure delight and adoration shining in your eyes. your lips parting in wonder. all for him. all because of him. your princess room, that’s what you’d called it. a child’s dream, delicate in its simplicity, crushed and torn apart by the cruel world’s sharp, sharp teeth. stitched back together by him.
he knows how it feels, to be ripped to shreds. he’s glad he can do this for you, at the very least.
the world awakens and so does he; slumber slipping through his fingers as he rubs it away from his eyes, tiny sand grains leaving a small sting behind. he slept well. better than usual.
his phone is still on do not disturb. he doesn’t bother checking the time.
sae sits up, covers dropping to his thighs. beside him, you stir again, whine a little. maybe you can feel him leaving, even now in your sleep, feel the shadow of his absence. maybe you’re just bothered by his movements rocking the mattress. either way, you sleep. finding his pants in the mess of the suite bedroom, without the aggressive light of his phone’s flashlight to aid him, proves to be no easy task, but he manages eventually. he slips them on and slips away, closing the bedroom door softly.
it isn’t much brighter in the living space. the lazy sun is barely rising, only the idea of it permeating the gradual brightening of the sky.
phone still clutched in his hand, sae lets himself drop on the abnormally large leather couch, massaging the tender spots you viciously bit into his neck. with just a few swipes, he’s opened his camera roll. time to collect the prize: the surprise you leave for him after every passionate encounter.
the first time you did it, he didn’t even notice until a few days after the fact, when he went browsing through his pictures for a home screen-worthy photo of you.
there it was: a beautifully crafted souvenir of the time spent together. the flash of his phone camera punctuating every shot, barely noticed in the heat of the moment. the red of the set you wore that day.
selfies of you before, and after. your lingerie still intact — and the canvas of your chest painted purple by his loving mouth. not a single video, but at least a dozen pictures: of you, of him, of the two of you together.
a gift from you to him — one that had his blood boiling, had him flushed, aching, yearning all over again.
he sent you his favorite of the bunch — a mirror selfie of you, chest painted purple, a teasing finger pulling your bottom lip down — followed by a question mark. a wordless interrogation.
finally, thought you were never gonna see them, 11:22pm
-is the answer he got.
want more? 11:23pm
and he did. and he got more.
it’s been a while, since then — long enough for it to become a tradition, a little present left in his phone after a secret rendez-vous. so you don’t forget me, you joke.
but how could he?
he’s learned a lot, since that first time. the most important: you’re a fucking tease. lighting, cropping, outfit, pose, it’s an art form to you, down to the time it is for him, when you press send. more often than not, he gets the pictures in the middle of the day, when he can see but can’t do anything.
you’re decent enough to warn him beforehand, at least.
you better lock your phone ;)
and then the raunchiest picture he’s ever seen — you outdo yourself every time — is all over his screen. he’s had many, many close calls. you don’t stop. he never asks you to. he loves the damn pics.
always pictures, never videos — they’re not your thing, he’s learned. not that it matters.
sae would’ve never guessed you’d be such a great soft porn photographer.
the couch’s leather sticks to his skin as he moves, trying to get just a bit more comfortable. he’s about to open his camera roll, ready to unwrap his present, when shuffling near his head startles him out of his reverie.
“why’d you leave?” you murmur, voice still rough with sleep.
you’re completely wrapped in a thin sheet, the only barrier between his hungry eyes and your soft, soft skin. the only glimpse he gets is that of your ankles. a small golden chain rests there, snug. his name is spelled out among the links, hidden. for his eyes only. his chest constricts, almost painfully.
he doesn’t answer; only opens his arms so you can take your rightful place tucked against him. you lay down, covering the both of you with the sheet.
the sun finally peeks from below the horizon, warming your face. it’s peaceful.
“i didn’t want to wake you,” sae decides to say.
you shrug. “more time with you.”
he feels the same — still, your sleep and your comfort take precedence over anything, for him. over anything.
you look so beautiful, like this. waking the sun, blessed by its gentle glow. for his eyes only.
it won’t last. he knows it won’t — secrets never stay secret for long. but for now, simply living like this is enough, more than enough. enjoying the sun. enjoying you.
sae slept well. better than usual. you’re warm on his chest, traces of you warm on his skin. there’s a present waiting for him in his camera roll.
it won’t last — but it won’t hurt to enjoy it while it does.
you fall back asleep quickly, lulled by his steady heartbeat. he follows easily. his dreams are swaddled in creams and soft pinks, and the warmth of the sun on his chest.
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LOVERSMANTRA © 2024, all rights reserved. do not translate, crosspost, or copy. steal my work and i'll steal your kneecaps. bitch.
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dfortrafalgar · 8 hours
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Looooooved ILY! Kudos! It was chair-gripping, tear drenching, rot your teeth fluffy and a bunch of other things in between! Brava! 🥰
If you're still accepting requests (I don't know if you have already been flooded by messages or not) I would like a story about being part of the Kid Pirates but reader is in a really sour mood because it's the anniversary of readers's parents death (you can make up a story if you'd like) and reader disobeys a direct order from him and, to top it off, reader talks back at him in front of the crew, earning the reader a severe punishment (up to you). Eventually Kid finds out why reader's mood is so sour and tries to talk it out except Kid can't be soft and that just makes things more awkward. Could be SFW, could be NSFW, I'm leaving all this up to you. And the ending as well because I only got that far. I hope you like the idea and get excited.
I love your work! ❤️🥰 Thank you for sharing your talent.
HI ANON!!! thank you so much for your request and your super kind words over IMLY, that means so much to me!!!! i know i keep saying this but yall make me smile every single day when i log onto tumblr and see your messages <3
I also really loved writing this request! i really love Kid, but i also wanna kick his ass on the playground if that makes sense, and i think that sentiment came through in my writing ;w; I hope you like it!!! and thank you again!!! (Also, i kept the reason for your parents' death ambiguous, because i know some people (myself included) read fics with their ocs in mind, so you're free to fill in the vagueness with your own personal ideas if you want!)
Feeling Overhaul
Eustass Kid x Fem Reader
The anniversary of your parents' death always leaves you feeling shallow, but your boyfriend's lack of social and situational awareness crops up to make your day even worse.
Warnings: SFW, hurt/comfort, reader being understandably upset, descriptions of an argument with some veeeeery slight verbal abuse, once again hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort. communication is key loves
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Your sour mood had been steadily building over the last few days, but your sorrow reached its peak on the last day of the week, according to the barely legible crew calendar that was based off of when the messenger coos arrived with the weekly paper.  It was a day you despised thinking about, the memories associated with the day leaving your throat tight, an uncomfortable malaise in the pit of your stomach.
All things considered, you thought you were doing a decent job at keeping your emotions in check while performing your usual duties on the Victoria Punk.  The bow of the deck needed a thorough scrubbing, a few spots in the walls of the crow’s nest needed repairs from a recent run in with a smaller, weaker pirate crew, and a few secondary sails needed their holes patched up.  It was a perfect day to distract yourself from your woes.  Drowning your discontent in your work had become quite a valuable skill.
Until you slipped on the soap that lathered the hard wood of the bow and fell flat on your ass.  When trying to stand, your hands gave out under you and you hit the deck once more, one of your crew mates tossing you anxious glances as you struggled to regain your bearings.  Climbing up to the crow’s nest, you were plagued with a sudden wash of grief over the day, so much so that you lost your grip and slipped down the Jacobs ladder, your foot catching on one of the wooden rungs beneath you.  Wire was directly under you, climbing as well to assist with the crow’s nest repairs, and his method of helping you after your slip involved gripping your arm so hard it left a bruise.  You bit back your tears at the pain of your crewmate’s hand around your limb and the humiliation of almost falling 12 feet onto the hard wooden hull, but you once again bit back your shame and finished your arduous climb up.
By the afternoon, word had gotten around the Victoria Punk that your work was lacking, that you were clearly struggling with something, that perhaps you weren’t feeling well.  When it finally got around to Captain Eustass Kid, who doubled as your beloved partner, he was less than pleased.
The last thing he wanted to do was deal with your emotions, and the last thing you wanted to do was deal with his abrasive, apathetic attitude.
“Care to explain why the hell the entire crew has caught you slacking off today?” he demanded, thundering toward you in one of the upper corridors of the ship’s hull.  You were still returning some of the tools you had used to patch up the ship’s sails when he accosted you in the hallway.  It was almost dinner hour, and many of the crew were bustling through the same corridors finishing their afternoon tasks before meal time.
“What?” you snapped back, caught off guard by his threatening question.
“Don’t ‘What’ me.  Why have you been tripping and falling everywhere?  What kind of joke are you trying to play?”  His face was angry, livid even, not granting you even one second to explain your plight.
Your eyebrows furrowed.  “I’m not trying to bumble around the boat like an idiot.  I’m just not feeling well and haven’t been able to focus.”
Kid scoffed.  “Then get over it.”
Perhaps you were being irrational, but at the same time, you had officially had enough of the entire day.  You dropped your supplies on the floor around your feet, heat radiating off of your body in waves.  “What did you just say to me?”
Your captain bent down to be at your level, which was insulting to your current state.  “Get.  Over.  It.”
Anger boiled in your lungs, lighting your heart on fire, blinding the corners of your vision with a fuzzy white light.  You tried to turn your back to him and escape down the corridor, but yelped when Kid grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” he asked.  He really couldn’t control the sound of his voice, regardless of his current emotion, and the volume of his shouts filling the space made your body tense up in fear.  Eyes watching the scene unfold around you widened.
Around the corner behind Kid’s back, Killer darted forward, alerted to the sounds emanating from the narrow passage.  “Kid, chill out!”
“Are you going to care about me any more if I tell you?” you demanded back, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip.  His flesh hand held firm, however, almost burning your skin.  He shrugged Killer’s own hand off of his shoulder forcefully, completely ignoring his friend’s plea to calm himself somewhat.
Kid rolled his eyes.  “It better be damn important if it’s got you almost falling off of the Jacobs ladder.”
You steeled yourself, sucking in an uneasy breath and facing your stubborn partner head on.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death.  I’ve never been able to feel alright when I think about them.”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence that floated between the two of you, the air in the hallway thrumming with a suffocating tension.  Kid’s grip finally relaxed on your wrist, allowing you to yank it away and rub your sore skin.  His red-painted lips finally parted, and all he graced your ear drums with was, “That’s it?”
Your heart dropped.  “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”
“Parents die all the time.  What makes today so different?”  His narrow eyes were back to their scathing glare.
At this point, however, you had had enough.  You were practically shaking with a barely contained rage of your own as you stepped closer to your captain and spat in his face, causing him to stagger backward, giving you enough space to let your emotions bubble outward.  “I don’t have to tell you shit if you’re going to talk to me like that!  In front of the entire crew?!  Just because you’re my captain doesn’t mean you get the excuse to accost me in the hallway and berate me for slipping a few times.”  You frantically dug through your brain for words to add to your outburst, perhaps asking how he had the sheer gall to have such an attitude toward you despite dropping his walls and being so kind toward you on an average day, but all you could muster in response was, “Fuck you, Kid.”
You stepped away from him, narrowly missing another one of his lunges to get you to stay.  His voice was low and intimidating.  “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Then don’t tell me that my day of grieving is stupid!  Fuck!  You!” you spat back, finally turning on your heels and sprinting out of his reach, down the hallway and into the ladder well into the lower deck, desperate to get as far away from your captain as possible.  You knew he was prone to struggling with empathy, and kindness had never been one of his strong suits, but to be talked to in such a way, have your feelings belittled after you had almost severely injured yourself as a consequence of your lacking mental health, hurt more than a stab to the liver.
Kid’s burning gaze followed you as you fled, harshly turning on his own heels to slink to the galley and drown his frustrations in whatever liquor the crew had acquired from the last island.  He bumped Killer’s shoulder, forcing the blonde to the side.  The crew watched as their captain rounded the corner out of sight.
---
You didn’t arrive for the dinner call, your usual seat left unfilled and the plate uneaten.  A few crew mates who hadn’t witnessed the explosive scene from an hour ago asked around for your whereabouts, but the only one who bothered to stand up and search for you was Quincy who quickly ate her meal and abandoned the table.
Kid was pounding back alcohol like no one’s business, leading to many a concerned glance.
“Kid,” Killer muttered.  He rested his masked head in his hand, desperate for context at what he had previously run in on.  “What happened?”
“Nothing,” the red-head grumbled, throwing back another mug of golden beer, some of it dribbling down the side of his mouth.
The few straggling crew members who remained around the large dining table shared worried looks.
“It’s clearly not nothing,” Killer countered.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” snapped Kid.  Even at the age of 23, he was still no better than a bratty little child when things didn’t go his way.
Killer dropped the subject with a sigh, the sound escaping the holes in his mask with a subdued hiss.
Quincy, on the other hand, carefully opened the door to the women’s bunk room where she found you, curled on your side on the mattress that used to belong to you when you first joined the Kid Pirates, your face buried in a pillow and your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“Darling,” she cooed, silently tapping across the floor to sit on the side of the bed, her gentle hand ghosting over your arm.  “What happened?  Why didn’t you come to dinner?”
The sound of her voice unraveled you from your coil, your tear-stained face and puffy red eyes meeting her concerned stare.  “Kid and I had a fight,” was all you said.
“About?”
You rolled onto your back, clutching the pillow that was thoroughly drenched in your salty tears to your abdomen.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death, and when Kid asked me what was wrong, he told me, ‘What makes today so different, parents die all the time.’  Like…?” your voice wavered, “Who says that?  And to his girlfriend nonetheless!”
Quincy made a disappointed tsk sound with her tongue, sympathetically rubbing your arm through the sleeve of your shirt.  “Honey, he’s stupid.  But still, he was wrong to speak to you like that.”
You sniffled, wiping some snot from your face with the arm that wasn’t being caressed by your close friend.  “I know… but it still hurts.  I wish he could just… I don’t know… be nicer to me?”
For what it was worth, both of you knew that Kid wasn’t truly ‘stupid.’  He was strong, strategic, and resilient, but when it came to matters of the heart, his brain dwarfed to the size of a peanut.  It was only a matter of getting the headstrong captain to realize how he had truly hurt you.
“Honey, sleep in here for a few nights to get a proper rest, away from him,” Quincy offered, standing up from her seat on your mattress to approach one of the wardrobes, pulling out a comfortable shirt and baggy pants to relax in.  “Let this blow over for a little while, and then you can try to talk it out with him.  We can help if you need it.”
You sat up yourself, gratefully taking the clothing from her arms, a small smile on your lips.  “Thanks, Quin.”
The curly-haired woman left the bunkhouse to let you change, passing by Killer trudging through the hallway, a towel draped over his scarred arm.  “Hey, have you talked to Kid?”
“He’s drunk off his ass right now,” Killer grumbled, dragging his free hand down his mask in a display of exasperation.  “I couldn’t get him to tell me what happened, but he’s gonna be out of it for the rest of the evening.”
Quincy bit the inside of her cheek as she assessed the first mate’s message.  “I’ll tell you.”
---
It had been about three days since the argument Kid had blasted you with in front of your crew mates, your humiliation and anger toward your captain burning a hole into your lungs.  You couldn’t contain your tears for at least six hours after your initial outburst, the grief of losing your parents in the way you had all those years ago now partnered with the anguish of screaming at Kid… and spitting on his face.  The act was so beneath you, and yet.  Dive and Hip, who had seen the argument first-hand, had helped to assure you that you weren’t in the wrong for what you had said, reassuring your stance that Kid was far too intimidating when all he wanted was a simple answer for your strange behavior.
Heat had come to you with a covered plate containing the dinner you had missed, informing you that Kid still had a very poor system of managing his emotions.  While you understood this first hand, being his partner for the better part of a year, you still didn’t believe that was a proper excuse to diminish your emotions in the way he had.
After those three days of your absence, strategically avoiding him at all hours of the day, Kid was fed up.  He needed to talk.  His bed was too empty without you.
Killer told him it would be a bad idea to call you to his quarters, but he did it anyway.  And when your anxious knocking reverberated through the thick wooden door of his cabin, he was quick to call your name and grant you entry.
You stepped in, shutting the door softly behind you, keeping your head low.  Kid stood from his mattress, clearing the floor in broad steps and trying his best to lay on the charm, wrapping his large arm around you and cooing his best, casual greeting, “Hey, babe, I’ve missed you.”
You shrugged yourself away from him, your eyes downcast.  You looked… hollow.  “Did you want something from me, captain?”
Kid felt a foreign pang deep in his chest.  You hadn’t been referring to him as your boyfriend or partner.  Right now, he was strictly ‘captain,’ and that notion left him feeling far too empty and vulnerable for his liking.
Fuck, he wasn’t good at this in any way.
Your gaze bore scorching holes into his own eyes, silently demanding the apology that you knew you deserved to hear from him.  With a deep sigh, Kid turned around and stomped back to his mattress, dropping his head into his hands.
“I didn’t know your parents died,” he blurted.
You stayed quiet.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”  His voice was a low grumble.
You suppressed a scoff.  “How about, ‘Sorry for yelling at you in front of the crew?’  Or, ‘I’m sorry for saying that your feelings don’t matter.’  Something like that, maybe.”  Your voice, in comparison, was eerily level, your time to be physically upset with the situation having expired two days ago.  Now all you were left with was an uncomfortable feeling of unease, a hole in your heart where Kid usually sat now being emptied and replaced with a barren cavern that desperately wished to be occupied by the man you loved once more.
Because you really did love him.  You knew his lifestyle, his behaviors, his tendencies toward cruelty.  And yet, he remained kind toward you.  He allowed you to open up to him and did the same in turn, and he nestled himself perfectly, albeit clumsily, into your life.  You didn’t want to lose that.
Watching as Kid clearly struggled forming those two little words on his tongue was like watching someone perform self-surgery.  His pride had impeded his sense of empathy for so long that the simple notion of apologizing was such an estranged concept for him.
How stunted.
But you held firm, remaining in front of his closed door as he kept his head in his hand, his thick fingers teasing through his slightly greasy red hair.  After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked his head up.  “I’m sorry.”
There it was.
He continued, sucking in a shaky breath.  “I really didn’t know it was the anniversary of your family’s death.  I wish I asked you about it sooner instead of… that.”
You stayed quiet.
“... Instead of yelling at you like that.  And attacking you for something that was out of your control.”  He kept his voice low, as if he was carefully picking out his words from a small bucket inside his thick skull.
After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, you released the tension in your shoulders with a sigh.  “And I’m sorry for spitting on you.  And for cursing you out.”
“No, you shouldn’t apologize,” Kid stated, finally picking up his head and gazing at you, his eyebrows furrowed.  “I deserved it, really.”  His fingers anxiously rubbed the rough fabric of his pants.  “Killer sat me down and gave me a bit of a beat down.  Physically and verbally.  Because I know I’m not good at this.  I’m not a good person.  And I really fucked up with you.”
You remained firm with your feelings, but you finally approached his bed and sat next to him, leaving a comfortable gap between your bodies that your captain, your partner, didn’t try to close.  He kept his distance from you, silently ensuring that you were allowed, and encouraged, to open up to him when you were the most comfortable.
“I just want to make sure that you actually mean it,” you whispered.  “And that you’re not just saying that without believing it.”
“I mean it,” Kid confirmed, his voice unwavering.  “I really do.”
You gazed at him apprehensively.  “... Promise?”
Silently, Kid held out his pinky toward you.
You looked at his finger, confusion glossing your features.  “What are you doing?”
“Have you never made a pinky promise before?” he asked.
Your mouth threatened to curl into a small smile.  “Can’t say that I have.”
Kid released his hand only so he could take yours, folding your fingers down so only your own pinky stuck out from your fist.  He repeated the motion with his own hand, curling his smallest digit around your own.  “It’s a promise that I mean what I said.  Killer and I used to do this all the time as kids.”
Your composure finally broke as you snorted, your own finger curling around his.  “That’s sweet…”
“The point is that, if I break the promise, you get to break my finger,” he explained.
“Suddenly everything makes sense,” you uttered, your lips finally curling into a grin.  “Don’t give me an excuse to break your finger.”
In response to your lighthearted plea, Kid raised his hand with yours still attached and pulled back down in a handshake gesture.  “Never.”
Your finger stayed curled around his as you gazed at your hand.  “I’m still kind of upset with you.”
Kid’s shoulders stiffened.  “I get why.”  After you stayed silent for a few extra moments, he finally asked, “What can I do to make it up to you?”
Your eyes bore into his once more, his gaze remaining steady as well.  “You can start by not jumping to conclusions… or being accusatory without any context.”  You sighed.  “I’m not telling you to change your entire personality, Kid, because I know who you are.  And I fell in love with the normal, regular You.  But I just ask for a little bit of kindness.”
Kid released your pinky in order to lace his entire hand with yours.  “I’ll give you more than a little.”
“Or I can break your pinky?” you asked once more, another small smile breaking out on your face.
Your partner grinned.  “I’ll throw myself overboard if you ask.”
You finally closed the gap between your bodies, tentatively laying your head on his shoulder.  “No… I wouldn’t want to lose you like that.”
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sollucets · 3 months
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the ye baiyi effect
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beaulesbian · 5 months
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Shanks always said that if the path to what you want seems too easy, then you're on the wrong path.
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soaps-mohawk · 30 days
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 15: Bonnie
Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7456 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst
A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 
You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 
“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 
You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 
You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 
Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 
Even he can’t protect you from this. 
You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 
John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 
You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 
You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 
Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 
You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 
You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 
You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 
John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 
You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 
“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 
Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 
“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 
You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 
“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 
You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 
You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 
John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 
You might never get to know. 
It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 
Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 
“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 
He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 
“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 
“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 
You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 
“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 
You can only imagine how that went. 
Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 
“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 
“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 
“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 
He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 
“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 
“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 
You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 
He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 
He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 
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“You're tired.” 
You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 
You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”
“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 
Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 
You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 
“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.
Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”
“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”
Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 
“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 
“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”
Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”
He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”
“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”
“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”
You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 
John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 
Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 
Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 
He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 
“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 
He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 
“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 
A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 
“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 
You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 
“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 
You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 
“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 
You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 
You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 
Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 
“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 
You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 
He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 
He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.
His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 
“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 
He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 
“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 
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It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 
You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 
All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 
He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 
The thought makes you want to cry. 
“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 
You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 
“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 
You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 
“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 
The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 
You need to rectify this, and fast. 
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You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 
Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 
“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”
You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 
He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 
“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 
You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.
“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 
Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 
Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 
“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 
You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 
Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 
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“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 
“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 
“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 
“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 
He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 
Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 
“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 
“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 
Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 
“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 
You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 
Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 
“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 
“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 
The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 
He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 
“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.
“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”
“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  
“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”
Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 
“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”
You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”
“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 
“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.
He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 
Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 
Well, you suppose he is. 
He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 
It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 
Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 
“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.
You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 
“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 
He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 
You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 
“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 
You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 
He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 
He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 
You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 
“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 
You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 
“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 
You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 
“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 
You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 
“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 
Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 
He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 
“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 
“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 
The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 
“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 
He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 
His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 
You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 
“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.
“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 
“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 
“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 
Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 
“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 
Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 
“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 
You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 
You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 
“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 
“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 
You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 
Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 
Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 
“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 
You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 
“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 
You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 
“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 
He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 
You’re in for a long night. 
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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Hey idk if you take requests for monster lovers, but I liked the werewolf one so I would like to request one if possible! Can you write something where reader stumbles upon an abandoned castle and she meets the owner of the castle who is a vampire? Normally he wouldn’t tolerate trespassers, but he’s been very lonely these past decades and the new person is rather cute…
Omg this reminds me of Dracula and Lisa! I loved them in Castlevania.
Pairing: Male!Vampire x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, meet scary, first meeting, crushes, falling in love, domestic fluff, touch starved, kissing, neck kissing, drinking blood
A/N: Here's the thing about vampire bites in my headcanon, they actually feel really good when they're from a vampire you're in love with.
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Touch-starved!Vampire who closes his doors to everyone, turning them away, scaring them or if they're really stubborn he will drain them of their blood entirely for bothering him too much. He doesn't want anything to do with... well anyone really. He's happy being on his own, for the most part. Or so he thought.
Touch-starved!Vampire who sees you lost near his castle and at first he wants to shoo you away like everyone else. He sends his bats to do the job. But... you're not scared of them. You think they're cute. Oh. Now that he looks at you again, you're pretty cute too.
Touch-starved!Vampire who doesn't know how you'll react to seeing his fangs so he keeps his hand over his mouth until you move it away for him. Are you actually curious about them? Most people scream bloody murder when they see them. Then again they more then likely to end up dead moments after so it's justified.
Touch-starved!Vampire who can't believe how warm your hands are on his cheeks. He's felt humans before but he never let them get close quite like this. Is he cold for you? If you follow him to the castle he can stand next to the fireplace if that would make you more comfortable.
Touch-starved!Vampire who doesn't understand what the hell is happening to him right now. He's rarely felt like this even around his own species, let alone a human woman. Very curious. He'll have to keep you around more, or at least have you visit more often until he figures it out.
Touch-starved!Vampire who can smell when you're approaching his castle and waits for you at the door, offering you his hand to welcome you in. This becomes something of a routine for you two, so much so that your friends ask about the handsome new man who walks you home every night. Very late at night, or just before the sun rises.
Touch-starved!Vampire who loves it when you eat in front if him. He doesn't eat human food, or rather he doesn't need to, but if he knows that you're the one who made it then he will try it. He will even let you use his very underutilized kitchen and cook with you just to be close to you.
Touch-starved!Vampire who panics when you cut your finger. He will leave if you want him too, he will get you first aid supplies too. He can't control the fact that his fangs elongate when he smells how good you are but its in his nature, so hopefully you don't hold it against him.
Touch-starved!Vampire who stumbles over his feet when you offer him your neck. Understand that for him this will be a big step in your relationship, a new dynamic. Are you sure you want to take this step with him? Because if not he would still love to have you around, your company is always welcome in his castle.
Touch-starved!Vampire who moans when he gets to taste your blood for the first time. He feed a few days ago but it wasn't like this. Is this... yes, he knows now, he's in love with you and from the noise you made when his fangs pierced your skin and how you're pressing against him and sighing contently he would say you feel the same.
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ KISS IT BETTER — GETO SUGURU.
contents. post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru has nightmares :(, chest kissies for sugu <3, reader lays on top of him, like very cheesy banter my bad
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suguru gets nightmares—it’s expected, but it’s not easy. it breaks your heart—very painfully so—every time he jolts up with frantic eyes and labored breaths.
he tries to shake you off and pretend he’s fine the first few times, but by the time it’s happened enough, he resigns himself to letting you handle things, just like you always do.
it’s easier when you handle things—he’s starting to realize that more.
“another one?” you mumble through a yawn, sitting up and hugging him from behind as your cheek rests on his bare back. he grunts, hunched over with his head in his hands.
“‘s okay,” he says quietly, “you can go back to sleep.”
“we both know i’m not doing that, suguru,” you hum, palm rubbing slow circles into his abs. he sighs, melting into your touch eventually as he leans against you, head falling back to lay on your shoulder.
“sorry,” he whispers, “i didn’t wanna wake you.”
“i wish you would,” you hum, tracing his nose delicately as you kiss the side of his head, “i wish you’d let me help, baby.”
“you already help enough,” he mutters—almost bitterly, you note, “i don’t need to make you lose sleep over it.”
“you’d do the same for me,” you say gently, “wouldn’t you?”
“of course,” he says instantly.
sometimes, suguru is too kind for the world. it tramples him and leaves him curled on the floor under its cruelty. sometimes, he gives too much and forgets to take, to ask, and it’s starting to show. it’s starting to pile up and become too much and you think, just for once, someone should give to suguru too—because he deserves it.
“it’s a two way street, y’know,” you smile against his temple, “wake me up next time. please?”
“you really wanna see me at my lowest, huh?” he tries to crack a joke and dodge the question—but you know suguru, and you know what he needs. sometimes before he knows himself, even.
“everyone needs someone in their lowest, baby,” you mumble, “it helps more than you think.”
it’s silent for a bit. it’s like that more often than not with suguru these days—he’s silent, prefers the quiet and tender moments alone with you when you happen to catch them. he doesn’t have the energy to talk, and you don’t make him, and he’s grateful. he’s grateful when your fingers weave into his hair and your lips find his cheek, when you’re content with laying your head on his chest and just being there as he thinks.
you look down as he lays against you, his back to your chest and his body slotted between your legs, resting in your hold. it’s silent—he doesn’t always want to talk, and you don’t make him.
and he’s grateful.
finally, he breaks the silence first. “i felt it all over again,” he mumbles, “the…on my…”
his hand instinctively covers his chest, and you know what he means—he doesn’t have to finish, doesn’t have to say anything else before you press a tender kiss to his head. suguru doesn’t have scars on his chest. shoko’s reverse cursed technique heals well enough that the scars on his chest don’t remain even a little. it’s almost like it never happened—no proof of the x shaped slashes from blades to his chest.
but suguru can still feel his skin slicing sometimes—in fact, he thinks he can never forget it.
“hmm,” you think out loud, “well, there’s only one remedy for this i’m afraid.”
he looks up and raises a brow, staring at you before you crawl from under him, letting him plop down against the pillows as your body turns to hover over his.
“what are you—”
“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to his chest, starting from his collarbone before continuing in a diagonal line down the rest of his sternum. he can’t help but let his lips slowly widen into a smile with each one, letting out a soft chuckle when you tickle the skin slightly. “i read somewhere that kisses are really good for healing,” you murmur.
“ah yes, your doctorate from webmd is really coming in handy,” he teases, grinning when your lips press against his collarbone once more, on the other side this time as you peck along his chest in another diagonal line. it’s silly, a little pointless even—the wounds have long healed and you can’t even be sure you’re kissing where the scars would be, but suguru seems to brighten considerably with every touch of your lips.
it’s enough.
“well, my handsome patient,” you say cheekily, “did that help?”
“oh yes,” he nods dramatically, “i feel better than ever. thank god i have a gorgeous doctor like you.”
“hmm, i am rather gorgeous,” you brighten, giggling as he pulls you down by the wrist to kiss you softly. his hands are on your cheeks, cupping your face delicately as you hum against his mouth. “better?” you ask pulling away, pecking the corner of his mouth.
he nods, wrapping two strong arms around you as you lay over his body, grinning up at you.
“better,” he assures, “they should let you open up your own clinic. you’d put the hospitals out of business.”
“but suguru,” you gasp, “then i would have to kiss random men—surely you can’t let that happen!”
“you’re right,” he plays along, eyes widening in faux concern, “i can’t. i guess i’ll have to be your only patient.”
you smile at him—it’s radiant enough to clear the dark clouds of his shoulders, gentle enough that he feels the hardened parts of him start to go soft just a little. sometimes, suguru gets nightmares—they’re not easy, but you make them feel a lot less impossible.
it’s enough.
“what a waste of my higher education,” you sigh, “but fine. you’ll be the only one i kiss better.”
“i’m so grateful,” he snorts, pulling the blanket over your bodies as he holds you close.
sleep comes easier that night—and every night after.
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i’ve decided to give this lil healing sugu series a tag so it’s: #operation: heal suguru! and you can click the tag below on this post to read the earlier drabbles !!
anyway unseen footage from this moment is that i actually sucked his tiddies as i kissed his chest. bc lord knows he just needed his tiddies sucked and he’d have been 100% happier and fine
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months
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Life Lessons || CL16
Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed
WC: 2.9k
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Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.
He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.
Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.
“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”
“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”
“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”
Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”
“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”
Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.
Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.
He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.
“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”
You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.
“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”
“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”
“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.
“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”
“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”
Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.
He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.
His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.
“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.
“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.
You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”
“A-anatomy?” he stammered.
You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”
His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”
His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.
“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”
“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.
“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”
“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.
“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”
He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”
“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”
“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”
The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.
“You’re a good student,” you praised.
“I have a good teacher.”
You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”
His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”
He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”
“I thought that was a myth.”
“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”
He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.
“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”
Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.
“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.
“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.
You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”
You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”
Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”
Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.
“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.
“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”
This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.
“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”
Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.
“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.
His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.
“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”
He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”
Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.
“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”
“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.
You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”
He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.
“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”
He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.
Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”
You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.
“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”
He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.
“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”
He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”
“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”
He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”
“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader
Simon Riley: Girl Dad
From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video
“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 
She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.
"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.
It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.
You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 
He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 
“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”
You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  
When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.
She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.
It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.
“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 
It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.
His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”
Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”
Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  
“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”
Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 
His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.
Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 
“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  
Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 
“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.
Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”
The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.
The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 
“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.
She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.
He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 
Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.
“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”
Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.
He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?
As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 
“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.
“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”
Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”
“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 
“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”
The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.
Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”
The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.
Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 
“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”
Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.
“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”
“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”
Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 
“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”
“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.
Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.
Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 
“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”
She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 
“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 
He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”
Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 
“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”
Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”
And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.
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colleendoran · 3 months
Text
Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update
AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.
The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.
Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.
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You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.
Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.
 Go me!  
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This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.
Not complainin', just sayin'.
Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because  right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt. 
And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.
Not complainin' just sayin'.
This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back. 
But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!
Then my computer crawled toward the grave.
My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.
There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.
At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.
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Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.
That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.
Welcome to my gigabyte hell.
The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.
All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.
But I was not daunted! Nosirree!
I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!
And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.
At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.
I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.
Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.
That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.
Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.
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I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.
Then there was news.
I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news. 
It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.
Then I got the official bad news.
Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.
Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work. 
I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.
"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.
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So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.
Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.
Eff this guy.
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Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.
I didn't even know there was such a thing. 
There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.
I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful  eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.
What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.
Hi Ho.
Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.
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I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work. 
Just cut it out and get me back to work.
And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.
Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.
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The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way. 
Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.
I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry. 
To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.
I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.
I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.
I have never been more grateful in my life.
Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.
Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.
Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.
Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.
But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.
Then I finally got my surgery.
Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.
My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."
Which was super not fun news.
Eff this guy.
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The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.
The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.
By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.
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I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.
But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.
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All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was  hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.
After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.
Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.
Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.
But at least my main hospital is super swank.
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The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.
So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.
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Nearly tore off my damn nostril.
Eff this guy.
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Anyway, it was a bad year.
Here's what went right.
I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings,  enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.
Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.
No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.
So, yay.
My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.
I got to ring the bell.
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I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.
I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.
After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.
Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.
I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.
It's a miracle.
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Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.
The new computer works great.
The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.
I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.
I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.
More time for real life.
While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.
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OK. Rough year. 
Not complainin', just sayin'.
Back to work on The Book.
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And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks. 
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gojos-whatnow · 3 months
Text
『Mornin', Dollface』⇝♡
⭒Synopsis: How does your sweet boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, wake you up after living with you for over a year?
⭒Warnings: NSFW, fluffy smut, sleepy sex, oral (f receiving), afab!reader, LOTS of praise, princess treatment, somnophilia, reader is an eepy goober
⭒Setting: Gojo's silly lil apartment away from Juju tech
⭒Notes: I guess this could technically be considered a request from a friend, but all she gave me was "MORNING SEX" so.....
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How does your boyfriend wake you up most mornings? With his tongue inside you, of course.
He was always up before you. He was a teacher, after all, and you...
Well, in his words, you were "living the good life."
He had talked you into quiting your job when the two of you had moved in together. He claimed that princesses shouldn't have to work. Especially when he could just shoulder the bill for anything you asked for. And so, despite occasionally feeling like a freeloader, you went along with it.
So, with nothing to do but laze around or go out for a stroll, you slept in most mornings. Sort of. There was the fact that every morning, despite being unemployed, you were awoken at the sunrise, even before, by Satoru's head between your thighs.
This morning was no different. You awoke to your own involuntary whimper, and hot pleasure in your core. You could feel your hand fumbling against your thigh, trying to grab for something. Satoru's hair, no doubt, which you'd expect to be muscle memory by now.
A chuckle reverberated against your clit where his lips were fastened around it. His hand found yours before it could find his head, and he pulled away with his mouth, instead pressing his thumb to your nub as he spoke to you.
"You awake, pretty girl?" His seductive, but clearly still tired, voice called up to you. God, did the sound of it make you clench on nothing.
You pried your eyes open with a struggle. You were lucid enough to give him a hum, signifying you were somewhat conscious.
"Hi, baby," he murmured, pressing a few kisses to your thigh. His mouth soon found its way back to your clit, licking and sucking it just a bit harder now.
"Satoru," you whined out, still sounding more asleep than awake. Nonetheless, a dopey grin spread across his face, and he had to pull away again.
"How's my sweet girl? Did she sleep well?" He kissed across your other thigh now. "Ready to get back to it, I bet. Don't worry, once I'm done making you feel good, you can pass right back out."
You squeezed his hand, an implied way of saying 'I love you'. Satoru, being such a physically affectionate person, had started coming up with physical ways of saying such things. When words didn't seem like enough, he'd tug you close, making sure the angle was right so you could feel his heartbeat, and squeeze you in his arms. He wished he could have you with him all the time, hanging off him. He'd wear you like a backpack if it wasn't so dehumanizing, and probably frowned upon in public.
Your exhausted, barely-open eyes looked down into your boyfriend's gorgeous ones, finding they were already on you. With his free hand, he waved playfully at you, even as he continued lapping at your clit, making you whimper.
Soon, that free hand replaced his lips again, one finger tracing around your hole as his thumb worked your clit. He leaned up from between your thighs and scattered kisses across your face, nuzzling against your cheek.
"You awake yet, baby? Need me to make you feel even better?" At that, one of his long fingers slipped inside you. Easily, considering how long he'd been doing this before you woke up.
"Sato..." you murmured.
"I'm right here, Sweetheart." He gave your hand a kiss before he let go of it and slipped his arm under your waist, pulling you close to him. "Take your time waking up." He pressed his lips to your neck, leaving wet kisses against the skin.
Once he slipped another finger into you, you doubted he actually wanted you to take your time. It was only a few moments after that that you were more awake than not, arms wrapped around Satoru as you moaned against the top of his head.
Your groggy moans were so sexy to him, and the way your body was twitching, your hips rolling against his fingers involuntarily - he doubted you even knew it was happening. He could feel your slick starting to drip down his hand, and he had to tilt his head up, lips close to your ear.
"Want me to make you cum now, pretty girl? Or you want me inside you?"
"I-inside," you stuttered out, almost sounding desperate.
"That's my girl. So good to me."
You took a moment's break as he pulled his fingers out of you and tugged his boxers down. He gave himself a few strokes before lining up his tip with your entrance. He gave you a soft smile as he spoke. "Ready?"
"Yeah," you let out, letting your eyes wonder down his body. He was absolutely gorgeous, from head to toe, and all yours every morning. How? You didn't have a damn clue.
His length pushed in embarrassingly easy, and he leaned down, laying against your chest. His hand found one of yours and held it gently, while his other arm snaked back under you and held you close.
"How's that feel? Doesn't hurt, right?"
"No, feels good," you responded, feeling the walls of your cunt gently clench around him. He groaned softly against your skin, then leaned up and smiled at you, kissing your cheek a few times.
"Ready for me to move?"
"Mhm."
At your confirmation, he carefully drug his hips back and forth, going slow to start. You let out a quiet mewl at the friction, gripping onto Satoru with weak, tired hands. He let out gruff hums against your neck, knowing how much you loved it when you could hear him. Your cunt was still clamping around him lovingly, and he could feel himself already getting close. Telling from your moans, though, you had to be too.
"Getting close, Sweetheart?"
"Mhm!" You gasped out.
"Me too."
From there, it only took a few more, quicker, thrusts to send you both over the edge. You grabbed aimlessly against Satoru's back, just looking for somewhere to hang on (and accidentally leave a few scratches over the ones from most other mornings), and stuffed your face into his shoulder to muffle yourself. Meanwhile, he did the opposite, making sure you heard every groan he let out as he painted your insides.
As you both caught your breath, you felt your boyfriend relax, going limp and stuffing his face into the nearest part of you, which happened to be your chest. He kept his arms wrapped around you, using them to squeeze you close you him and kiss across your skin.
The two of you laid like that for a few moments, with your nails scratching at Satoru's scalp in a way that made his eyes want to roll. After only 5 minutes, though, you were asleep again. Your boyfriend looked at you, a smile of adoration on his face before he leaned up to kiss your forehead.
"Sweet dreams, Love of my life."
He got up and got ready to go to Jujutsu Tech, cleaning the both of you up in the process. He shot your sleeping figure one last glance before exiting the room, wishing he could sleep in with you.
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justporo · 4 months
Text
Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!
I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!
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It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.
But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.
Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.
Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!
But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.
And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.
“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.
“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.
But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”
You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.
“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.
Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.
“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”
“You think I'm funny, my love.”
“It also isn't as full of itself.”
A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.
“My heart, you hurt me.”
“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”
The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”
“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”
A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.
“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.
But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.
After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-
“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”
You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.
There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.
“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”
“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”
“Ah, so you agree with that too.”
You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.
Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.
“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.
Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.
As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.
With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.
And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.
When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.
With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.
“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.
Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.
Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06
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zombiefiilm · 4 months
Text
Fell in Love
spencer reid x gn!reader
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summary: you hadn't expected your friend spencer to be home from his most recent case yet, let alone passed out on your couch
warnings: confessions, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n
word count: 1.5k
The moment the key hit the lock of your front door, you practically felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You had been working all day and there was nothing you wanted more than to change into your pyjamas and watch tv for the rest of the night.
Once inside your apartment, you shut the door, instantly dropping your bag to the floor and your keys onto the table. Your shoes were kicked off and your jacket was strewn across a random chair in a matter of seconds and you were ready to run into your bedroom.
But, as you passed by the living room, you caught a glimpse of someone sleeping on your couch, shoes and coat still on.
Really, you should have been a bit more startled by the sight of someone in your home, considering you lived alone, but you were all too familiar with Spencer's habit of dropping by unannounced.
You stopped in your tracks, walking around to the front of the couch and called his name.
"Spencer" you were met with an annoyed groan as he flipped onto his other side.
"Spencer" you called again, louder, shoving his shoulder slightly. No response.
"Dr. Spencer Reid" you practically yelled right into his ear and you watched him jump this time, turning to face you again.
"I gave you a key for emergencies" you scolded, watching as he sat up and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"I'm sorry" he sounded overly sincere "I didn't want to go home."
Then you realised that this wasn't just his regular habit of dropping in whenever he was bored, he needed comfort. You knew all to well the toll his job took on him, with everything that’s happened to him you were surprised he was able to hold up as well as he did.
“Oh Spencer” you half-whispered, sitting down on the couch right beside him, shoulder practically pressed against his. “Do you wanna talk about it?”.
“Not really, I just need to get my mind off everything” he sat up a bit straighter, facing you now.
You nodded in response.
“Is that new?” his gaze was suddenly fixated on your wrist as he reached down to your new watch.
“It is” you told him, lifting up your arm to show off the item adorned with a silver band.
“Did you get it in a pawn shop?” he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at distracting himself now, taking interest in random things like he always did.
“How did you know?” you laughed slightly, bringing your arm back down to your side.
“It’s Cartier” he explained “I know you wouldn’t be able to afford a new one, they range from four thousand to hundreds of thousands of dollars”.
“Wow” you feigned offence.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just know you wouldn’t spend that kind of money, even when you treat yourself” he almost panickingly explained himself but you still felt a little proud at him knowing things about you. You hated spending a lot of money on yourself and you wanted to treat yourself, hence the new item in your collection.
“Did you know that Cartier was the first healer to use platinum in jewellery making? And they popularised the wristwatch in 1904, it’s really quite interesting”
“I didn’t, Reid” you joked. “Do you want some food? I got groceries yesterday so I could make you anything you want”.
“I’m okay” he sighed slightly “I’m just tired”
“You can sleep in my bed, no reason you should be hurting your back on the couch"
"No its okay, I don't want to put you out. I'm fine out here, really."
"I'm not going planning on going to bed for a while, at least go in there and get some rest, okay?"
He simply nodded his head and got up to go to your bedroom, calling out a goodnight as he approached the door.
You spent a few hours lounging about, mindlessly watching Friends reruns to procrastinate anything that actually needed to be done. Eventually though, the tiredness caught up to you and you decided to camp out on the couch for the night.
You cracked open your bedroom door and the small amount of light that flooded in from the hall presented Spencer completely out of it in your bed, his white shirt half unbuttoned and his trousers twisted around him while the rest of his clothes were piled on the floor beside him.
You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a spare pillow and blanket from your wardrobe, preparing to set yourself up on the couch for the night.
As you went to leave the room once again, you heard him sleepily call your name.
"Yeah?" you turned around to him again, seeing him adjust himself slightly.
“Do you want the your bed back?” He began to sit up, the rustling sound of the duvet filling the air.
“You can stay there, don’t worry about it” there was a silence then, you could tell he was about to say something, but he was struggling to get it to slip past his lips.
"Could you stay with me, please" he looked away bashfully "just for a bit”. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was giving you a puppy-dog look, eyes wide and lip practically quivering.
“Of course” you dumped everything that was in your hands onto the end of the bed and crawled up beside Spencer.
Without another word, you pressed yourself up right against him, grabbing his hand with yours and smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand. Just the few moments of silence with you sitting there had done Spencer some good, he had already felt himself calming down, and some of his recent anxieties melting away.
The quiet didn’t last long though before Spencer was saying your name again. “Can I tell you something?”
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark so you could see all of his emotions bleeding through his expressions. You nodded your head, humming slightly to urge him on.
“I really appreciate you, a lot” he hesitated slightly, searching for the words to use next.
“I appreciate you too Spence” you requited.
“No, I’m thankful for everything you do. You have always been there when I need you, you always know exactly what to say to me, you care about me. And I truly hope you can say the same about me”
“Of course I can”
“I need you in my life more than you could ever know” he continued “you’re the most important person to me in the whole world, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You looked at him, almost flabbergasted, not knowing what to say that would truly encapsulate how much you cared about him, how happy you were that he appreciated you.
“I like you” he paused “I love you, so much” his words were powerful, they rung in the air as they travelled towards your ears.
“Love?” you repeated, questioning his use of the word. You were no stranger to platonic love but his previous confessions had you questioning the intention of his last sentence.
“I love you, I want to be able to call you mine. I want to come home to you every day, to spend every minute I can with you, to have a future where you’re the centre of all my plans.”
You were practically stumped, the emotions you were feeling rendering your mouth useless.
“If you don’t feel the same way-“ he suddenly became incredibly panicked, spitting out as many words as he could to explain himself before you could cut him off.
“Spencer” you took a deep breathe “I love you too” it was a much shorter confession than his, but you didn’t need to say anything more to him, the confirmation was all he needed.
In the time it took you to blink, your faces were centimetres apart. And then his lips were on yours.
Your body felt like it lit up on that moment, the feeling of his lips on yours waking the butterflies in your stomach. You wasted no time tangling your fingers into his hair and lightly tugging at the roots as his hands slid around your waist, softly massaging your flesh.
It was gentle, his tongue softly slipping into your mouth as you let him do what he wanted, let him take the control.
The kiss was short though, as sleep had began to take over both of you. You mutually pulled away, silently agreeing to lie down, cuddling into one another.
With one more peck on the lips, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.
There was plenty of time to talk it out, to figure out everything between each other, but for now all you needed was the feeling of one another pressed together and the feeling of mutual admiration.
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fallingdownhell · 6 months
Note
i love your recent posts but can i request hurt/comfort genshin impact xiao, wanderer, cyno where like they get into an argument about the reader being weak or something like that
although they didn't mean it, but after a few days after the argument, they see reader like training hard for them because of the fight.
<3
Mhh, always. You know I love me a good dose of angst! And I'm sorry, but I only included two of the requested characters, because otherwise this would haven gotten way too out of hand and too much to read. Hope you're okay with that.
Characters Included: Xiao; Wanderer
Content: gender neutral reader; angst; comfort; hurt/comfort; established relationship; arguments between them and reader; shouting and cursing at reader in wanderer's scenario; Kunikuzushi/Kuni is being used for Wanderer
Word count: 2,2k words
Enjoy the read!
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Xiao
You have to understand him. He's just looking out for you!
There is a clear, natural difference in strength between you and him!
He's an adeptus after all, and you're just a human! Sure, you possess a vision and you know perfectly well how to utilize it to your advantage in battle, but he's still your boyfriend! Let him be worried about you!
Honestly, he really just had your best interest and saftey in mind when he approached you one day, offering to train with you and possibly make you stronger, since he noticed your form to be a bit lacking when he watched you train.
The problem was, he told you exactly what he was thinking, no filter whatsoever. Which in turn caused you to get a bit defensive with him. That didn't sit right with Xiao, because in his eyes, he was only trying to help you.
This then resulted in a huge argument, where neither of you wanted to back down against the other.
"(Name), for the love of the Archons. Can't you see I'm only trying to help you here?"
"By berating me and telling me all the things I'm doing wrong? Without offering any advise at all? Yeah, great help.", you scoff as you turn your back to your boyfriend, trying to resume your exercise in peace. You were hoping that he would get the hint, to leave you alone. But he didn't.
"I'm really only looking out for you. You lack basic knowledge with the sword and you lack stamina as well. You're moving around too much, you make so many unnecassary movements. The hold you have on your weapon is too loose. Anyone could easily knock it out of your hand. Also-!"
"Okay! I got it!", you suddenly burst out as Xiao keeps on listing the things you're doing wrong in his eyes. It not only frustrated you, but it also made you feel so inferior.. to him and basically everyone else. You know that everyone starts out at some point. Everyone has to learn from the beginning. So why is he being so mean to you? Shouldn't he be more supporting of you as your boyfriend?
"I get it. You've made your point very clear."
You speak again, while Xiao just stares at you, mouth still hanging open. He didn't expect for you to raise your voice like this. You were usually so soft spoken.
You stared into each others eyes for a few more seconds, before you let out a sigh and placed your sword back into its sheat.
"I'm going home.", you announce as you go to grab your stuff. You collect everything and put it in your back, leaving without taking another look at him.
Suddenly, Xiao got the feeling that he made a huge mistake. Not only by "helping" you out with your training, but also as he let you go like this without having a talk with you, but something told him to let you be for the time being.
.....
Well... did he regret letting you just go like that. It has been almost a week since he last saw you, because you refused to call his name like you usually did on a daily basis.
And he was afraid of seeking you out himself, since he feared to only further sour your mood with an unannounced visit from his side. But he wanted to see you again so badly...
When the one week mark was reached without hearing anything from you, Xiao has had enough. He needed to make sure that you were okay. He was certain you would have called his name if you were in mortal danger, despite the argument at hand, but it's better to be safe than sorry. He needed to know you were still alive..
So, he teleported to your home, waiting for a few seconds in front of the door, gathering courage, before knocking on the door. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. He knocked again, but still nothing.
Xiao was about to leave again, scolding himself in his head, because of course you wouldn't open, you obviously didn't want to see him right now, when he heard noises coming from a bit further away.
Deciding to investigate, he followed the noises. And what he saw did shock him a bit..
He saw you, standing in a circle of training dummys, practicing different moves and tactics. He could tell that your hold on the blade has gotten better over the week you have been apart. In fact, everything he had critiqued about your skills seems to have improved...
Have you been training relentlessly this entire time??
This made him feel even more bad about this entire argument. He wanted to help you, not make you overexert yourself like this, just to prove something to him..
Deciding that it was finally time to talk, he approached you. You heard the footsteps coming your direction and turned towards them. Surprised to see Xiao there, you stopped in the middle of your session, facing him.
It was quiet for a few seconds as he arrived in front of you, and when you couldn't take it anymore, you decided to speak up again.
"What? Here to berate me even more?" It sounded way more sarcastic and hurtful than you had intended it to, and you saw Xiao flinch the slightest bit at your words, but you didn't back down from them.
"No..", Xiao answered weakly.
"I'm here to apologize." His words left you surprised, not expecting this at all.
"I didn't realize how much my words were hurting you. That was never my intention, (Name). I.. I'm just worried about you. There is a clear difference in skill, after all, but I shouldn't have been like this to you. I sincerely apologize for the way I treated you."
You have been with Xiao long enough to know two things. First, he was being completely honest with you. You could tell by the tone in his voice and the way he tried to look into your eyes, while also trying to avoid them at the same time, feeling embarrassed about being this vulnerable with someone.
Second, you knew just how hard it was for him to be honest and vulnerable with you. Saying this must have caused so much for him to do, yet he did it anyway.. for you.
For a second, you stood there and stared at him, before sighing and walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his body in a warm, comfortable hug. He did not hesitate for a second before doing the same, having missed this feeling dearly for the past week.
"I don't mind you helping me or giving me advise.. but maybe don't be so brash and insulting about it. Okay?"
He nodded, promising you to be more careful with his words from now on.
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Wanderer
You sighed with relief as the Ruin guard in front of you collapsed and shattered into its parts, the cut on your side hurting a bit when you breathed, but it wasn't bleeding too bad, so the wound must not be too bad, either.
You were usually not that easy to surprise, but for some reason, you overlooked that particular ancient machine, resulting in it getting a hit on you before it was taken down.
Though, you were not the one responsible for taking it down. The actual reason was flying in from behind it, your boyfriend, Kuni. And while you were smiling at him, wanting to thank him for his help, he had a scowl on your face as he landed in front of you.
"What the hell were you thinking, Idiot? You would be dead now if it weren't for me being here!", he shouted as soon as he landed, not letting you get a word in.
You were taken aback by his harsh words and tone, staring at him, which only made him even more agitated.
"The hell? You don't even have an excuse! How can you be so fucking careless? I know you're weak but I wouldn't have thought of you being this stupid as well!"
You heard each and every single one of his words, and they all stung right in your chest. You were aware of the difference in power between you two, but that didn't mean you were incompetent with your polearm. You've trained long and hard to get to the point where you are now, and you were proud of yourself for it.
When you looked into his eyes again, you could see a bit of shock behind them, like he was surprised himself that the words actually left his lips.
You waited a few seconds, to see if he would apologize to you or take them back, but nothing came. Kuni's pride hindered him from doing the right thing..
"I see. If that's what you think of me, I won't be in your way again."
The words sounded cold when they left your lips, and Kunikuzushi flinched ever so slightly when hearing them, but you didn't react to it. Instead, you turned and walked away from him without acknowledging his presence any longer.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Where are you going?", he shouted after you, but no response. Then, he chased after you, but when he noticed that you were still ignoring him, he gave up on it, figuring that it would be best to leave you alone for the time being.
Surely, you would come crawling back to him soon enough... right?
....
....
Two weeks.
The incident has happened two weeks ago. And for those two weeks, he did not hear or see anything of you, whatsoever.
He was so sure that you wouldn't even survive a week without him before coming back and apologizing, but it seemed like he was wrong this time.
And he hated to admit this, even to himself, but.. he missed you. Missed your stupid, cheerful smile, your laugh and the way you always made his day better, just by spending time with him.
After about a week and a half, he began to think, that maybe, this time, he was actually the one in the wrong. That maybe, he took it too far with his words this time around.
Maybe.. he should be the one to apologize to you.
And yet, it took him a few more days to overcome his stupidly high pride and actually follow through with his thoughts.
Nahida, who knew all about the situation from Kuni himself, smiled and nodded proudly as the puppet went to leave the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
He first searched for you at your home, but you couldn't be found there. Then, he went on a stroll through the city, hoping to run into you along the way, but that too, proofed to be without success.
His last hope was the adventurers guild, and that someone hopefully has seen you there.
And luck was on his side this time, as some other members told him about how you have constantly been taking commission after commission for the past few days.
Feeling his worries for you rise again, he went to the locations given to him, hoping to find you there.
About an hour or so later, he spotted you at the location of the third commission you took, standing next to a defeated ruin drake while facing another one head on.
He had half a mind to rush over and take care of it for you, but something in him told him to let you handle it yourself. So he watched with bated breath as you easily took care of the machine, letting it fall to the ground while you remained completely unharmed.
That's when he really realized what his words might have caused for you. You are by no means a sheltered human, you're capable of defending yourself, and very well so.
As you were checking the defeated drakes for useful stuff, he came out of his 'hiding spot', walking directly to you. You noticed him approaching but chose to ignore him still. In fact, you've noticed his presence in the middle of the fight, but decided not to call him out and see what he would do.
When he arrived, he just stood next to you in silence for a while, watching you. But when you still wouldn't acknowledge him, he decided to speak up.
"(Name)... I... I'm sorry..", he mumbled quietly. He felt embarrassed, not used to acting like the bigger person, but he was in the wrong here, so he had to do this, no matter what.
The words out of Kuni's mouth caught you by surprise, your head swirling around to look at him, finally.
Kunikuzushi didn't know what else to say right now, so he stayed silent, hoping you would understand how difficult this was for him right now.
"..I'm not weak.", you answered him quietly as well, fully facing him now, but your posture and tone seemed a bit more open and calmer now.
"..I know."
He may not be the best with words, but somehow, you always understood what he wanted to say, anyways. It has always been this way between you. It was one of the many things he loved so much about you.
And that's how it was this time, too. He quietly thanked the Gods when he pulled you into his arms again, holding you for the first time in what had felt like an eternity.
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atrwriting · 5 months
Text
kisses and other sweet things (part 2) -- billy the kid x cowgirl!reader
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hey party people :) posting this when I should be studying HAHA
send good vibes for my civil procedure final tomorrow many thx <3
I watched the scene where billy and ollinger fight and this very much inspired it lol enjoy
as always, warnings: smuuuut, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), dom!billy, brat!reader, violence, blood, pussy slapping, overstimulation
thank you all for reading!!! I love you all so much!!!!
ANYWAYS... part two:
neither one of you told… but it didn’t take long for the others to sniff the air and have an inkling for how the wind changed overnight.
in all honesty, it was billy’s fault.
the man found every way to remain close enough to be considered by your side since that night.
he would sit by you at dinner. he wouldn’t touch another woman. he always looked at you when he told a joke. he always looked at you when someone else said something funny. that joyful twinkle in his eye was reserved for you, and only you, and everyone had picked up on it. not to mention — he’d not only check his horse — but yours as well.
everyone knew what was up. everyone. absolutely everyone.
billy made it abundantly clear without even uttering a word that you two had participated in something similar to carnal relationship.
…but, in all honesty, you didn’t mind.
you would’ve preferred to talk about it, sure. what prevented you from bringing that up to billy was that you didn’t have to pry respect and loyalty out of him — the man just did it, and because he wanted to. it was… okay, fuck it — you have to admit it to yourself: it was nice. billy the kid showing you slightly more than common decency and general enjoyment of your company was nice. you were worried about bringing it up to him at the idea of losing the potential staple of someone having your back, and them trusting you enough to have theirs.
you were fucked. totally fucked. absolutely fucked. no way around it.
the man was a mysterious fuck, as well — looked at you like you were an angel, but has fucked you like even the devil would avert its eyes from the debauchery. respected in the streets, and disrespected in the sheets — every woman’s dreams.
the one unfortunate aspect was… the others. you can usually ignore everyone, and anything — only way to get through life. however, the severity of the teasing had begun to worry you.
it first began with a curt up-down look of when billy always found his way to dismount from his horse and walk next to you. it wasn’t like he was guarding you, no… neither was he following you like a puppy. it was like there was a new form of respect there — and given the fact that most of the men still looked at you like you were just a silly girl, they noticed it. for a split second, in your stupid mind, you thought it would maybe make the rest of the men treat you better — but how could you ever think that? you rolled with these guys because their very existence was about disrespect and taking for themselves.
billy had made you bot outsiders — more than you already were.
like… maybe you weren’t together… but you had each other. you weren’t sure if you could count on him yet — but his actions were… well, they confused you. and you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad confusion yet.
there had been very few moments of privacy, so you were not able to catch him alone and speak about what happened. at first, you figured you both would go about your lives as usual… not wanting to expect too much from a man who appeared to live as he wanted when he wanted to. however… you didn’t expect that how he wanted to live his life was, well — apparently by your side.
unfortunately, thinking things over was not a freedom given to you without obstacles. many of them began giving you and him looks — and then the teasing started. instead of being known by name or a nickname, the men could be heard calling you “billy’s girl” in hushed tones.
you feared the day they finally bucked up the jewels and called you his whore. you knew it was coming — you didn't want it to happen, but you knew it was. you couldn't afford to be naive.
if anyone else called you his girl — you might’ve blushed. you almost relished in it. however, when men who barely respected women called you that and you both worked with them — you knew they didn’t mean it fondly. it annoyed you, especially when you hadn’t been able to even talk about it with billy.
were you his girl? were you a fling? would billy fuck another woman if given the chance? and honestly, did he tell anyone?
questions ran through your head with very few conclusions approaching. you thought their teasing would be the worst of the worst — until it wasn’t.
no… the worst was when billy had fought one of them.
a few days after the teasing had begun to get bad, you had finally stopped at another boarding house and bar with the other boys. you figured you would retire early and let them have their fun — but that would not be the case.
when you eventually had drank your share of booze and went upstairs when the girls came around, that was when ollinger had opened his big, fat mouth.
“when billy’s done, can i get a turn?”
you froze in your tracks.
this was your worst fear — losing their respect. you had worked tirelessly to earn it, and there had been times where you felt like you never did. you may never have had their actually respect, the kind they give to men — but they never did something like that. and when all of them laughed, and began to hoot and holler — that’s when you knew where you stood with them.
fucking billy.
but that wouldn't stop you, no. they brought you on because you were a pretty thing with claws — and that's what they were going to get.
“known you longer than i’ve known him. can’t say you’ve ever peaked my interest,” you spat as you turned around to face him from a few feet away. “don’t know if you’re man enough.”
he stood then, eyes wild. he held the neck of a bottle in one hand and immediately took a swig, appearing to ignite the fire in his eyes and the aggression in his steps toward you.
“you want me to show you a real man, sweetheart?”
you took a step forward, afraid to back down. you narrowed your eyes at him. “you want me to show you how i’m a better shot than you, sweetheart?”
he stepped closer to you then. you didn’t budge — you weren’t sure if that was out of pride or fear. when he stepped closer, the stench of liquor leaked from his mouth like smoke from a wildfire. a smirk was plastered on his face, and staying still and silent was the only thing you could do to hold your ground.
“you know what that makes you, right?” he spat in a low tone. “makes you billy’s whore.”
you couldn't help it — your face twisted with shame and anger. your vision was going almost as red as ollinger's, and you weren't sure if both of you would survive the next action that came from you. before you could process the impact of his words, let alone respond — billy spoke up.
“shut your mouth, ollinger.”
your eyes flickered over to where billy stood with his hands balled at his sides.
ollinger took another swig of his bottle before he turned and stalked over to billy. billy didn’t flinch, but simply watched a drunk ollinger try to keep his cool. the entire group watched — and waited.
“you don’t tell me what to do, boy,” ollinger sneered, clutching his bottle. “you ain’t special. i ain’t never seen anything special about you.”
billy reached for his gun, but did not pull it out. billy’s hands were shaky, and that’s when you realized it — he was drunk too. “alright then — let’s fight it out.”
“i ain’t fightin’ you with a gun.” ollinger brushed off billy’s comment with another careless swig of his drink. “you ain’t that important.”
“then let’s fight with our fuckin’ fists.” billy discarded his gun and the belt it was usually kept in. “like men.”
ollinger’s eyes showed a peak of interest.
your eyes… well, they showed terror.
ollinger walked towards billy with a dip of his chin that suggested he would enjoy the aspect of hurting billy more than winning anything over billy. ollinger already thought he was better than billy, he didn’t need to win anything — but that look in his eye? when predator was threatened by another?
without his gun, you were worried for billy. frankly, billy should’ve shown it — or at least you thought he would. ollinger had at least a decade of years, strength, and experience on billy. not to mention — ollinger has also had a vendetta against billy since they met.
ollinger immediately threw of his belt. “i’ll beat your ass any day.”
as ollinger drained the rest of the bottle, you could hear the hollering of the other men around you as they drew closer. ollinger threw the bottle to the ground and stalked towards billy.
as billy was about to start pulling off his vest, you stepped up to intervene.
you’d at least like to talk to him before he died.
however, jesse stepped in front of you. “can’t get in the way of two men fighting, doll.”
you raised your eyebrow at jesse. “ill cut your cock off.”
jesse only laughed, but kept his arm outstretched in front of you.
with years of experience… you thought ollinger would fight fair — but he caught billy with a jab before billy could get his vest off. you lunged for the pair, but jesse and some of the others held you back.
you didn’t know what to do. sure, you believed in billy — but the man had a tendency of getting his shit rocked in hand to hand combat.
ollinger let out an excited battle cry — and your hate sank into your stomach. billy struggled to get up as you fought against jesse.
“come on, billy!” ollinger baited. “come on, billy!”
you watched the look in billy’s eyes then — assessing the threat. billy immediately dodged a punch over his head, came back up, and started slamming ollinger’s head against a wooden post.
the excitement of the men around you slightly died as they realized that billy didn’t fight like other men — he had no interest in punching, or relishing in getting a lick in. he went straight for a possible kill shot, grunting as he hoped to subdue ollinger.
there would be no stopping either of them. you relented against jesse’s arm, staring at the two men. your mouth parted in horror, and your stomach dropped at the sight.
billy eventually threw him over the picnic table like he was nothing more than a sack of flour. his grunts were predatory — powerful and fucking masculine. fighting was fun for ollinger — but this? this? for billy? this was necessity. he didn’t care about asserting dominance — he cared about being left the fuck alone. he needed to make sure ollinger never fucked about him again. dominance was worth nothing if you didn't have survival.
billy, still intoxicated, stumbled over to where he had thrown ollinger — but ollinger was too quick. he grabbed billy by the boot and threw him back. billy landed on his ass, and you watched in fear as ollinger stomped toward him. his eyes were wild and his mouth was curled into a bloody snarl. you wanted to get involved, you knew you should’ve — but what could you do? this was what happened when you rolled with men like this — they had to fight this out themselves, or they would become everyone’s problem. you hated it — every fucking minute of it — because this problem started with ollinger’s disrespect for you and how you could cut his jewels off before he could even get a kiss in. poor billy…
but not poor billy.
no, not poor billy — because when ollinger stood over billy, billy kicked him so far backwards that ollinger then stumbled and fell on his ass.
billy was up in an instant, stumbling, and smacked the absolute shit out of ollinger with an open palm. ollinger flew backwards for a second time that night, and suddenly the men grew more excited watching the fight. all you could do was trail behind them — worried.
billy walked up to the porch and stood above ollinger, but ollinger’s wounded pride had gotten the better of him. he took billy by the cloth of his shoulders, and slammed him repeatedly against the wooden wall of the outside of the house. jesse and his friends were cheering on billy, but all you could hear was his pained grunts. and then, just then — the moonlight had caught billy’s face just right. his eyes were screwed shut as the pain registered from the blow — and blood was pouring down from his nose and into his mouth. billy fell against ollinger in exhaustion, and that was when pat garett started cheering louder and louder.
“please,” you whispered, helpless.
in an instant, billy had gotten his elbows up and clutched the shoulders of ollinger’s shirt. with (basically) a battle cry, he willed himself to push ollinger off of him, in front of him, and then in through the doors of where all of the other men were with their women.
you followed jesse, pat, and the others.
billy and ollinger immediately crashed into the floor of the house with grunts and screams. the men once getting blown or ridden were now cheering on the fight, and the women above them or at their feet were stunned and confused — worried about getting hit.
this time — billy had gotten up before ollinger. ollinger may have had years of experience on billy, but years were years: ollinger was old, and exhausted. billy stood up and began laying overhead punch after overhead punch onto ollinger.
“get up, ollinger!” he yelled, eyes black. “get the fuck up!”
immediately, billy pulled back. like you had thought — he didn’t need the kill shot, but he needed the threat subdued. billy was breathing heavy, he was bleeding… you were so worried for him. jesse pushed past you and grabbed billy’s arm, raising it above his head.
“boys, we got a winner!” jesse cheered before everyone followed in suit.
billy fell back against the nearest bed and sat down. it just so happened that was a bed that your oldest friend was sharing with a woman. stunned, the woman grabbed billy by the shoulders to steady him. she wiped some of the blood off of his face with his shirt. you were thankful — but then her smile turned big when she realized how handsome he was.
your blood boiled.
you watched at his big eyes darted up to her face as he tried to regain his composure. he took one look at her face, your friend, and got up.
he spat once on the floor, cleaning his mouth of any excess blood. over his shoulder, he threw, “no hard feelings, ollinger.”
and started straight towards you.
you stood there, in the back behind everyone, frozen in place. billy was in front of you in as little as five strides. thankfully she had wiped his face — because he only tasted vaguely like blood when he grabbed you by the face and pressed your lips to his.
he cupped your face with one hand, but it held you in place like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. with his finger stroking your cheek, you kissed him with every bit of fear, frustration, and excitement you had in you. your lips folded together like you two were the only ones in the room — and like everyone in the room wasn’t cheering for the clear winner of the fight, and the kiss with the girl the fight was started over.
billy had stood up for you. the one man who had actually ever done that.
against your lips, he whispered. “i know you could handle himself yourself — but you shouldn’t have had to.”
you giggled against his lips, yours stretching into a wide grin. he pecked your lips a couple of times, unable to get enough of being the only one to be able to do this. he replied, “never had much taste for these girls — had a different one in mind.”
“you gonna take her somewhere private, cowboy, or what?” you asked.
billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief before he bent low, and hauled you over his shoulder. your feet kicked in front of him as you struggled to hold your hat in place and keep your balance. you were shouting at him, but nothing could be heard over your giggles or everyone else’s whistling. with one firm arm circling your hips, keeping your ass in place with his massive hand, he kicked open the doors and brought you upstairs.
“billy, if you don’t put me down —“ you laughed, breathlessly. threats were futile. “i swear —“
“shhh, sweetheart — you know i’ll take care of you,” he responded.
billy found an empty bedroom and immediately went to work. he sat you down on a low dresser and immediately started going for your riding pants and shirt. you kicked off your boots and shimmied out of the fabric as billy stood over you.
with one hand pressed to your cheek, he kissed you once more. you pulled away to smile at him. you spoke, “thank you… for what you did.”
“ollinger needs to know when to shut his mouth,” he spoke, engulfing you in a kiss once more. “should’ve made a move if he was jealous. now i’m the only one who gets to have my face between these pretty thighs.”
he pulled you by the hips so you were almost hanging off the edge, your feet flat against the wood of the dresser. you were breathless as your head began to swim. billy got down on his knees, parted your thighs, and dove for your slit.
your head immediately hit the wall. you wanted to arch your back — keen towards him — but you had limited mobility. you were at the mercy of the man before you who was lapping at your clit like nothing else existed. you should've been worried about his injuries, the dried blood on your face... but you couldn't. you didn't. billy was satisfying every bit of desperation you had felt since that night and you were too strung out to fight him. strained moans left your lips as your hips began to buck into his face.
“billy, stop…” you whined. “i want you inside me…”
he didn’t listen. the man kept his tongue drawing all kinds of messy, wet circles around your sensitive bud that pulled every dirty whine out of you. in an instant, billy pushed two fingers into you and immediately started pumping them. you lost your breath — and your ability to speak coherent sentences as well. he was tapping against your upper wall, pining for that sweet spot that was gonna make you sing for him.
“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried. one of your hands found his tangled mess of curls and fisted your fingers through them. billy’s tongue was thick, hot, and the roof of it was rough as he shook his head against your center, increasing the friction. your hips and legs were spasming uncontrollably as a warm feeling spread from your abdomen. “jesus christ — you’re so mean.”
the air seemed to shift in that moment, but you were so lost you couldn’t comprehend. billy wrapped his cracked lips around your clit, and pulled at it and sucked. hard.
your eyes screwed shut as a cry vibrated through your chest and into your throat. it hurt, god it hurt, but in the most bittersweet way you could imagine. it was like pain and comfort all in one, delivered by the same hand, driving you into submission. every blood vessel was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing for billy’s movements and you couldn’t regain control — and you weren't sure you wanted to.
he suddenly pulled away. “you think i’m mean, sweetheart?”
his blue eyes pierced into yours when he picked up his head to face you. his eyes were raised in a manner that suggested he expected a response, but you were still in your daze. your eyes were glossy, your lips were puffy and parted, hoping he'd answer his question for you.
billy didn’t like that. with his free hand, he slapped your clit.
your body jolted, surprised at the sensation. it made your breath catch in your throat as all of your senses were on red alert... but it only made your pussy throb harder.
“billy…” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes. “you’re teasing me.”
his dry thumb began to rub circles around your sensitive clit, and the mixture of your slick and the rough skin of his dumb drew you into his control. in that moment — in that raw, vulnerable moment — you couldn’t think of anything else besides billy, and getting him to make you cum.
“mean, that it, sweetheart?” another slap to your clit. “you want me to show you mean?”
even in your haze, you were a brat at heart. with a smirk, yet shaking from how sensitive you were, you smirked at him. “don’t think you can.”
in an instant, he was on his feet. you struggled to ring out your tense muscles and stand with him, but billy wasn’t having it. he flipped you around so you were on your stomach on the dresser, legs hanging over the edge. billy pulled your hips up for you to stand on your toes, forcing your ass into the perfect position for him.
“slut for only me, huh?” he asked, kneading the skin of your ass in his hands. he slapped it once, twice, thrice — ripping little squeals from your petal pink lips. his thumb found its way into the outer folds of your pussy, barely entering. “won’t throw even a pity glance at anyone down there — but something about me just gets you this wet.”
he pushed his thumb into your sopping wet hole, and you squealed. you held onto the dresser to give yourself leverage to push yourself into his hand, but one of his hands held down your lower back.
“more, please…” you whispered.
“that smirk made me think you don’t deserve it,” he spat, still playing with your pretty pussy.
“billy —!” you screamed with exasperation. “please!”
with his thumb still in your pussy, billy leant down and wrapped an arm around your throat. with your neck in the crook of his elbow, he pulled your back to arch up towards him. billy placed his lips right by your ear, and spoke, “is that who’s got you this worked up, baby? huh? me? be sweet, and maybe i’ll kiss those pretty tears away.”
you hadn’t even noticed it — but he was right. your cheeks were stained with tear streaks that made them damp. with broken breaths, you spoke, “please — i promise.”
he began to pump his thumb into your pussy, while his other fingers worked light circles around your clit. “promise what?”
“that i’m — that i —“ you couldn’t get the words out. you were a struggling mess — clinging to the dresser with the little strength in your hands you could muster, and completely at the mercy of billy’s hold. his breath was hot against your face as heat rose throughout your body. “i —“
“fucked so dumb you can't use your words?”
“fuck —“ you cried, already almost succumbing to the feather light touches on your clit. “you’re the only one, billy — only one — please, just let me cum.”
“yeah?” he grunted. “gonna take what i give you?”
“anything, billy —“ you gasped. “please — just want you.”
billy kept his promise. he pressed his lips against your cheek, pushing your head slightly to the side. every muscle in your body was taut with trying to remain balanced and stay perked for every one of billy’s moments. his fingers in your clit began working faster and harder, and your body began to shake. you were so sensitive to everything around you — his kisses, his chokehold, his heat on your back, his fingers buried deep in your folds. you bucked his hips back into his hand, and everything exploded.
without billy’s hold, you would’ve collapse into the dresser. your knuckles were white as they bent, causing your nails to rip at the wood of the dresser. you back was arched completely towards the ceiling as you tried to remain in position. billy was whispering nasty, nasty, nasty things in your ear that coupled with your delicious moans.
“that’s it, baby, just keep cumming for me,” he rasped, groaning in your ear. “can be such a brat — but she’s got the prettiest pussy. i know what makes my girl tick.“
“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you cried, falling against billy’s shoulder. the world melted before you. your eyes were drifting open and closed. the haze had consumed your brain, and each of billy’s movements made a whine well up behind your closed lips. “fuck, billy, i can’t —“
his fingers didn’t stop, and you felt like you were about to collapse. “oh, sweetheart, too much for you?”
you were practically fucking sobbing at this point. “n-no-no—“
“greedy, baby,” he said, licking at your cheek. “thought you were gonna take everything i gave you?”
“your cock, billy — please —“
“naw, sweetheart,” he said stroking your cheek. “think you’re in over your pretty little head. can’t take anymore.”
“no, no, billy — i want your cock so bad —“ your whines were music to his fucking ears.
“yeah, baby?” he asked, shimmying off his pants. “you want my cock? think you can handle it?”
“i can, i can, i can —“ you chanted, your head swimming. you felt billy’s hands spread your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. his cock slipped in through your folds until he bottomed out, pressing his hips firmly against your back side.
with billy’s mouth still so close to your ear, he rasped, “sucked my cock into you, doll. couldn’t help yourself, huh?”
you arched your backside into his hips, eagerly hoping to meet every thrust. billy had once hand holding your hips down, and the other was clutching the soft, supple skin of your throat. you could hear every labored breath of his, mixing with your own. this position was unlike any other: from the back was usually reserved for women of the night, but holding you? in such an intimate manner? with his lips dragging across the skin of your cheek? waiting for how you reacted to his touch?
you were a mess. mud in his hands — dirty and messy and everywhere —needing him to keep you together.
“nothin’ feels better than you inside me, billy,” you whined.
“i know, darlin’, i’ll always take care of you,” he groaned, lips pulling at your ear lobe which sent your nerve endings on fire. “don’t know how you do it t’me. y’let me, and i'll always be back in between these pretty thighs.”
the groan you let out was hoarse in the most feminine way. your hair was splayed out all around you, cascading down your back. with every thrust, your nipples, taut, hit the cool wood of the dresser and mirrored the smallest bit of pain you needed to leave reality. your skin was flushed and tainted with every touch and caress from billy he gave you. when he saw the blush on your cheeks, and the tears staining your long lashes — he could’ve come right then.
his girl. his pure, fucked out, sweet and scary girl. all his. a force to be reckoned with, but the prettiest sight to see. and you were all his.
however, he wasn’t through with you yet.
no. he was so mean, and he knew it — but he didn't care.
not when he had finally had you after so long.
it was right then that billy promised himself he would never neglect you for so long ever again. he knew that no one had ever touched, fucked, or loved you like he did. he knew that you never let anyone even get as close to him as you let him that night, and he would never forget that — nor would he be so careless as being ungrateful.
his girl — flushed, pink, and finally being able to know what it means to be so vulnerable with a man that she would never know an orgasm like this. he would set the fires of hell on anyone around you if it meant that you could feel this free, so wild, so yourself for the rest of your life. he knew what he had to do next.
he pulled out, and flipped you over so you were back against the wall and sitting up. he immediately stepped in between you and pushed your thighs and legs up so your calves would rest on his shoulders.
“need to feel how deep that pussy can squeeze me,” he grunted, pressing his cock into your folds.
you moaned at his words and movements, practically sand at this point. your body was numb and on fire and in water all at the same time — leaving you completely out of control. all you needed, no — craved was billy sending you over the edge. over the edge, please, over, over, over, need it billy, a pathetic mess you were, but neither of you would change it for the world.
billy began pistoning his hips into yours and you immediately leaned forward to grab onto his bulging biceps. you felt every hot breath hit your face with every thrust. the room was so hot, stuffy, humid, and yet you didn’t want it to end. all you could feel was your tight, soft walls squeezing the living hell out of billy and his beautiful cock.
“‘m gonna cum, billy,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.
“yeah, ‘cause you’re a good girl f’me, huh?” he bit. “always takin’ everything i give her. takes my cock so well.”
“only for you, baby,” you cried again, throwing your head back against the wall.
“oh — i don’t think so, sweetheart.” his thumb immediately went to your clit, drawing rough circles on the overstimulated rosebud. "i get to see those pretty eyes when you cum."
your body immediately went taut, sitting up. the slight shake of your limbs was apparent to both of you, and you let out little gasps because of how far you were driven from reality. his cock was pounding against that one sweet spot that made your knuckles white and your teeth bury themselves into the plump of your bottom lip.
“can’t,” you cried, tears beginning to flow once more. "oh, baby — i can't, i can't..."
“i know this pussy can handle it,” he bit. “what happened to being sweet, sugar? huh? goin’ back on your promise?”
his words were the last thing you heard before your body fell mercy to uncontrollable ecstasy. your mind, numb, was thrown back and forth between the throws of passion and the pull and push of billy’s hands bruising the flesh of your hips. you pressed your forehead to billy’s, sobbing through your gritted teeth. tears were pushing through your shut, wrinkled eyelids, and all you could hear was billy begging — coaxing that last orgasm out of you.
billy had won the fight, and he had earned every fucking orgasm he had given you that night. he needed it, he earned it, and he would not be denied it. testosterone was mixing with his blood, making his veins pound, and all he could think about how the scary and sweet girl he won a fight for was weak and needy for his touch.
desperate for a comfort that she hd only allowed him to give her.
he detached your foreheads so your faces were almost pressed together, sides of your noses touching. his lips were brushing against yours — but they weren't kissing you, no. instead, they were reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.
“sweetest fuckin’ girl i know.”
"luckiest guy in this whole thing — you get that? all fuckin' jealous of me."
“knows exactly what to do to fuckin’ please me.”
“pussy just won’t stop cumming, sugar? bet you hate me so much, huh?”
with one final pull of pleasure in your muscles, you screamed his name with a sob. a fucking sob. you were drenched in sweat, your own slick, and tears. fucking tears. they were everywhere — down your cheeks, your neck, and all over billy. your hands found the hair at the back of his neck, and you weaved your fingers through the tendrils for stability.
that was when billy’s orgasm hit him: when you were so weak you could do nothing but cling to him and cry for his touch.
the throaty groan that rumbled through his chest was unlike anything you ever heard. it was animalistic — a primal need was satisfied and everything in his body was singing at the release. he clutched your body to his and your skin warmed at the embrace. he delivered three final pumps into your puffy, pink pussy, and you couldn’t do anything besides take it. you didn't want to do anything else besides take it. the sound of his moans sent every hair on your body standing at attention and your fingers were stroking his soft skin for comfort.
“that’s it, baby,” you whispered, cockdrunk. “love when you're the only one that gets to use me like this.”
at that, he knew you'd be the death of him. he accepted it, and he was okay with it. — happy, even.
you were peppering kisses all over the side of his face as he was coming down from his high. a sleepy haze settled over his eyes, but instead he captured your lips into one final embrace.
“this is the second time this evening i’ve had my shit rocked tonight, darlin’, all because of you,” he whispered. “no dull moment with you, huh?”
“never, baby,” you whispered, letting your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned against him.
“good thing you’re mine,” he quipped, pressing a long and hard kiss to your cheek. “never could share a sweet thing like you.”
----
im buzzing after that
love u guys hehe
-L oxoxox
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